Drew
FIFTY-ONE
I stare down at the last text I sent Jules, asking her to call me, to which there was no reply. For two days, there’s been no response. Lavinia’s keeping me up to date. I know they arrived home safely, I know Jules isn’t sick.
The team got back from New York hours ago and since then, I’ve been to my parents house, my house, Roman and Lavinia’s apartment, the two of them are nowhere. Now Lavinia isn’t replying to my messages either.
We’re supposed to play another game tonight before we have two days rest, which my shoulder desperately needs.
Jules was probably with her overstepping because I’ll play until my shoulder makes it impossible for me to do it anymore while she’s out there trying to make sure I can at least still use my arm when all’s said and done.
“Have you heard from Lavinia?” I ask Roman.
He looks up from his phone. “Yeah, she and Jules are at some storage facility.”
I’m immediately relieved and anxious. “She’s looking through Gemma’s things?”
Roman shrugs because he has no idea who Gemma is or why it’s significant that Jules is looking through her things. I helped Lavinia put away those boxes almost a decade ago and as far as I know, Jules has never been there again.
Why is she there now? Is she okay?
Why the fuck is she ignoring me?
“Who’s Gemma?” Reese asks.
“Her aunt,” I say, distracted as I type out another text to Jules. “She died when we were in college.”
“Drew,” Kai calls.
I look up at him in question.
He looks down at my phone and then back up at me. “Texting her repeatedly isn’t going to help. She might be going through something and she might need space.”
Swallowing, I drop my phone. I’m not denying he’s wrong, and the last thing I want to do is pressure Jules into talking to me. If she wants space, I’ll give her space.
The thing is, I don’t know what she wants. She loves to drive me crazy for fun. I don’t know if she actually needs space from me, if she’s upset about our conversation, or if she’s doing this because she wants to teach me a lesson.
I don’t believe it’s the latter because she’s not that childish, and she’s definitely not toxic. Jules loves to talk about anything and everything. She’s shared so many intimate details about herself with me that I can’t believe something like this will warrant the silent treatment.
I push a hand through my hair.
Roman claps a hand over my shoulder. “Did you two have a fight?”
“Not exactly. We had a disagreement.”
I can’t help thinking that if I’d told her I loved her that morning in Vegas, I wouldn’t have gone the last two days with her ignoring me.
“So it was a fight,” Ford says.
“It was a disagreement,” I say. “Jules and I used to fight all the time. I think I can tell the difference between our fights and a disagreement.”
“Are you doing a man thing where you think it was a disagreement and she’s overreacting when really she’s reacting appropriately and you’re not understanding the situation?” Kai asks.
“No, we both reacted appropriately during the disagreement.” I sigh, rubbing two fingers over my temples.
They probably won’t understand what the hell I’m talking about until I tell them what happened.
“We were having a disagreement, she very angrily told me she loved me, and I guess I took a moment too long to reply.”
The dressing room goes quiet. It’s an unusual experience for it to be so silent while we’re all here, unless we’ve lost a big game.
I look up just in time to see a glove flying at me and I catch it before it hits me in the face.
“What the fuck, Reese?” I growl.
“You know what? I’m Team Jules,” he says.
“What do you mean you took too long to reply?” Kai asks. “You love her, why didn’t you say it?”
“When a woman you’re crazy about tells you she loves you, you don’t fucking freeze,” Ford says.
“You made a big mistake.” Holden shakes his head in disappointment.
“I’m glad Jules is ignoring you. You deserve much worse,” Roman adds.
On the one hand, I’m glad they’re Team Jules. On the other hand, we’re literally a team and these idiots have zero faith in my ability to love my woman.
“I froze out of shock and excitement because I never expected Jules to say those words to me,” I say through gritted teeth. “It’s not because I needed a moment to think whether I love her or not. Before I could say anything, her cab arrived and she left. Now she’s ignoring me.”
“That’s marginally better,” Kai concedes. “But Jules will need a lot of reassurance from you and so will we that you’re not going to hurt her.”
I look him in the eyes. “I’m not going to hurt her.”
“You know what you need?” Reese says. “A grand gesture. Something that proves that you love her.”
“I don’t think Jules needs a grand gesture for me to prove my love,” I say.
Another glove comes flying at me. “Cut it out,” I growl.
