Page 41 of Wilder Puck
I run a hand through my sweaty hair, the words sticking in my throat. “I think I fucked up, man. She came over one night and I asked her to cuddle.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You asked her to cuddle?”
I nod miserably, feeling like the world's biggest idiot.
Chase shrugs, his expression neutral. “Okay. And then what?”
“When I woke up, she was gone. Didn't hear from her all day. We were supposed to go for our usual run the next morning and she was a no-show.”
“Damn,” he mutters, wincing. “That's not good.”
“No kidding. If my dad suspected something was off before, I'm really in for it now.”
“Yeah, you were definitely off your game out there today. Coach is gonna sniff that out real quick. Have you tried talking to her?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “She's barely responding to my texts. I overstepped, crossed the line.”
Chase frowns thoughtfully. “Or maybe she's finally realizing she has feelings for you too and it spooked her.”
I scoff, shaking my head. “No way, man. Not a chance.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, you know her best. I'm just saying, this calls for an in-person conversation to clear the air.”
“I don't know,” I sigh, feeling the weight of the upcoming game pressing down on me. “Maybe I should just give her some space, let it blow over.”
Chase claps me on the shoulder as he skates past. “Like I said, you know her best. Do what feels right.”
I nod absently, watching him head off the ice. Once I'm alone, I take a few lazy laps around the rink, trying to clear my head. She texted me back last night, but she had a lame excuse. Chase's words echo in my ears. I do know Addie best, and that weird silent treatment isn't like her at all. She normally sends a quick text back, but she must be feeling out of place. As much as the idea of confronting her makes my stomach churn with anxiety, I know it's the right call.
Decision made, I finish up practice and head straight for Addie's place, my heart pounding against my ribs the whole drive over. I have no clue what I'm going to say, how I'm going to fix this, but maybe an apology is a good start.
I raise my hand and knock on her front door. I search my keyring for the spare key she gave me when she moved in here. Before I can chicken out, the door swings open and there she is, looking softer and more vulnerable than I've ever seen her.
“Hi,” she says with a smile, stepping back to let me in.
“Hi,” I mumble back, taking in the explosion of paperwork strewn across every surface. The couch, coffee table, and a few on the kitchen counter.
She walks over to it and sits in the middle of the piles. “Sorry about the mess. I just have some catching up to do. What are you up to?”
“Sorry to just drop by. I thought we should talk in person rather than a text message.”
She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, that's probably a good idea.”
I shuffle my feet awkwardly. “So, uh, I'm heading out tomorrow for the game against the Dodgers.”
“Right, of course. Um, do you need anything?”
My eyes land on hers, imagining that hockey stick underwear she wears. I silence my naughty thoughts as I shake my head. “No, but is there anything I can help with? With all this?”
She blinks, following my gaze. “Oh. Um, sure. You can sort that pile there by date.”
“Okay,” I say, grateful for something to occupy my hands. We work in silence for a few minutes before I can't take it anymore. I set the papers aside with a sigh.
“Addie, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other night. That's the last thing I would ever want.”
Her eyes snap to mine, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling. Slowly, she sets down her own stack of papers. “I'm sorry too, Ry. For not responding, avoiding, and for making things weird.”
Relief floods through me at her words. “Already forgiven and forgotten.”
