Page 139 of Need You to Choose Me

I know he’ll at least roll his eyes at that.

He can act angry all he wants, but I know he’ll get over it soon enough. We’re Hendersons, and we’re stubborn. But we’re also lovers in the end.

Me:Love you dork face

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Alex

Adrenaline pumps throughmy body as I check my phone for a fourth time since suiting up for the game. Coach gave me the green light on starting, and the person I wanted to tell the good news still hasn’t responded back to my slew of texts.

“You good?” Clarkson asks.

I wave my phone. “Waiting to hear from Olive. She was supposed to be here by now.”

The four texts I sent her have all gone unanswered. I figured it was because she was driving, but now I’m not sure.

Clarkson adjusts his jersey. “I’m sure traffic is just a bitch. The first game always gets a lot of people traveling to the stadium. The news was reporting a lot of delays last I heard.”

But why wouldn’t she text me back if she was stuck in traffic? “Yeah,” I mutter, the feeling in my gut getting heavier as I settle onto the bench.

“All right, boys,” Coach calls out, entering the locker room. “Are you ready to show the Krakens what we’ve got?”

A majority of the team cheers, but I can’t gather the energy to say anything.

Me:Are you okay? You’re still coming tonight right?

“O’Conner,” Coach calls out. “Get your head in the game, son. Quit texting your mom or whatever piece of ass you’re trying to make plans with. If you want something to celebrate later, we need you here with your team.”

Teeth grinding, I grip the phone and swallow the cool retort that would probably get me into trouble if I spoke it aloud. I can’t risk giving up my spot on the ice.

Clarkson pats my back when I stand to join the huddle. He always gives us pep talks before the games start, but they’re not nearly as good as the ones Olive delivers.

“We had a tough end to last season,” he begins, looking around the room. “But that’s not going to depict how we play today. It’s a new season. A new start. Tonight, we’re going to remind Canada’s team what we’ve got. Are you with me?”

An array of “fuck yeahs” and “damn straights” echo around the locker room.

I feel Clarkson’s eyes on me as I tune out the rest of his speech and follow the guys when they start spilling out of the locker room and toward the arena.

“Hey,” my captain says, pulling me aside. “I can see if Belle can get ahold of her. But we need you in the game tonight, man. And we need you to play like you did at practice. I know it’s probably asking for a lot, but…”

Swallowing, I forced myself to nod. “I need to know she’s okay. If she chose not to come…” Well, that was something I’d have to deal with later tonight. But something tells me it isn’t that at all. She said we’re a team. We agreed.

Teams don’t abandon each other.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” he reassures, but there’s something in his eyes that glints with a shadow of doubt. “I’ll try getting a message to Belle before we go out there, okay? But tonight is a chance to prove yourself. You’re not the Alex O’Conner of last season. You’re not a rookie. You’re a Penguin, and you’re here to stay.”

Here to stay.

I dip my chin. “All right.”

He smacks my back again before we wind up with the rest of the team. I don’t know what Clarkson says to one of the PAs, but she runs off after he gives her a quick order and a head nod in my direction.

Anxiety bubbles under my skin as the music starts playing for our introduction. The crowd gets louder, their anticipation not fueling me the way it used to.

I love hockey.

I love the adrenaline and the noise and the pain that comes with getting slammed into the boards or overworking your muscles trying to outskate your rivals. The buzz under my skin warms my body no matter how cold the arena feels once my skates hit the ice.

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