Page 28 of My Virgin Puck

- CHAPTER ELEVEN -

Mason

I’m pacing back and forth. My palms sweaty and my hair a fucking mess. I can’t stop running my hands through it and my beard is acting as a tension relief with every anxious tug I wrench it with.

The boys finished the job. Four goals to none. That’s payback enough for yesterday’s dreadful performance. Toronto can fuck off right back to where they belong knowing they got lucky by snapping our winning streak.

It’s bitter-sweet. A win is a win. Vancouver beating Toronto means something to this entire city, and even more to the Viking’s team. I can picture the celebrations in the locker room as I pace around the empty room, all alone.

My days as a Viking are over.

Coach Best confirmed I wouldn’t make another appearance for the team this morning. I rocked up to the arena, dressed and ready to make up for my mediocre performance yesterday.

It was all cut short. I didn’t even make the bench and was told to disappear.

That’s the brutality of the business. One minute, you’re a star player with fans grabbing at you as you enter the arena. The next, you’re driving home all alone, forgotten as the team skate to a rebound victory like no other.

Fate’s a funny thing though.

I left the arena, confused. Scared… Uncertain. Hockey has been my life since I was a boy.

Then I settled in my chair at home, grabbed the newspaper and flipped through the pages. Popping out from the bottom corner of the sports section – an old, deserted restaurant in need of a new owner.

I look around the dark dining room, unable to stop checking the front door every few seconds. She’ll be here soon. It’s dusty and old. The floorboards have seen better days. The kitchen isn’t any better. The ovens will need replacing and gas lines fixed up.

But it’s mine.

My own restaurant.

My hockey dream might be over, but the next phase of my life is starting right here with the woman who’s bursting through the front door and racing across to me.

“Mason!” Madi’s ruby red hair smothers my face as she leaps into my arms. Her sweet scent fills my body with bubbly tingles and she’s wrapping me so tight all air escapes my lungs. “Oh my god! Where have you been? Why didn’t you write back? Or call!”

Madi smacks my chest with more force than I expected. Her eyes are sharp and dangerous, the deep brown searing into me with a dark glare. Her mouth is tight, her lips stiff and twitching, awaiting my reply.

“I couldn’t, sweetheart,” I say, pulling Madi in my arms. Heat wraps around my body and I instantly feel Madi relax, her body sinking against mine. “I couldn’t. We had everything confiscated after the game yesterday.”

“Confiscated? Like a fucking child?”

I scoff a laugh and glide a hand over Madi’s cheek. “Yeah, something like that.”

Madi examines me for a moment. She reminds me of a tiny jack in the box, all innocent and cute until she’s unleashed. Her cheeks are so flushed I can feel the heat radiating off her. Black smears of mascara are dried up in a trail down her face. She’s been crying and I know it’s all my fault.

I run a finger along the path in an attempt to rid her of the pain she’s been feeling.

“I’m sorry,” I say, leaning down to kiss her soft cheek. “I tried to get in touch with you at the gift shop, but the phone just kept ringing out.”

Madi rolls her eyes. “It was fucking ridiculous. Do these hockey fans realise the gift shop is always open?”

“Apparently not,” I hum.

Madi shakes her head and spins to take in the dark room. Slowly, she steps around, her gaze searching across the empty tables stacked in one corner. The piles of old wooden chairs and plastic milk crates are blocking the hallway leading to the toilets. The serving area is to one side, and the brightness of the dingy, rundown kitchen makes Madi squint.

“So what is this place? Why are you here?”

My cheeks blow out.

It’s still raw. It’s fresh. Hearing those words was a blow.

---