36. Winnie
I stare down my lens, trying to get the perfect snapshot. Someone skates in front of me, but instead of moving out of the way, they stop right in front. I lower my camera and peer at the guy curiously.
“Can I help you?”
“You could give me your number.”
I’ll give it to blondie here. He has balls for outright asking. Or maybe he’s a cocky douche; I’m leaning toward the latter.
“No, thank you.”
I skate to the side and lift my camera, only for him to follow. He places a gloved hand on top of it, forcing it down, and I see red.
“You want to lose that hand? Don’t touch my camera.”
My words only egg the man on. He moves closer, forcing me toward the wall. I’m not that great on my skates, and the circumstance in front of me doesn’t make me any better. He skates forward, and in my attempt to get away, my skate glides out from under me, and I fall to my ass.
The guy laughs, but I’m too focused on making sure my camera is okay to care about him.
Suddenly, he’s gone from in front of me, crashing into the wall a foot away. I throw a hand to my mouth as Reese pounds on the guy’s face.
Someone else lifts me by the elbows. Sawyer spins me, looking over my face.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, no. I’m fine. I just tripped.”
“What really happened, Snaps?” His voice is hard, much like his sharp jaw right now.
I glance in the direction of Reese and the guys, tumbling on the ice as the refs simply watch. I know they typically allow the guys to throw a few punches before breaking it up, but the game hasn’t even started yet.
“He was just being annoying, so I backed up and lost my balance. Really, that’s all, Sawyer.”
A whistle blows, and he curses. A second later, I’m being lifted into his bulky, padded arms, and he’s skating across the rink.
Embarrassment burns like wildfire up my body.
“Put me down,” I hiss.
“Reese is losing his fucking mind, Winnie. Just let me get you off the ice before something else happens.”
“Your girlfriend is going to blow a gasket.”
He shoots me a glare and clenches his jaw. “I know.”
The refs eventually get the fight broken up. Reese yells something at the guy with a bloody face as the ref drags him away, but I can’t hear what he said. Halfway across the rink, he turns, narrows in on me, and skates faster than I’ve ever seen him. He hops the wall and drops to the floor in front of me on his knees. He cups my face, even though I should be the one cupping his. He’s bloody, but I’m not sure if it’s his blood or that guy’s.
“Are you okay?” He shoots a harsh look behind me and lowers his hands down my body, feeling all over. For what? Who knows. I’ve never seen Reese look so… out of it. He’s like a wild animal right now.
“What the fuck happened?” he barks, but it’s not aimed at me.
“Reese.”
The guys around me mutter nonsense, but it does nothing to settle him. I call his name again, finally catching his attention. He presses a hand to my stomach, and his eyes flicker. “I’m going to fucking kill him if something is wrong.”
My heart aches seeing Reese so worried. Logically, I know I’m fine. A stumble to my ass isn’t a big deal, but Reese isn’t thinking logically right now.
I cup his face, forcing his wild eyes to me. He breathes hard, a look of absolute desperation etched across his face.
“I’m fine. We are fine. Okay?”
He breathes out a shuddering breath. “Are you sure? How can you be sure?”
“Because it was just a small fall, Reese. I promise there’s no need to worry, and no need to go to prison.”
He winces, and I regret my words immediately.
“I will get an appointment tomorrow, and you’ll see everything is okay.”
That seems to calm him. His eyes close, and he goes to drop his forehead to my thigh but must remember his bloody face and stops.
“Seeing you on the ground.” His body vibrates under my hands. “It fucked with my head, Win. Scared the shit out of me.”
“We’re okay.” I’ll repeat that as many times as it takes.
“Larson,” Coach barks, and I jump.
Reese lifts his head and looks to his coach with a blank face. My lips tilt down. I don’t like seeing Reese like this. I love that he cares so much, of course, but I don’t want it to completely wreck him every time something not ideal happens. That fall was nothing; it didn’t even hurt my butt, and I know he didn’t see it, but still.
I’ve never seen Reese so untamed.
Reese kisses my forehead and wanders off with his coach, and all I can do is stare after him.