“It’s not about what she needs,” Holden says. “It’s about what you’re willing to do for her. Roman wore Lavinia’s jersey to a match against her ex. Grand fucking gesture. He proved that he didn’t care about regulations and fucked the patriarchy all in one.”
“To be fair, I didn’t freeze up when Lavinia said she loves me,” Roman says. “My grand gesture was more of a fuck you to the patriarchy.”
“I think it still counts,” Kai says.
“Well, Jules hates athletes and she’s never played a sport, so I can’t wear her jersey to play,” I say, as something occurs to me. “But there might be something else I can do.”
My mind churns with an idea and I grab my phone and quickly shoot off a text. I don’t expect a reply right now and I’m surprised when one pops up right away. Exiting out of the chat, I open another one and send off another detailed chat and receive a thumbs up in reply.
I can’t wear her jersey, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fight the monsters in her life so she doesn’t have to.
***
I’m distracted during the game, by the ache in my shoulder and the silence from my girlfriend.
I’m hoping the guys are right and the act of a grand gesture works.
Now that I think about it, it’s so fucking obvious that she’d be upset I didn’t say anything after she said she loved me.
Anything would have been better than silence.
Sweat trickles down my back, my heart beating fast as I watch the puck.
We’re playing against Minnesota tonight and I watch their defenseman pass the puck over our blue line.
I glance up into the crowds waiting for us to score, and I look away because tonight, the pressure feels too much.
But just as I look away, something flashes in my peripheral vision and I’m turning around, searching the crowd.
My eyes find her immediately.
Messy blonde hair and an oversized Titans sweatshirt that’s swallowing her whole. She raises a tentative hand in a wave and my heart slams in my chest. She’s here.
Ford is yelling in my ear and the crowd is shouting, but the only thing I can focus on is she’s fucking here.
I’m moving before I realize, my legs pushing me forward as fast as possible.
People are shouting my name but I don’t care.
They can say whatever the fuck they want.
It doesn’t matter to me. I drop my stick and remove my helmet before I climb over the boards into the audience section.
People turn to look at me like I’ve lost my mind.
I have lost my mind because for the last two days, I’ve felt untethered, like I’m not sure where I belong.
Jules stands up as I climb toward her, looking extremely distressed, her lips pinched, brows furrowed. Her eyes and nose are red, as if she’s been crying.
Sometimes I wonder if I was always meant to be enthralled by her, like it’s my reason for existing.
If she was a cloud, I’d be the lovesick fool looking up at her and trying to find all her shapes.
If she was the Earth, I’d be her moon, bound to her by a gravitational pull, forever lighting her dark skies.
“Drew, oh my god, what are you doing?” Her words barely reach my ear over the rush of my own thoughts. “You’re in the middle of a game. There has to be a penalty for this--”
“Fuck it,” I growl. Placing my hands on either side of her face, I lean down and kiss her. Jules is startled for a second before her body relaxes into mine, hands coming up to grip my jersey tightly. She’s soft and warm, and for the first time in two days, my mind quiets completely.
There are no voices, no worries, no judgement. I’m finally home.
“I love you,” I say, pulling back from her. We’re both breathing hard, our chest rising and falling. “I couldn’t wait another second, let alone two more periods, before I could tell you how much I love you.”
The brightest smile blooms across Jules’s face, her cheeks flushing red, eyes brimming with tears. She’s the most chaotic and beautiful part of my life and I loved her with every fiber of my being, more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.
“I love you, too,” she whispers.
The words are like music to my ears. I lean down to kiss her again because I need to feel her soft mouth against mine, taste the words on her lips.
“Don’t you think you should get back to the game?” Jules whispers. “You’re the captain. What is everyone going to say?”
I tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “They can say whatever they want. I only want to be next to you.”
She offers me a tremulous smile in return, clutching onto my jersey like I’m going to disappear.
How doesn’t she realize that I’ll never leave her side?
She’s stuck with me for the rest of our lives, and if I can find a way to tether myself to her for the rest of eternity, I’ll do anything to make it happen.
***
I remove Jules from the crowd and lead her into the dressing room. I’ve just committed a game misconduct and there’s no way I can return to the ice. I’ll probably be suspended and heavily fined, not to mention I left the guys shorthanded on the ice, giving the other team an advantage.
“Drew, aren’t there consequences for this?” Jules asks, walking next to me. Her hand is cupped in my gloved one.