Chapter 24
Molly
Hockey games are the shit, I swear I literally live for them. The fighting, the biting air in the arena, the crushing tension all around when the teams are neck and neck. But mostly nowadays, I get the biggest thrill from watching Kyle have in depth conversations with the posts, as he waits for the puck to come his way. Goalies are a little nuts and we all know this, any hockey fan will be aware of the stereotype that goalies tend to be a few screws short of a tool kit. My guy isn’t crazy though, not really, he’s sweet and shy and I swear butter would melt on his tongue he’s so damn hot. But when he’s on the ice it’s like he transforms and I'm fucking addicted to watching him. The passion and fury that bursts out of him as the adrenaline takes over, when his head is totally absorbed in the game is addictive to watch. I’ve been at every single one of his games for the past two months and the best part is, I’ve tricked Callie into believing I'm coming for her sake, to hold her mountain of snacks and help her in and out of the way too tiny seats we’re crammed into. Now her body is growing it’s a little harder for her to get around as easily, luckily her gymnastics season has finished and won’t restart for her now until after she's had the baby. That is if she even wants to continue. Lois has taken over as captain, but is too busy most of the time texting Callie every thirty-seconds for updates about how her niece or nephew is cooking away inside her womb. Callie finds out next weekend if she’s having a boy or a girl. I fucking hope it’s a girl, mainly to see the pure terror in Sean’s face, but also because I can’t imagine my poor best friend having to deal with Sean Taylor senior and junior. Jesus, that would be carnage.
The game is kind of slow tonight I can’t lie, I’ve found myself picking at my nails a fair bit and twisting Callie’s mane of curls around my fingers when nothing much has been happening on the ice. The team the guys are playing tonight are practically on equal footing points wise and you can definitely tell that the crowd aren’t feeling it much right now. But as we enter the third period and the guys both have two goals each under their belts, suddenly I feel the tension thicken around us and my focus latches onto the puck. Everyone is on their feet in seconds, as the clock ticks on toward the end of the game and Sean has the puck under a fierce control. He flies across the ice, passing to Nick who passes back so quickly my eyes can barely follow the puck. As Sean reaches the net he shoots hard, the puck barely skimming the goalie’s left shoulder and hitting the back of the net while the arena explodes. The guys pile on Sean, shoulder pats and congratulatory slaps on the back of his helmet are in excess, but the only one watching the situation at the other end of the rink seems to be me. That’s because my eyes are almost always on him, my favourite person in the world and when the aggression visibly builds between him and one of the opposing defensemen, my heartbeat sky rockets. Their helmets are off in less time than I can blink and Kyle’s fist whips through the air, landing with a crack against the defensemen’s jaw. Sean and Nick zip across the ice, followed by Lewis, Mac and most of the team, all coming to the defence of their goalie. Kyle lands another smack against the opponent’s face, this time a splattering of ruby blood hits the ice, painting it. Before Sean can reach out and yank the defensemen backwards though, he throws a sloppy punch at Kyle and catches him off guard. Kyle’s neck twists, before he falls to the ice. His hand flies to his neck, wincing in pain as Sean literally throws the defensemen across the rink and bends down to Kyle, his own caramel eyes full of worry for his friend. I’m out of my seat before Callie can stop me, her pregnancy is on my side today, making her slower than usual and unable to grab at me before I can sprint down the stairs towards the ice. My eyes are locked on him, unable to drag my panicked gaze away until the medic reaches him and carts him quickly off the ice. Sean spots me as I reach the edge of the rink and skates over to me, lifting me onto his back without a word and whizzing across the ice with me clinging to him like a koala.
I jump off him, muttering a rambled, “Thanks Taylor,” and jogging down the hallway to where the sound of Kyle’s muffled yells are coming from. “Fuck! Please stop pressing on it like that!” Kyle’s pained cry comes from behind the medical room door and I burst through it like a bull on a rampage. My worried eyes bounce around the room, before I finally land on him. He’s lying flat on the medical bed, one hand on his neck, eyes screwed tightly in pain. His jagged breaths are the only thing to break the silence when I fly through the door.
“Molly, you can’t be in here.” Callie’s dad says, stern expression making me want to laugh in his face. The guy is kind of strict I guess, but he’s like a puppy dog in my eyes and there’s no fucking way he’s stopping me from being here right now.
I scoff, hand landing on my hip. “The fuck I can’t,” I'm yelling, I know, but I'm mad ok, so just let me be. “That’s my—my…” I look at Kyle, who strains to see me from his bed, before his head lands back on the pillow with a burst of pain. “Just move,” I grumble, ducking around Kyle’s coach and clutching his face between my hands.
