Page 138 of Blindside Me
I tune it all out. One foot, then the other.
I’m not running. I’m choosing.
The crowd parts like I’m part of the show. The security guards at the tunnel exchange glances before stepping aside. One nods. They already know who I am. I guess I’ve been expected.
The tunnel swallows me into the shadows. My eyes adjust to find Drew pacing in full gear, helmet off, hands raking through already-wrecked hair. He looks like he’s about to throw up or sprint onto the ice and pretend this never happened.
Then he sees me. And he stops. Like I’ve pressed pause on his entire world.
“Hey,” he says. Just that.
But it’s his voice that gets me. It’s rough and uncertain.
He just confessed his love in front of scouts, coaches, and an entire fan section, and now he’s nervous aboutme.
It’s so perfectly, absurdly Drew that something breaks loose in my chest. All the fear, all the hurt, and all the uncertainty dissolving into nothing.
I walk the last five steps and kiss him.
No hesitation. No speech. Just lips on lips and hands gripping his jersey because I need tofeelthat this is real.
He’s cold and warm all at once. Still. Then moving. Then wrapping his arms around me like I’m something he doesn’t ever want to let go of again.
When I pull back, his eyes are wide, searching mine for confirmation that this is real.
“You’re still an idiot,” I whisper, unable to keep the smile from my voice.
His grin splits wide. “But your idiot?”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “But don’t get cocky. That stunt bought you one point. You’ve got three more to go.”
“I’ve got a list,” he says, eyes dancing. “Number two involves your uncle.”
Before I can ask, a familiar shout echoes from deep in the tunnel.
“Klaas! You’ve got ten seconds to get your ass back to the lockers before I bench you for the rest of the damn season!”
Drew winces. “That’s item three, actually.”
I laugh and shove his chest. “Go. Before he storms out here and murders you.”
He backs away, but not before gripping my hand. “Are we good?”
I meet his gaze, steady and open.
“Yeah. We’re good,” I say softly. “But don’t stop fighting.”
He nods and squeezes my hand before releasing it. “I’ll find you after.”
“You better,” I call after him as he jogs down the tunnel.
I linger in the shadows, calm nowhere in sight, my lips tingling from his kiss.
The overhead lights of the arena spill back into the hallway. The crowd is murmuring again, half buzz, half disbelief. But I don’t care.
Let them stare.
Let them whisper about the girl who brought one of the team’s top players to his knees.
