Page 37 of Hearts Held
Kenneth places a hand on either hip. “Why would we need nurses here?” he asks in an irritated fashion as the other men begin to approach us.
“Probably because we needed stitches the last time we played!” a gentleman with white-blond hair states, presumably another Afton brother. He has stark features and golden eyes like Everett. “The name’s Gregory, how do ya do, miss?” Gregory extends one hand out, but before I can reach to return the welcoming gesture, Everett places his hand atop Gregory’s, lowering it back to his side.
“Don’t touch her,” Everett bluntly orders.
My eyes widen as my hands clasptogether.
“Seriously, brother?” Gregory’s eyes lower in an unamused stare.
“Very,” Everett states as he continues placing cushioned white pads on his elbows. Then he reaches inside his duffel bag to obtain what appears to be a green-and-gray wool scarf. Everett drapes the scarf around my neck. “It’s cold out here. If you need more warmth, grab my coat.” He then points to his tweed coat atop his duffel bag, then sets off onto the ice with the other gentlemen.
“Men!” Everett shouts, gaining their attention. “Today we celebrate Dougie’s commitment to the Adders.”
Everyone cheers, thrusting their hockey sticks into the air.
Each team has a group of six individuals, all wearing elbow and knees pads. Opposite sides of the ice hold football goalposts with a man standing on the inside of each, presumably the goalies.
Tilly approaches my side. “Well, well, well. Looks like someone fanciesyou.” She takes two fingers and dances them up my upper arm.
“Oh, he is just playing games with me,” I reply.
Then Tilly crosses her arms. “Then play back!”
Her words send some sort of irritation down my spine. “Tilly, they are all playing with us. They could have any woman in town and have decided to mess around with our emotions. This is why I focus on work and stay in my own lane, instead of going outside my comfort zone.”
She tsks at me. “You mean not living. You have chosen not to live, and instead drown yourself in work and focus on ungrateful bosses and patients to keep your mind busy and block out any thoughts bothering you. When you receive the smallest amount of endearment, you become repulsed by the kindness and take it to be a cynical gesture.”
“Men always have ulterior motives, Tilly, they can’t be—”
Before I can finish my statement, Tilly interrupts me. “What, Brielle? Trusted? They can’t be trusted? Yet you started working for them. You got into the vehicle with them. So help me make sense of your brain—or instead, swallow your words and allow life to let you live a little please. I’m begging you, for my sake.” Tilly stares me down with her gorgeous blue eyes, her curly blond bob gleaming in the castedsunlight.
I cast my eyes on the ground, digesting the words she has given me.
“Brielle, I’m not trying to be a hard-ass on you. Clearly you have been through something. I’m not going to pry, but you can either continue to stare at the past and let it consume you, or you can approach the future with open arms. You may get hurt, you may have fun, or you may find new, wonderful things. It is your decision to choose what you want to do.”
Peering up at her, I find her studying the hockey game. Her eyes are following Bobby, a small smirk adorning her gorgeous face.
Tilly’s words settle within my mind as I find Everett chasing a small circular black object on the ice.
What would it hurt to live a little?
To accept the attention from Everett?
Though the probability of getting hurt would be high, Everett doesn’t appear to be like any of the men I’ve met in my life before. One dire fact still remains the same: he is a gangster and a fallout could be inevitable.
We continue to watch the men play for two periods. They fly back and forth upon the ice, chasing after thetiny black puck. During the final period, tempers begin to rise, as they were tied going into it.
Biscuit surprisingly makes the latest goal, then skates past Bobby while placing his thumb against his nose, wiggling his fingers in a mocking fashion while sticking out his tongue.
Bobby responds to Biscuit with a vulgar gesture as the men from Biscuit’s team laugh.
Among those members is Everett, who is staring straight at me.
“Goodness.” Tilly nudges her elbow into my arm. “The way he is looking at you could melt the ice, deary!” She gives a chuckle then sits down on the bench next to me.
He skates towards the center of the pond, facing off with Bobby for the beginning of the next period.
As the referee tosses the puck between the men, his whistle resonates across the park.