“Hey,” I coo, stroking a thumb over each of his cheeks. “What the fuck happened?”
Kyle’s smile blinds me as he inhales a croaky breathe and leans into my touch. “You’re here,”
“Of course I'm here,” I let out a light laugh of disbelief. “Where the fuck else would I be?”
The guy’s even more nuts than I thought if he imagined I’d watch him get hurt and not even bother to check on him. Maybe his idea of this thing between is totally warped, but not in the way I had originally thought. “My neck is in agony Mol, I can barely move it without a shooting pain going straight down my back.” He winces again and I flap my hands through the air, no idea how to help him, but desperate to in any way I can. Sean then comes through the medical room door like a tornado, bringing a gust of spicy aftershave laced wind with him and making my nose tickle. I turn to Kyle’s coach, his arms across his chest and an unconcerned look etched deep into his eyebrows. “So, what do we do now?”
“We?” Eyebrows go shooting into his almost nonexistent hairline. “there is no ‘we’ Molly, the medics will deal with him and he may need to go the hospital.”
Kyle yells out a muffled curse behind me and the protective fire in my belly ignites. “If he needs to go to the hospital then I’ll take him.”
“I’ll come with you Mol,” Sean pipes up and I gift him a thank you smile, rubbing Kyle’s leg comfortingly. I run a hand through Kyle’s hair, kissing his lips lightly and swallowing the curse that leaves his mouth, as he cranes his neck upwards to deepen the kiss. I push his shoulders down gently as Callie shoves the medical room door open too, the small space now pretty packed with people. Her stomach protrudes out, her being nearly twenty weeks will do that, but she’s not lost her sass and she stands there with her hands locked onto her hips and eyebrows knitted together.
“What the hell was that Davis?” She squawks and I feel Kyle shrink under her stare. It’s hilarious how my five-foot-four best friend manages to make all these huge, hunky hockey players cower with fear when she unleashes her sharp tongue on them.
“Jesus Christ, is this some sort of mother’s meeting?” Callie’s dad grumbles, waving a dismissive arm through the air and leaving the room, with a pat on his daughter’s growing belly.
“Ok, enough of this chit chatting,” I click my fingers towards Sean, instructing him. “Sean, bring him out to the car.”
Sean shakes his head on a rumbling laugh and wraps an arm around Kyle’s shoulder, lifting him to his feet with ease. Kyle’s hand whips up to his neck as his eyes crease with pain again, I can’t fucking stand to watch it, it’s making my chest ache.
“You’ve got your hands full with this one man,” Sean titters, nodding towards me. “And I know better than anyone what that’s like, so good luck is all I can wish you right now.”
Kyle grips Sean's shoulder tightly, keeping his neck straight. “Your hands are about to be a hell of a lot fuller in about five months.”
“Hey,” it's Callie’s turn to click her manicured nails now, gathering the boys’ attention. “You two know we’re still in the room right? And I might be pregnant and not able to run as fast now, but I’ll still twist your balls until they fall off.” She points from Kyle to Sean. “Both of you.” Kyle gulps hard, a sweaty hand automatically reaching up to scratch his head like he always does when he’s nervous. But the shot of pain that flies up his spine makes him buckle in agony. Luckily, Sean has his weight in his arms and keeps Kyle on his feet, leading him out to his monster of a car and loading him into the back with me.
The hospital is pretty dead for a Saturday night, the only disruptions to our checking in was a couple of drunken hooligans that tried to grope Callie’s ass. They were swiftly greeted with a fist in the stomach from Sean, before they were quickly removed by the nurses. Kyle had a scan about an hour ago and luckily for him it's only nerve damage to his neck, nothing that won’t heal in three to five weeks. But of course, he’s now sulking because Coach has said he’ll have to be benched until his neck is fully healed. He can’t be playing hockey with a neck that doesn’t twist, without making him keel over in blinding pain. But of course Kyle is as stubborn as anything and has been almost nonstop arguing with his coach on the phone since the results of his scan came through. He’s been trying desperately to negotiate his time on the bench down to two weeks, but with no luck. Callie’s dad won’t budge and is insistent that Kyle listens to the doctor’s advice. I have to say, I'm relieved that his coach isn’t as much of a push over as I originally thought he was. I want Kyle to rest too, but I understand better than anyone how fucking infuriating it is to watch your teammates compete without you, as you sit on the sidelines, injured.
