Page 163 of Between the Blue
I turn my head to follow where he’s pointing, and I realize it’s right at the woman with the chocolate box.
“I…”
“James!” Rick calls.
“Rick, I’m sure that sign–”
“Bennett! Hey!” Rick continues, cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice.
Ben’s head snaps in our direction suddenly, and when he spots Rick, he skates over to us. I immediately feel like crawling into my own skin as he approaches the bench.
“Yes, sir?” Ben says.
“Addie’s gonna get footage of you with that fan over there,” Rick says, motioning towards the woman.
Ben looks over at the woman, then turns back to Rick. “You want me to give her my stick?”
“Yes, please.”
“Sounds good,” Ben says.
I’m simply standing there looking between the two of them, hoping that someone will back out of this plan. And then Ben skates a few feet over to where the equipment manager is on the bench, leaning in and asking him for something. The manager turns around, sorting through the few dozen hockey sticks he has behind the bench before handing Ben one that’s identical to the one he’s using.
He skates back over to us, then turns his attention to me. “You coming, Addison?”
I pull my head back, but then realize he’s acting like a perfect professional now because we’re in front of Rick.
“I sure am,” I nod, trying to do the same.
Ben opens the door to the bench for me, and I hesitantly step out onto the ice. He holds out his elbow to me, and I gladly take it for support as he shuffles us over to where the woman stands with the sign.
She’s already jumping up and down and squealing before we even get to her, seeming to have put two and two together that we’re headed her way.
Once we reach her, I go into work mode, taking out my phone and beginning to video. Ben smiles at the woman, nodding before he holds his hockey stick up, pointing towards her box of chocolates. She screams some more, blowing him a kiss as he raises the stick to slip it over the top of the glass. She accepts it as all the fans around her cheer her on, and then she tosses the heart-shaped box of chocolates over the glass. Ben easily catches it, and then turns to face the camera, standing in front of the glass by the woman and posing with a tight smile as he waves. He does this all so smoothly and professionally, as if he’s done it a million times over, that I nearly forget I’m the filming rather than just viewing the moment.
I shake my head, ending the video and giving the two of them a thumbs up.
The woman shouts that she loves Ben several more times, and he tells her thank you as he moves towards me, holding out his arm once again to lead me back to the bench. I take it, but something in me won’t let me look at him on the way back. I have a weird feeling deep in my chest as I see every woman in my peripheral vision losing their mind over Ben as we make our way across the ice. By the time he opens the bench door once again, I step through it and head straight for the tunnel without so much as a “thank you” or a glance in his direction.
I just need a minute.
I just need to breathe.
I double check that I’ve crossed everything off my to-do list. I even take one more look through all the social media notifications, including those on Ben’s hockey stick video, before I shut my laptop.
The boys won tonight, and it was quite the action-packed game, including a hat trick from Rhett, a shutout from Luke, and a fight from Ben, of course, so the press went on for a little longer than usual afterwards.
Or at least I assume it did.
I avoided it as much as I could.
I avoided him.
Not that I’d admit it out loud.
But I should be in the clear now. The sound from outside of the arena workspace has gradually died down over the last hour and it's well past the time that everyone usually leaves.
I slide my tote bag over my shoulder as I move to open the door. Something makes me hesitate for a moment before I open it, but, once I do, I’m relieved to find the hallway empty.
