Page 22 of Ice, Ice… Maybe?

“Torry… Ecca…” he breathed, trying not to move his mouth – and she nodded, trying not to cry. He was going to end up with stitches for sure. They would need to set his nose and would probably have two black eyes – if he didn’t lose his front teeth. Seeing his form sliding across the ice had really done a number on her. Looking at him now, she kept seeing that charming, flirty smile when he’d first said hello to her in the stands, remembering all his text messages and phone calls fondly.

“Do you mind if I stay here for a bit and keep you company?”

“Ew ture?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” she smiled and saw Davy bringing a chair over to that side of the room. “Davy and I are going to have a nice little chat about all the embarrassing things you did when you were a child – and you’ll be helpless to stop us.”

And treasured his pained laugh, before he winced again.

“Wip… my tace… awtul…”

“I know your lip hurts. I’m sorry I made you laugh. I just wanted you to feel better,” she hesitated guiltily, pulling away and releasing his hand – only to have him grab her wrist.

“Tay…”

“I’m staying,” she smiled, feeling her lips wobble precariously at the fear in his eyes – and leaned down to whisper in his ear. “See, when you treat someone like a princess, it’s pretty hard to get rid of them. I hope you understand what a can of worms you’ve opened, my friend. I kinda like the attention from you.”

Feeling brave, she dropped a brief kiss on his temple, feeling his hand give hers a gentle squeeze as she backed away.

“Guh,” he tried to say and hesitated. “Guuuhhd.”

She sat down in the chair beside the hospital bed, holding his hand still as Davy looked at the two of them.

“This is downright cozy – even if there are other places I’d rather be,” Davy teased emotionally. “Miss Becca, how do you take your coffee, sweetie? I’ll go get us a cup and give you a few minutes alone.”

“Typical,” she replied nervously, silently reciting her usual order of apumpkin spice latte with extra whip cream because I’m a total Starbucks addict?“A little sugar, a little creamer, and black like my soul.”

“Ha! I doubt that if you are putting up with this golden boy.”

“Ah… tunny,” Travis volunteered, attempting to mock his uncle, making the older man laugh. Obviously, between his reaction, her brother’s stories, and Davy’s reaction – Travis was not what anyone would consider a ‘golden’ boy for quite some time. Then again, was Becca ever shocked at some of the gossip about sports players in the media? Who was dating who, So-and-so was dating this starlet, who was getting divorced, who was sleeping around, etc.… maybe that was what made her so nervous about trusting him because she was expecting the worst and hadn’t found it yet.

Davy left the room to go for the coffee and Becca sat there silently beside Travis, who closed his eyes – obviously exhausted from all of this. She simply held his hand, unsure what to say or do… and realized it didn’t matter.

None of it did.

She just needed to be here for him, and she wanted him to know she was. Life wasn’t always fun and exciting. It was raw, humbling, and humiliating at times, and pain always showed their vulnerability. They hadn’t even been on a date yet, and the panic in his eyes told her he was scared she’d brush him off. A broken nose could change his appearance, but only slightly. If his jaw was broken, he could need surgery. His lip would obviously need stitches, and the good ol’ ‘hockey players have no front teeth’ myth could actually be very real.

And she didn’t care.

So long as Travis was okay, they could roll with all of it – and she knew it. Deep down in her soul, she knew everything would be okay, somehow. The doctor entered the hospital room not two minutes later and nodded at her.

“Mrs. Giroux?”

“No, I’m just a friend.”

“Ah, well, okay. Mr. Giroux, do you have someone here to speak for you – we need to discuss your X-rays and treatment,” and she felt Travis’s eyes on her before he uttered her name brokenly.

“Ecca?”

“Me? Oh Travis, um…” and saw the fear in his face and the way he was trying to keep from moving his mouth. “Yes. Hi. You can talk to me, and I’ll speak for him,” she whispered nervously. “His uncle is here too, so the both of us can help Travis.”

“Sounds good to me,” the doctor shrugged, almost in a cold, matter-of-fact fashion. “I’m going to stitch up his lip and set his nose, but you are a very lucky man. I expected to see the orbital bone fractured or at least the maxilla, but both are intact. I see a mild concussion, which is not unexpected from the impact. You’ll need to take it easy and see your dentist. You could still lose those front teeth due to trauma, but that is for the dentist to decide.”

“So just stitches, set his nose, and rest?”

“In a nutshell – yes.”

“Oh, thank heavens.”

---