Page 151 of The Fine Line
I shrug. “I’m Caroline.”
He nods. “Well, Caroline—we’re live in eleven minutes. And it seems you’re the only option I’ve got. Whether you’re the best? I guess we’ll find out. Grab a headset. Let’s get you and Tom on the same page.
thirty-four
RHETT
“We’ve got to get on the same page here, boys. I know you’re giving your all, but I need you to give me even more.”
I’m the last one into the locker room, just as Bear starts his intermission speech. The first period against Detroit is over.
Fucking Detroit. Every year they find a way to be a thorn in our side.
I rip off my helmet and swipe a towel from the equipment cart, dragging it over my face as I take my place at the front beside Bear.
“We’ve been here before,” he goes on. “We know their game. But they also know ours. We need to switch it up. Control the pace. Quick transitions, stretch passes?—”
His voice starts to blur around the edges, fading into white noise. I can feel the sweat cooling on my skin, my heartbeat slowing, but my head is still racing.
We’re playing hard. I know that. We had what—fifteen, sixteen shots on goal in that period? But nothing to show for it. Detroit’s giving us hell. And even though I’ve logged moreminutes than anyone out there, I feel like I’m skating in circles, chasing shadows. Like I’m around the game instead of in it.
I’m in my own way.
And yeah, I know exactly when that started.
Right before puck drop. Right before stepping onto the ice. When I looked up and saw her.
Caroline.
God.
I bury my face in the towel, but it’s useless. I can’t wipe away the image of her standing there—fitted blazer, my last name pinned to her chest—like she hadn’t already undone me just by being in the same building.
God, I miss her.
I fucking live with her, and I miss her.
We’ve barely talked. Shared space, sure. Shared air. But our conversations have shrunk to nods and passing glances. Nothing has been the same since that night. I mean, how could it be?
I’ve replayed that night more times than I can count. I remember every look, every word, every time I told myself to walk away when all I wanted to do was stay. I’ve questioned myself a thousand times—what the hell I was thinking, denying Caroline Barrett after wanting her for so long.
But every time I come back to the same conclusion:
I didn’t want just a night.
I wanted every night.
And all the days too.
But it looks like my determination to do right by her has backfired. Because with where we’ve landed—I’m not sure I have her at all anymore.
I can tell Bear’s speech is winding down, which means he’s about to ask me if I have anything to add. I know I have to say something. It’s my job to say something. Anything.
But the only thing on my mind is her.
“Rhett, anything to add?”
I nod, trying to muster something halfway competent. “Uh… yeah. Good job out there so far, guys. We’re shooting like crazy. We just need to find the back of the net.”
