Page 80 of Face Off
Brooks breaks our kiss, allowing us to catch our breaths as our chests rise and fall in sync. My hands move to the buttons of his dress shirt, moving too quickly to unbutton them, but he grabs my wrist, stopping my attempts altogether. Pressing his forehead to mine, he takes a deep breath, steadying his racing heart as my frustration and need for him build.
“Brooks.”
“Red…” His voice is strained with want and need. “I want you. I need this as much as you right now, but I want it when I win the Cup for us tonight.”
I drop my chin to my chest as his warm lips press against my forehead. “Brooks, I…” My voice comes out laced with slight disappointment as the sound of Cassidy’s voice echoes from the other side of my office door.
He pulls me close to him, before dipping his finger under my chin, tilting my head so my eyes meet his. “I’ll see you after the game, Red. Hopefully, we’ll be celebrating then.” Yeah, hopefully.
He places a chaste kiss to my lips before moving to the office door and unlocking it.
“Cassidy,” I call out as I make my way to my desk and plop down in my chair.
“Oh, you look like you did the night of your twenty-first birthday,” she says, rounding my desk, holding out the little trash can I keep in the corner adjacent to me. “Why do you look like you’re about to hurl all over your desk?”
“Ha-ha,” I say, pushing away the trash can.
She’s right though. I feel like I did on my twenty-first birthday. The amount of tequila consumed that night—yeah, I still get nauseous just thinking about it. But my greenish pale expression has nothing to do with tequila.
My world is about to implode—again.
Brooks. Boyce. Camden. My parents. Years’ worth of secrets are about to be exposed with one simple win. A win we all should be reeling about, yet I’m terrified by it all.
“I need to know that you’ll have my back, no matter what happens tonight.”
Her brows furrow as she cocks her head to the side in confusion. “Why would you need me to have your back? I mean you know I will because pre-k friendship never dies, but why?”
“Because I fucked up, okay,” I say, pushing myself to stand. I wring my hands in front of me as I pace the room. “You told me, my father told me, and yet I didn’t listen.”
“Told you. Oh… you mean to tell me you still haven’t told Brooks—” Her voice trails off as I continue to pace the room. Pretty sure I’m wearing a hole in the floor but who fucking cares anymore. My world’s about to shatter again, and I have officially run out of time.
“I’m—” I stop pacing and drop my head, tears burn at the back of my eyes. “I’m gonna lose him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that,” I say, wiping at the stray tear rolling down my cheek. “He has a thing with lying and secrets. It’s why we had time apart the first time,” I say, throwing my hands in the air, exasperated by everything. “God, for once, I just want life to not be like this. The secrets, the deception. Why couldn’t I just come out and tell him everything when I talked about Boyce.”
Cassidy’s mouth opens and closes a few times as if she’s speechless. Heck, I’m even speechless now. I don’t have a clue what to do. No idea what to say. This is my problem. One of many I seem to always create for myself.
A knock on the door pulls me from my mental breakdown. It’s now or never. It’s too late to correct the mistakes. I can only embrace them now and accept them for what they are. Put my heart on the line. Regardless of heartbreak or not.
???
The team lines up in the tunnel, ready to take the ice, the bass thrumming throughout the jam-packed stadium. The lights lower as the intros begin, and the crowd roars with excitement, ready for the team to bring home the Cup. This is what we’ve worked for all season, what they’ve busted their asses for, and it all comes down to this moment.
One by one, the team takes the ice, fist bumping the staff on the way out of the tunnel as the game time horn blows. Brooks rounds up the rear. Stopping in front of me, he winks and wraps his gloved hand around my waist. Pulling me close he drops his mouth to mine, kissing the shit out of me as if it’s the last time. It very well may be. The camera crew zooms in on us before he breaks our kiss, pulling back and skating onto the ice.
Skating to center ice, he joins the team as they play the national anthem. The crowd breaks out in cheers as the teams skate to their respectable benches before taking their place on the ice for the puck drop. Brooks skates to the line, across from Boyce who’s eyeing him up as if he just kicked his dog. Boyce snarls something at Brooks as he gets ready, avoiding whatever he said in an attempt to egg him on.
If there was a time I wish I were an expert at reading lips, it would be now.
The ref drops the puck, and Halloway wins it, sending it back to Denizen. Denizen skates through the neutral zone, dribbling the puck before dumping it down the ice in Heat territory. Brooks is the first one to make contact with the puck but is slammed into the boards by Boyce. They fight it out, Brooks successful gains control of the puck, sending to Polston who winds up and takes a shot on goal. The Heat goaltender isn’t quick enough to block the shot as the puck flies over his shoulder, hitting the back of the net and lighting up the goal lamp.
The arena erupts in cheers as the Skipjacks take the lead. But it doesn’t last long. The lines change and in a matter of minutes, the Heat retaliate and score a goal. The bench is loud as groans of detest bellow out. Stick smacking against the boards in an attempt to keep the momentum going.
The game clock ticks down, the buzzer signaling the end of the first period. I follow the team into the locker room where Coach begins to strategize. We have the upper hand, but the Heat is on there A game today. Every time we score, they answer with one as well.
I search the room for Brooks and when I find him, his gaze is locked with mine. His fists are at his side, white knuckled. I slowly make my way over to his bench and pop a squat next to him. I place my hand on top his fist, and he instantly relaxes. Coach finishes, and the team breaks off, some for intermission interviews, others to prep for the next period, but Brooks stays seated. Relaxed at my touch.
