Page 20 of Puck of the Irish

“Oh my god, I think he’s really hurt,” someone says quietly from one of the seats and that gets my attention. I realize now that the entire stadium has gone eerily quiet. Something is wrong. I jerk my head away from my toe-to-toe with dad,searching the rink down below. The goal is clear against the wall and medics are on the ice loading someone onto one of those boards. My heart clenches.Oh God. I run across the room, closer to one of the big screens that display the games up in these suites to get a better look. Who is it? What happened?Oh God, not him…please…

“Natalie?” dad says, stepping up beside me and putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. The animosity from moments ago has disappeared, and I want to throw my arms around him. For a second, he’s just being my dad, concerned by something that’s obviously upsetting to me. He has his moments, I’ll give him that. That’s why our relationship is so fucking frustrating, because in times like this, I’m reminded of how much I love the man, how alike we are and how if we could just shift a few edges a tiny bit, we’d fit together perfectly. He’s a good dad, great even when he puts all the other bullshit aside, but he can only seem to do that sporadically, and it’s in those times that the edges that need shifting seem like mountains that we’ll never be able to move.

But for the moment, I appreciate his steady hand on my shoulder as I try to figure out what the hell is going on, to see which one of my friends might be hurt. My heart pounds loudly in my ears, over and over as the words echo through my mind.Not him. Not him. Not him.

And then the camera angle shifts as one of the medics moves out of the way and I see who it is.

“Oh God, Shep,” I whisper, covering my mouth with a hand. The camera is focused in on him, on his unmoving body and my stomach twists.Oh God. Where’s Rizzo?The cameraman isn’t helping, staying focused on Shep, so I turn away from the screen and run to the front of the box, leaning out over the railing as my eyes dart over all of the players, trying to find 15…

And then I see him, beating the shit out of one of the guys on the other team. Was he the one responsible for whatever happened to Shep? Is that why Rizzo is going to town on the dude? I’ve seen him in plenty of game time fights, but this is different. This is…frantic and brutal. Eventually he’s pulled off, and the medics get Shep off of the ice and down the tunnel. Everything feels slow and kind of unreal, and I feel cold and detached. I know I need to get myself together.

“Hattie,” I whisper in horror. She’s probably freaking out. Shep is…well, officially he’s her best friend, but it’s easy for anyone to see that she’s completely falling for him.

“Natalie, are you alright?” dad asks when I turn to fly from the suite.

“Not really, dad. That’s my friend down there on that spine board and one of my other friends needs me. I have to go.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “About your friend. We’ll, uh, discuss everything else later.”

I shake my head, trying to focus but my head is a melee. Worry for Shep, worry for Hattie, fucking fury that dad even brought the job shit back up again right now, relief that Rizzo is ok, but worry for him too seeing his best friend hurt…and an intense urge to just throw myself into his arms. It’s all too much.

“Fuck the job offer, dad. I decline.”

With that, I bolt from the room and go to find Hattie.

Shep was awake and talking before they took him to the hospital, and that seems to be enough to let Hattie keep herself together through the rest of the game and the Reindeer Toss afterward. I ask if she wants me to handle it so she can go, but she insists that she stay. I think the distraction is the only thing keepingher sane, honestly, so I throw myself into the event beside her, letting all the crazy block out everything else for a while. I’m desperate to see Rizzo, to make sure he’s alright and…I don’t know, seeing Shep hurt like that just has me feeling like if I don’t get my hands on Rizzo I might go crazy.

I offer to drive Hattie home when it’s all said and done, but she says she’s fine. I think she plans on camping out at the hospital, and I don’t blame her. We say our goodbyes and she goes back up to her office to grab a few things and I wait in the wide hallway on the ground floor. I debate if I should try to find Rizzo or just text him later to check on him, but the decision is made for me when he rounds the corner.

His entire body seems to relax when he sees me and I immediately go to him and wrap my arms around his neck. He hugs me back and in this moment, there’s nothing sexual or heated between us. It’s just two friends being there for each other. He lets out a long, shuddering exhale and then pulls away.

“Are you alright?” I ask, searching those blue eyes that I’m quickly becoming all too familiar with.

“Yeah, I’m good, I just—” His phone rings and he gives me an apologetic look as he fishes it out of his pocket. “Oh I need to grab this, one sec.” I nod, assuming he’s going to walk away to take the call in private, but instead he tugs me out of the middle of the corridor towards the wall with him. A bunch of the other guys walk by and I nod and wave as they leave for the night, Rizzo doing that guy-head-jerk thing in farewell.

He slides the bar to answer what I see now is a FaceTime call. I take a small step away, not wanting to intrude as he holds the phone up in front of his face.

“Hey, ma.” I blink in surprise, the shock on my face making him laugh lightly. He smiles widely, an easy, genuine smile that makes my heart melt a little.

“AJ!” she exclaims in a mix of relief and worry.

I arch a brow at him and mouthAJ?

He cuts his eyes at me over the top of the phone, eyes dancing with mischief.

“Oh God, honey, is Connor alright? We were watching the game on television and saw him get hurt and I was so, so worried.”

“He’s ok. Coach just heard from the hospital.” I exhale roughly in relief and he reaches out and squeezes my hand, almost absently, and I glance around to see if anyone is watching us, but we’re alone. “He’s got a mild concussion and a cracked rib, but no internal bleeding or anything like that. He’s got a couple of stitches for a cut on his head, but it’s superficial—you know how much head wounds bleed even when they’re minor. You remember the time I cracked my head on the workbench in the back of the rink with Hank? Looked like an episode ofCSIback there, but it was totally fine, barely a scratch.”

“Oh I remember it vividly, thank you very much,” she says dryly and I can hear a small hint of her Irish accent. It’s not thick after so many years here, I guess, but it’s definitely there in the almost musical lilt. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, ma, I’m fine, just a little banged up. You know how the Kodiak games always are.” He leans one shoulder against the wall and I mirror his stance, facing him.

“No, I mean about Connor,” she says. Rizzo’s smile fades and I can see just how worried he’d been, how much Shep being hurt really rattled him. “I know seeing him hurt like that must have been hard.”

“I’m alright now that I know he’s alright.”

“Give him and Ollie big love for me. Oh! Do you have a closing date yet?”

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