Page 106 of Power Play

It was…bliss. Heaven. Some overworked muscle in my brain got to relax. And that, combined with an incredible rookie year, made me lazy.

I stopped working as hard in the weight room. Skipped meetings with Sharma. I ignored advice from my coaches because I thought I somehow knew better. Then weather on the ice started to change and it took me awhile because I’d let that muscle go, but I realized people were unhappy with me.

Unhappy enough to want to trade me. Dad had been on my case. Wyatt had been apoplectic watching what he called my lazy-ass play. Even Dillon had reached out. Reminding me what was at stake.

Well, I straightened up real quick. The muscle was reactivated, and I was diligent until the storm passed and I stayed diligent. Coaches called me a leader. They gave me more and more responsibility mentoring young players. Talking to the prima donnas who would cause trouble. Smoothing over personality clashes in the locker room.

I did it because I was good at it.

So I knew it was coming. This storm brewing in the truck was a hurricane. Silent. Gathering energy and force. If I didn’t handle this right, something told me lives were going to get ruined.

“Pie?” I asked, looking in the backseat where Tess sat, bandaged and looking exhausted.

“No,” she said. “I’m too tired. Can we go tomorrow?”

“We have food at home. I can make you some eggs if you’re hungry later,” Kit said. She put a hand on my arm and quickly took it away. I wanted to grab it and put it back on my arm. I wanted to hold it so the wind couldn’t tear us apart.

But I’d already done it. She’d said,I think I’m falling in love with you,and I’d said nothing.

“Let’s get her home,” Kit said.

I nodded and turned the car towards the cove where we were staying. The doctor didn’t see any signs of a concussion, but we were supposed to keep an eye on her and wake her up every hour or so to make sure she stayed symptom free. I knew the protocol. I’d been through a dozen concussion assessments.

I pulled into the parking space and carried Tess into the house.

“Where to?” I asked. “Comfy couch to watch a movie? Comfy couch on the porch to look at books? Back to your bed?”

“Movie,” she said, her head on my shoulder, her arms around my neck.

She was an excellent weight in my arms. Sturdy. Solid. And she trusted me so she was heavy against me. If I looked down I could see the cut on her head, long and jagged. It made my heart stop.

It could have been so much worse. Terrifyingly worse.

I kissed her head, away from the scar, and laid her down on the couch. I pulled a blanket over her and picked up the remote to turn on the TV.

“You want to finish the movie we started yesterday?”

She nodded, her eyelids already starting to droop.

I could feel Kit in the doorway, watching us. Waiting.

“I’m going to get snacks,” I told her.

“And drinks,” she said.

“And drinks,” I reiterated and walked past Kit, into the kitchen.

“You need to call Janice,” Kit said.

“How about you give me the highlights of your conversation with her and I will call her after,” I said, pulling graham crackers from the cupboard.

“She’s going to be here tomorrow.”

“Really?” I asked, not looking at her. “Everything is okay, she doesn’t need to come back early.”

“She said it was only a few days early and she missed Tess.”

I nodded and poured Tess a glass of orange juice and added a little fizzy water which she called fancy orange juice.

---