Page 52 of Shutout
The cup I’m washing slips from my hands. I fumble but it still falls. At least it’s plastic and doesn’t break.
Slowly, I turn to her. “Why?”
“Because you could get hurt,” Olivia says with a soft voice. Sighing, she says, “I’ve never told you why I hate hockey, right?” She sets the drying rag down and looks up at me, biting her lip.
“No.” I swallow hard. We’ve skirted around this topic all our lives, because I think I’ve always known why.
“I can’t…” She cuts herself off to shake her head. “I can’t see what happened to Luz again. And every important guy in my life seems bent on getting hurt playing the most reckless sport in the world.” Her chin trembles.
I shut the water tap and stand there for all of one second. That’s as much as I can resist.
In the blink of an eye, I breach the distance and wrap my arms around her. Liv stiffens and takes a deep breath, her nose buried in my chest. And then she shifts to settle her cheek on my chest, and I follow suit by resting mine on top of her head. Closing my eyes, I inhale the scent of her hair, holding her a little tighter.
Slowly, she lifts her arms until they circle my waist. I thought everything was perfect earlier, while we sat together eating pizza. But I was wrong.Thisis perfection.
“Liv.” I sigh her name and then, to mask the longing in it, Itry for levity. “I’m going to be okay. You know I’m the lovechild between Wolverine and Deadpool.”
Her voice is muffled as she mutters, “Your bones aren’t made of adamantium and you can’t infinitely heal yourself.”
“I’m strong as an ox.”
“But you’re not an ox.”
“My point is, I’m going to be fine. So are Aran and Max. What happened to Luz…” I squeeze her tighter. “That was a freak accident. A one in a million thing.”
“That’s already too many chances.” Her hands squeeze at the back of my shirt with more force. “Every time one of you is playing, all my head does is spin one horriblewhat ifafter the other.”
I pull away just enough for her to look up at me. My heart pangs as she sets her chin against my chest, and I rub a hand up and down her back to distract myself from the fact that I’m yearning for her even though she’s in my arms, as close as our clothes allow.
“And yet you, yourself, said I’m a really good player, right? So you should know that I’m trained on how to protect myself, on how technique can keep me safe and healthy, and that there’s a whole staff that will look out for me even if I get a paper cut.”
“But you wouldn’t get a paper cut during a game.” She gulps hard. “You could get seriously hurt instead. Did you see what happened to?—”
I brush the hair off her face, leaving my fingers in her hair. “Liv, this is literally the only thing I know how to do. The only thing that makes me feel alive.” Besides her, that is.
“And what if it kills you?”
“It won’t.” I smile at her frown.
“But what if?—”
“It won’t,” I repeat more firmly. “We’re going to manifestgood things and not tragedies, okay? Besides, what would kill me would be to not play.”
More subdued, she starts pulling away from my embrace and I have no choice but to let her go. Unless I want to steer the conversation to even more dangerous waters.
“But you’re going to retire eventually, what then?”
“That’s hopefully twenty years down the line, after I’ve given it my all and squeezed as much hockey out of life as I can.” I switch the water tap back on to finish the last dishes. “Besides, I could coach a little league after that. Or maybe join a team’s staff.”
“You could become an anchorman.”
“Would you like that better?” She gives me a weird look that makes me worry I let on too much about how I want her in my life twenty years from now—and beyond. So I rephrase, “As in, would that feel safer to you?”
“Yes, a lot. I’m sure your future wife would appreciate it too.”
I choke. She definitely picked up on my train of thought. “W-What?”
“Or maybe she’d be just as reckless, going by Luz and Maddie. I don’t think anyone sensible would marry a hockey player.” Liv makes a face. “Couldn’t be me.”