Sawyer nudges my arm and nods his head. “You can come get those shots in the locker room now. We’re all dressed.”
Oh, right. I forgot Schmidt had texted me asking for those.
I stand on shaky legs. Gavin and Beckett place my hands on their shoulders. They probably assume I’m shook up from the fall, but that’s not it at all.
I’m worried about my boyfriend.
“Google says you should be okay, but it doesn’t hurt to see a doctor.”
“WebMD says falling can cause a detached placenta.”
Sawyer smacks the back of Beckett’s head. “The placenta isn’t even fully formed yet. Don’t scare her like that.”
“I’m just telling you what it says!”
I giggle to myself. “Thank you, Beckett.”
As soon as I finished with the photos, a handful of the guys pulled out their phones to google how falling can hurt pregnancies. I did the same but quickly exited out when I saw horror stories that were doing nothing but stressing me out.
Sawyer drops his phone, and the others follow.
“You think they are going to let Larsy play?” someone asks.
My stomach sinks with worry. I know how much Reese hates riding the pine, and it would kill me to know it was my fault he ended up there.
Gavin shrugs. “They better. We need our captain.”
“Hopefully.” Sawyer flicks a look at me. “He needs to burn off some… emotions.”
I lean against Reese’s locker and close my eyes. Taking the photos was a nice distraction, but now my head is pounding.
Something next to me crashes, and I peek an eye open to see Reese’s stick on the ground next to me. I reach down and grasp it, and the room goes silent.
I pause and look around, meeting roughly thirty sets of eyes filled with a mixture of shock and horror.
“What?”
One guy nudges another. “She touched his stick.”
Beckett swallows hard. “Fuck.”
Gavin runs a hand down his face, and my heart rate increases.
“Someone tell me what is happening?”
“Today of all fucking days,” Sawyer grumbles and pushes to his feet. Gavin is right behind him.
“Reese is weird about no one touching his stick. Some kind of superstition.”
Sawyer stops next to me, staring down at the stick in my hand like I’m holding a giant dildo. “It’s a good thing you suck his dick, Snaps.”
“Well, what the hell do I do?” I hiss. Reese is in the coaches’ room right in front of us. He might even be able to hear everything being said right now. He is already in a bad headspace. So if he walks out and sees me holding the stick—
“Should I drop it?”
“Nah, he will know someone touched it,” Tucker says. “One time I touched it, and he gave me a black eye.”
A black eye? Reese would never hit me, but it doesn’t mean he’s not going to be pissed.
“Best to just accept your fate and deal with The Rapture, Snapshot.” Gavin slaps my shoulder. I think it’s meant to be comforting, but it’s not.
“Yeah, maybe he won’t be too rough on you.” Brogan grins. “Or maybe he will.” He winks.
My heart is about to drop out of my ass.
Then the door opens. Coach steps out, looks at me, and huffs. “You okay?”
“Yep.” My voice is squeaky, and I clear it. “All good, Coach.”
“Good. I don’t want you on the ice for games anymore.”
No problems there. I might not live to see the ice again.
Coach steps to the side, and my heart freezes altogether. Reese steps forward with puffy red eyes, but he forces a weak smile when he sees me. He hasn’t looked at the stick in my hand, but he doesn’t necessarily look angry as he walks to me. If this is how The Rapture looks on the ice, no wonder the guys always seem surprised when Reese rocks them.
He stops in front of me, and I swallow hard and smile because I know I won’t be able to get a word out right now.
Being so much taller in his skates, he bends at the waist before he kisses my cheek. “Thanks for holding that, baby.”
He grips the stick and gently takes it from my hand before turning and walking out of the room.
No one else moves. Even Coach is staring after him like he can’t believe what just happened.
I let out a heavy breath and fall against his locker. “You assholes. I was pissing my pants.”
The guys turn in my direction, confusion etched across each of their faces. Some shrug and head out after Reese, while others stay and stare at me.
“So he, like, love loves you,” Gavin comments before heading for the door.
Sawyer is the last one, and he glares at me. “He doesn’t even let me touch it.”
I giggle, stand, and bounce past him, slapping his back. “Maybe you should try sucking his dick.”