After about half an hour of quiet huffing to himself, Kyle finally admits defeat and sits up to drink his coffee and chat to Sean. My mind drifts to the last time I was injured, my calf muscle tore mid race and I fell to ground, writhing in pain. The first thing I did was call my mum, who came speeding down the motorway to get to me that night, hugging me close as the doctor examined me and determined that I couldn’t run for at least a month. I was devastated, feeling like the one thing in my life that I loved had been snatched from me cruelly and that I had nothing to live for. I know that’s dramatic, but what can I say, I have a flair for the arts.
But the memory of wanting nobody but my mum by my side to comfort me in only the way she can, has me thinking right now, maybe Kyle’s mum would want to know her son was hurt. I know Kyle said she doesn’t give a shit about him, but surely she must care at least a tiny bit…right? Should I call her and let her know? I don't know, am I over stepping if I do that? Or is that just what any good girlfr—
Woah, what the fuck was that invasive thought that just burrowed its way into my skull and took full control of my brain?
Jesus Christ, I'm really loosing it. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, or the extra heavy mental load I'm carrying right now, or maybe it’s the fact my best friend is pregnant and extra hungry all the time, or maybe it’s—it’s…urgh. Maybe it’s the fact I'm falling so deeply in love with this guy that I can’t fucking think straight.
I don’t want this, I don’t want these feelings and I wish they’d all piss off and leave me alone to be a cold hearted witch like I’ve always been, avoiding love and all it brings, but remaining perfectly happy alone. Or maybe I'm not happy alone after all, I don’t fucking know. All I know is I think I should call Kyle’s mum and let her know what’s happened tonight, just in case she does worry and want to see or speak to her son. “Can I borrow your phone Ky? Mine’s dead,” I ask and he nods without hesitation, gesturing to where his phone sits on the side table. I drop a light peck to his cheek, before ducking out with his phone safely pocketed to find Callie. She disappeared to the toilet about ten minutes ago, but when I step out into the evening breeze, I see her sitting on a bench outside the hospital entrance, her lungs expanding slowly on repeat. I plant a hand on her shoulder and she jumps a little, giving me a whack to the stomach as I sit down beside her. “Jesus Mol, don’t scare me like that. The baby nearly jumped out of my womb.”
I stifle a chuckle. “Sorry, what are you doing out here on your own?” “I just needed a moment of fresh air to get rid of the nausea and Sean won’t let me out of his sight, so I had to say I needed to pee.” She breathes a laugh, “It’s the only time he’ll let me do anything on my own nowadays.” “He looks after you doesn’t he? He’s a big teddy bear.”
“He is that. Sometimes he holds me so close to him at night though, I feel like I'm in a fucking sauna with The Rock, smothering me to death.” I bark a laugh, reaching into my pocket for Kyle’s phone and scrolling through his contacts.
“I’m just gonna call Kyle’s mum and let her know what happened tonight, she might want to speak to him if she knows he’s hurt,” I mutter, about to press the call button when Callie’s hand stops me and her eyebrows come together with uncertainty.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea Mol, you know they don’t have a great relationship right?”
I nod, finger hovering over the green button. “I know, but maybe she’d like to know if her son was hurt,” I shrug, “no harm in calling her right?” Callie holds her hands up in defeat. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she stands up and makes her way back inside, leaving me in the silence of the quiet evening.
I tap call and press the phone to my ear. “Hi, I'm Molly, Kyle’s…” Why the fuck have I got stuck on that label twice in one evening? Come to think of it, what the fuck am I? Kyle’s friend? Doesn’t seem right, but whatever.
“What do you want?” Squawks an unfriendly, croaky voice on the other end of the phone and my heart gallops faster.
I clear my crackly throat. “I just thought you might want to know that Kyle was injured during a game tonight, he’s damaged a nerve in the back of his neck.”
“Ha,” she barks, a cold, uncaring undertone in her voice making the red seep into my vision. “And why would I care about that? Does he need me to kiss it better or something? Oh no, I guess you can do that for him, can’t you?”
What the fuck is this woman’s problem? Maybe Kyle and Callie were both right about her, she really doesn’t give a shit about her son.
My claws come out then, needing to protect the person I care about the most. “You fucking bitch,” I hiss and her startled gasp rockets through the phone speaker.
“Who the hell do you think you’re—?”
I end the call before she can spit any more venom at me, her icy tone has made my legs shaky and uneasy. The way she really doesn’t give a shit about Kyle, forces the bubble of tears to rise like bile in my throat. But I swallow them hard, knowing I have to gather my strength tonight, for him. He needs me and if I'm all he has then I’ll be there for him, not just tonight, but always.