Page 4 of Fear of Falling

WYATT

45 minutes earlier …

Istormed through the locker room and threw my helmet into my cubby stall. With gritted teeth I ripped at my gear, eager to be rid of it. My team-mates shuffled in behind me, but I paid them no attention. I could practically feel the disappointment coming off them in waves as they headed for their own locker stalls. We’d lost. Again. The sixth straight loss in a row. Each against teams we had annihilated before, which just added insult to injury.

I could feel eyes on me, but I refused to turn around as I quickly took off my gear and shoved it into my cubby. I was pissed off. Beyond pissed off. It was my fault that we didn’t win. There were multiple shots I should have easily made, yet every shot went wide. It was like my head and body weren’t in sync. One by one, I could feel every single gaze of my teammates looking to me for answers. And fuck, I had none to give them.

Strands of sweaty hair hung in my eyes as I sat on the bench, leaning down to unlace my skates. I needed to get out, to leavethis damn locker room and away from everyone. Away from the accusation in their stares.

“B?”

I ignored the nickname everyone on the team called me, shoving my skates into my cubby. Management wouldn’t be thrilled with the mess I’d left it in, but I didn’t have it in me to feel anything other than disappointment and anger.

I was in the middle of stripping off my sweaty under shirt when I felt a presence behind me. I knew who it was. Only my best friend would dare approach me then.

“Fuck off Trevor,” I grunted, grabbing a clean t-shirt and pulling it over my head. I slid on a pair of sweatpants before grabbing my regular shoes. I should have been putting my suit on, ready for the post-game press, but that was the last thing I wanted to do.

“It wasn’t your fault, Wyatt,” Trevor tried again, but I just shook my head.

“Stop.”

“Come on, dude. Don’t be like that.”

I knew I was being a dick, but I couldn’t help it. With the mood I was in, I knew it was in everyone’s best interests that I left before I said something I’d regret. Especially to the one friend that had been with me through thick and thin.

Once I had my shoes on, I stood up and grabbed my bag, pulling my baseball cap over my damp hair. I looked over at Trevor—the stubborn bastard still stood there. “I’ll see you later.”

With that I stalked towards the door. Without a word to anyone else I slipped out of the locker room and headed for the back door of the stadium, away from the reporters I knew would be waiting at the main entrance. After tonight, they'd be like vultures wanting answers on why the Toronto Knights, themost unbeatable team for the last few years, had lost yet another game.

Why their star player, Wyatt Boone, couldn’t make a single shot.

Cursing under my breath I ducked my head lower and shouldered open the door. I took a quick glance around, ensuring the coast was clear before I strode across the parking lot, pressing the button on my key to unlock my car. I tossed my bag in the backseat before quickly sliding in behind the wheel.

All I wanted to do right now was go home and drown my disappointment in alcohol. The idea of getting black out drunk sounded extremely enticing. Yet, the last thing I wanted was to go out and be recognized by the public. Not after they saw the game tonight. I usually didn’t mind going out after a game, celebrating with my boys or even slightly wallowing in a loss, but tonight wasn’t the night for it. I’d be nothing more than a black cloud imposing on everyone’s night.

I sent a quick wave to the security guard by the gate as I drove through, feeling a sense of relief to leave the stadium in my rearview mirror. However, I’d only made it a few blocks before I found myself stuck in game day traffic. Normally I would be in the locker room or doing interviews while the fans left, and by the time I left, the worst of the traffic had dissipated.

Leaning my head back, I pounded the steering wheel in my frustration, knowing I’d be stuck in the traffic for ages. My mood darkened further as my evening of drinking alone in my apartment ebbed further away.

Over thirty minutes later, the traffic eased as I neared home, clutching the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. As soon as I pulled into my apartment parking lot, I wasted no time in grabbing my hockey bag and making my way through the private entrance I used daily.

Up ahead the elevator doors were slowly closing, and not wanting to have to wait for its return, I ran towards it. At the last second, I dangerously shoved my hand between the doors, forcing them open. I briefly noticed someone else was already in there, but I kept my head down, hiding my face as best I could beneath my cap. I knew if I looked up, I would likely be recognized, and that was not what I needed right now. I didn’t trust what I’d say if someone asked me about the game tonight.

Turning my back on them, I pressed the button for my floor, and I leaned against the wall, fighting the urge to tap my foot as I waited for the elevator to go up. As it started to move, I dared a peek towards the other passenger. My eyes took in the long, slender legs, clad in the tightest pair of jeans I’d ever seen. I allowed my gaze to travel further up until I saw the face those legs belonged to.

She stared down at the phone in her hands, her light brown hair falling around her face. From here I could make out a slight frown, and the downward turn of her lips. For some reason I wanted to know why. I could practically see the tension in her shoulders as she hunched forward. There was something about her expression that made me think her day had been just as shitty as mine.

Any further thoughts were paused as the elevator suddenly lurched. Gripping the railing, I held my ground as we came to a screeching halt.What the…

“What the fuck?”

It took a second for me to realize the words were not my own. No, they came from the stranger next to me. My head whipped over to hers, our eyes meeting for the first time. I was struck by a pair of gorgeous brown eyes, widening as she realized what she’d just said.

A slight blush appeared on her cheeks, and despite myself, I felt the corners of my mouth twitch. She looked away but Icouldn’t help but stare at the side of her profile. Even with the red cheeks she was cute. No, not cute…more like beautiful. As soon as the word entered my thoughts, I shoved it aside.

Now’s not the time, Wyatt.

“Are we stuck?” she asked, her voice like honey—though she sounded a little freaked out. I ignored the way her words washed over me, focusing instead on pressing the floor buttons on the panel. When that proved useless, I pressed the emergency button. When nothing happened, my stomach dropped in realization.

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