Chapter Twenty-Five
Kennedy
I’ve abandoned my timer method for the day, I can’t focus right now, let alone for ninety minutes straight.
I know I don’t need to be anxious, but the knot in my chest hasn’t eased up since I woke up this morning.
I have about an hour until I can leave work and then I have to go straight to Will’s game.
I’ll have to change in the car in order to make it before face off and I’m stressed. Miranda’s saving my seat for me but I don’t want to miss it. I haven’t been to one of Will’s games as his girlfriend before and I’m nervous.
I can’t sit still with all my nervous energy so I pull up my check list for today and double check that I’ve completed everything. I have. Two hours ago.
I seriously debate sneaking out thirty minutes early, but my rule follower anxiety forces me to stay exactly where I am: in my intern cubicle doing nothing.
I nearly sprint to my car when my work day is done, speeding and cursing traffic the entire drive worried about being late.
But when I park, I sit there for several minutes contemplating bailing.
I’m so much less worried about seeing my ex than I am about having to walk in there knowing everyone’s seen me naked.
I’ve somehow gotten away with basically not going anywhere with people who might’ve seen my leaked pictures.
I know I’ve been to SixtyForty, but that feels different.
I wasn’t hanging out with the whole hockey team, I was hanging out at Will’s table with his friends who’re loosely my friends too.
Guys who, even though they’ve most likely seen those pictures, are not friends with my ex boyfriend and have never ever brought it up.
I know they didn’t go home and jack off to them, then categorize me as a slut in their minds as a way to rationalize their own actions.
I have two missed texts from Will and one from Miranda. The knot in my chest has never been tighter–I don’t even need to open the messages to know what they say: when will you be here? How much longer? Where are you?
I do some grounding. Twice. And wait another ten minutes before I whip off my work shirt and put on a jersey with Will’s number and last name written across the back.
I’m mismatched with my work slacks and heels on my bottom half and his jersey on the top, making me feel even more out of place and anxious.
Looking good is and always will be my primary defense mechanism.
After another five minutes I know I can’t put it off anymore. I’m pretty sure the game’s already started. I have to go. Will’s my boyfriend and he’s worth it. I know I’ll regret it if I don’t go in there, more than just because it’ll hurt Will’s feelings.
I was right, the game’s already started.
Fuck. I find my way to Miranda and take the seat she saved for me.
Hoping that Will didn’t notice me not being here earlier.
The rink is warmer than I remember it being, although I’m pretty sure that can be attributed to the dread coursing through my entire body.
Miranda looks like a proper hockey girlfriend.
She’s wearing Liam’s jersey over a Bramwood U hoodie.
The front of the jersey is tucked into her jeans.
She’s wearing white sneakers and a beanie and looks perfect.
There are few things that make me feel more confident in myself than a good outfit.
Why didn’t I pack an outfit this morning?
“Don’t worry, you haven’t missed much,” Miranda says, eyes on the ice, watching Liam. I glance at the scoreboard: 0-0. Will is currently sitting down, but he’s sweaty, I can tell that from here, so he must’ve already been rotated out.
My guts churn even more when he turns his head and zeros in on the spot where Miranda and I are currently sitting. How many times has he looked over here, feeling disappointed I wasn’t here?
He does a double take, turning away before full body facing me, a huge smile on his face.
One of those smiles that makes me nervous and fluttery.
I lift my hand and give him a small shy wave.
He really dramatically blows me a kiss with his gloved hand and I sink down in my seat a little, anxiety churning.
A few girls in the row in front of me turn around, no doubt scoping out who he was blowing a kiss to.
A few seconds later the girls in front of me are laughing and logically, I know they’re not, but it feels like they’re laughing at me. Or maybe at Will for dating me.
I push down the paranoia pricking the back of my neck and focus on the fact that Will’s back on the ice and he’s skating like I’ve never seen before.
He’s fast. So fast. Immediately jumping into the action, slamming into another player so hard both of them end up on their ass.
If this is how he’s been playing every game, I’m not surprised he goes home limping!
He’s rotated out several more times before the first period is over and I start to feel a little less like I have a sign over my head that reads: remember my nudes?
Half way through the second period is when I really start to feel comfortable.
Will’s back on the ice, and my eyes can’t leave him.
It makes sense to me why he’s already drafted, why his dad is so fixated on his pro career, why he doesn’t want to tell anyone about refusing the draft, because he’s amazing.
As he runs down the ice I can see a future where he’s playing in the NHL and successful.
Just then, Will gains possession of the puck and I jump out of my seat.
He’s skating down the ice with a breakaway and I can already tell it's going to go in before he takes his shot on goal. The entire place erupts. I’m exceedingly happy when he doesn’t point his stick at me and instead locks eyes with me and winks.
He is so sexy right now. I don’t think I’ve ever truly appreciated how hot he looks in his full gear, skating on the ice. Because, damn. I’m suddenly imagining all sorts of fantasies that involve him wearing his full gear and me on my knees in front of him.
Will’s rotated out and Liam takes the ice. He too is playing his heart out, earning a minor penalty I honestly disagree with. North Dakota has a few players who’re playing especially dirty. They have an aggressive defense and seem to be overly riled up about the goal Will made.
One of their guys gets right in Liam’s face, screaming and I honestly think they’re about to fight before the ref has to physically intervene, sending them both to the penalty box again.
I’m grateful for a small break and reset at the end of the second period. North Dakota starts the third period with a dominating and aggressive play style, crowding the goal and taking as many shots as possible. Taking the lead with two goals in under ten minutes.
Carter and Will are on the ice now, and that anxiety starts churning in my stomach again. I don't want Carter to antagonize Will. But he doesn’t. They’re playing like they can read each other's minds, it's kind of wild.
Carter passes the puck to Will who then immediately lines up a shot on goal. I’m out of my seat again, jumping up and down, cheering as loud as I can for him.
And then he’s in the air. His entire body spinning like a saucer, leg in the air at an unnatural angle before he hits the ice face first and slides into the wall.
He doesn’t immediately get up. He’s just laying there unmoving, left leg twisted in a way that looks wrong.
Carter punches the player that illegally body checked Will from behind and before I can even process what’s happening, there is a literal brawl between every single player currently on the ice.
I’m almost certain the player who hit him kneed him from behind.
He came at him from the left too–he’s still face down on the ice not moving.
The game pauses while medics rush the ice to assess Will while refs physically pull players off each other.
I might throw up. They’re bringing out a stretcher.
Miranda grabs my hand and squeezes it as we both stand here, paralyzed, unable to do anything other than watch him be loaded onto a yellow stretcher and pushed out.
I don’t realize I’m crying until I keep having to blink away fat tears so I can see where the hell I’m going as I run toward the locker rooms. I know he’s back there being evaluated.
No one will fucking talk to me! I nearly elbow whoever just put their hand on my shoulder before I realize it's Miranda. “Okay, so my dad said they’re taking him to the ER via ambulance. The team doctor says it looks like it might be a true knee dislocation but can’t confirm without some imaging.
My parents are going to meet us there, but they’re home, obviously, so it’ll be two hours before they’re here. We should go now, so we can be there.”
I nod, wiping at both my cheeks and my nose, “Okay, yeah,” I take in a full breath, “okay, let’s go. I’ll drive.”