Page 182 of Between the Blue
I move to the opening of the tunnel and crouch down just off to the side, holding up my camera as I hear the locker room door open and the sounds of skates padding across the rubber flooring.
I take countless pictures as the players pass me, completely unfazed by the screaming fans all around me in the stands. And, just like I’ve grown used to, as the line of players comes to an end, I let my eyes completely glaze over when he passes me last.
Maybe he looks at me. But he probably doesn’t. Regardless, I don’t want to know. Because I know it doesn’t change anything.
Once Ben skates out onto the ice and the cheers mellow out as warm-ups begin, I get back to my feet. I pull my camera strap from around my neck and take a few steps down the tunnel as I start to review the photos. If I head back to my workspace now, I could have the photos of the guys walking out uploaded to social media before the game even begins.
In my peripheral vision as I’m staring down at my camera screen, I see a trash can just ahead of me and step to the side of it.
And then the hard impact of a body running full speed smacks into me so firmly that it knocks the wind out of me. I stumble backwards, dropping my camera in the process, and before I know what’s happening, I’m on my back and someone is falling halfway on top of me.
I blink my eyes, registering a blur of green, and then look up to find Rhett’s face right above mine.
“Shit, Little Dixon,” he grunts, “I’m so sorry.”
“I… You–” I stammer, then point behind me. “Didn’t you just run out?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Had to change one of my blades. I was behind.”
“Oh,” I mutter as Rhett sits back on his heels, reaching out his hand. I take it, letting him help pull me up to standing. And even though he’s wearing skates, he’s somehow steadier on his legs than I am.
I keep hold of his hand for an extra moment as I attempt to sort myself. It takes me a moment before I remember that I dropped my camera.
“My cam–”
Before I even have the words out, Rhett steps past me, picking up my camera and handing it to me.
“Thanks,” I breathe, taking it back from him. It seems okay upon initial inspection.
“Addie, are you okay?” Rhett asks.
“Honestly, I think my brain got rattled around a little in my head.” I attempt a chuckle. “But I’ll survive.”
Rhett reaches out, pushing my hair out of my face, surprising me. I look up at him, and when I see the look in his eyes, I realize he’s not just referring to my physical state.
I swallow, nodding slowly. “I’m managing,” I tell him.
He opens his mouth, but then closes it, wincing a little. It makes me tilt my head, because it feels like there’s something he’s trying not to say. Like there’s something he knows.
“I’m good, Rhett,” I insist, patting his chest. “I’m a big girl. Thank you for checking, though.”
He lets out a sharp sigh, then nods. “Of course.”
“You’re sweeter than Caroline gives you credit for,” I tell him. “Well, at least to your face.”
Rhett’s brows pull together. “Caroline Barrett?”
I smile tightly, then realize in my foggy state that my hand is still on his chest. I let it fall, but my gaze stays where it just was on his jersey.
“I should know this by now, but remind me what theAon your jersey stands for again,” I ask him.
“Alternate Captain,” he says, tracing the letter with his finger.
“Very fancy,” I muse.
“Sexy, I’d say.”
I let out a laugh, tracing the letter myself.
