Page 65 of Let It Be Me
I skate over to Noah and pat him on the head a few times before skating over to Logan. While a lot of work hasn’t been done on this end, he’s still put in work when the action did make it over here.
With five minutes left to play, my line switches out. I grab for a water bottle as I sit on the bench. My helmet comes off and I watch the second line battle it out. Washington crosses center-ice on a three-man drive.
“Fuck,” Max says from next to me. We both stand up and hug the wall, chanting at our defense to hold strong and to not let them pass. Logan’s eyes never leave the puck. He expertly defends the net, but a scuffle causes him to lose the puck.
“Right, right, right,” I yell to no avail. When Logan spots the puck the buzzer is going off. I hear Logan’sfuckyelled across the ice as Washington celebrates back to their half of the ice.
Max, Noah, and I give each other a look before we’re switching out to hopefully come out of this game with a win.
“Can’t win em all guys.”Coach says in the middle of the locker room with his clipboard tucked under his arm and a furrow firmly on his brow. We went into overtime and it was like Washington had fresh legs on them. “Defensive skate tomorrow at ten and mandatory conditioning at two. I don’t care if it’s here or at a studio. Now, hit the showers.”
I beeline to my locker to my phone and open it up to text Mischa.
Me: Any openings for after two?
Mischa: At this moment, no. But I’ll let you know before your practice is done.
Me: Thank you.
I exit out of the conversation and to the one with Sarah.
Me: Showering and then headed up.
Blue: I’ll meet you at the locker room
Me:
I get undressed and to the showers with one goal in mind: getting home to my girls. Once I’m showered, I throw on a gray hoodie, some worn jeans that Sarah loves, and myblack Timberland boots. I decide to stop at Anderson’s office before heading out because his advice is the one that I desperately need.
“You have a second?”
“Just a few. Kylie pouted and stomped her foot, said we were watching a Christmas movie tonight so I need to get home.”
I move and sit down in front of his desk. “She learns that from Mischa.”
Jared throws a pen at me. “Get on with it or get out.”
“How did you know you loved Mischa?” I ask out-right. I never got the chance to ask him after our stretch of away games and now seems as good of a time as any other. Those three little words are closer and closer to being freed.
“Wow,” Jared says and leans back in his chair. I know he wants to tease me, but he must see the desperation on my face. He sobers up and leans forward and places his elbows on the desk. “We were dating for a little while by this point. Still casual because of football and volleyball. And it was after one of her games where she dominated at the net. I couldn’t take my eyes off her more than what was normal. Later that night we were at the student center, playing a game of pool. She beat me and I told her I loved her. I love her competitiveness, her fierce loyalty to those in her life, her hunger for more. I told her that night I was going to marry her because I wanted her competitiveness, loyalty, and hunger in my life for the rest of my days.”
“Sounds like she settled, then,” I joke because that was the most sentimental thing I’ve ever heard coach say. He throws another pen at me and I rise with my bag on my shoulder. “But in all seriousness, thank you. That helped a lot.”
“No problem. I’m proud of you, Riley. You’ve reallyturned it around this season, so I guess I should be thanking Sarah.”
I toss my hair back with an exaggerated flip. “Whatever, I’m the catch. Get home before Kylie screams your ear off.”
Jared checks his phone and smiles. “Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I walk back into the locker room and dodge a towel from Max before pushing out into the hallway. Sarah is tapping away on her phone, unaware of her surroundings. I shake my head on an exhale and creep over to her. With the sounds echoing throughout the hallway, it’s easy to do undetected. I gently wrap my hand around her neck and mash our lips together. I feel her moan against my hand and my tongue tangles with hers. Sarah slides a hand into the back pocket of my jeans and pulls me against her.
Outside of the locker room at the arena isn’t the place to do this. But when she rises on her toes to get closer, I realize I don’t care.
A shrill whistle causes Sarah to jump away from me. I look down at her puffy lips from my assault and her rosy hued cheeks and realize that what I feel for her is real. That it’s not a result from lust or endorphins. But this is real. I love her.
Only now I need to figure out when the best time to tell her would be.
And if she feels the same way.
