Page 256 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
Freya: I hope you have a good night. Watching at home with Dad x
“She should have come,” Parker says when I show her the message. “It would have done her some good.”
I can’t argue with that. But also, I understand. She needs time to put everything behind her. I have every confidence she’ll find herself again.
“Please welcome your Vipers to the ice,” echoes around the arena. The crowd are on their feet, shouting and screaming, waving flags and banners as one by one, our players burst through a cloud of smoke and out onto the ice.
Fletch is first, then Linc, and then…
All the air rushes from my lungs the second I lock eyes on Kodie.
Fuck. I miss him.
It’s only been a couple of days, but everything feels wrong without him.
Sensing my reaction, Parker takes my hand, squeezing in support, as Kodie does a lap of the ice, his eyes locked on the first few rows of the crowd, searching for someone.
He’s looking for you.
He knows where you sit.
He wants?—
His eyes land on their target, and his face lights up as the little girl beside me screams, “Daddy,” at the top of her voice.
Kodie skates right up to the board and blows her a kiss.
All the women around us scream, pretending that was directed at them, despite knowing the truth.
Kodie only has eyes for his girl. And rightly so.
He backs away from the plexiglass and is about to turn around when he looks up.
My breath catches as his eyes find mine.
All happiness from seeing his daughter is instantly wiped away, replaced by irritation.
Ouch.
He holds my gaze for a few heart-wrenching seconds before his eyes lower. The second he sees my jersey, the muscle in his throat tightens, and his lips press into a thin line.
Parker’s grip on my hand tightens, and the side of my face burns. I don’t look around, but I can picture Kathleen glancing between us with a knowing, yet concerned, look.
His eyes might be hiding behind his visor, but it doesn’t mask the anger and the frustration.
I’m frozen as he glares at me. I need to look away, but I can’t.
Eventually, he has to move to get into position, and if anything, the moment he takes his eyes from me is worse than the glare.
A sob rips up my throat, and before I know what I’m doing, I rush past Parker and those next to her to get out.
Tears burn my eyes as what feels like a giant elastic band wraps around my chest.
I can’t breathe.
Thankfully, everyone moves out of my way quickly, and before I know it, I’m racing toward the bathroom as others still enter the arena a second before the game starts.
“Casey,” Parker calls from behind me as I rush inside, the door slamming back against the wall.
