Page 63 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

We’re rivals on two newly made hockey teams who will compete until they reach the top and face the Toronto Maple Leafs.

Then it’s the playoffs toward the Stanley Cup.

The pressure is on now that I’m officially assigned to a team. It makes a nervous bubble brew within me while the walls around me feel as though they’ll cave in any minute now.

Taking a few deep breaths doesn’t do much, while my hands hold my phone tightly in a grasp like a lifeline that can get me out of this state of uncertainty.

Closing my eyes, I stay completely still and continue breathing through my nose and out of my mouth. I do it repeatedly, trying to think happy thoughts and not the dark thoughts that creep in with all my worries and fears.

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a panic attack and even longer since I’ve been stuck in a crowded space that made me feel like my chest was going to explode. This reaction of nervousness makes no sense to me. I’m not in a crowded space, nor did the previous event push my nerves into overdrive.

Then again, sometimes you can’t put an explanation for why you feel overwhelmed and about to drown in a sea of anxiety.

There doesn’t need to be an answer. I just need to endure until there’s a way out of this.

The problem is my way out isn’t here.

The key that unlocks that door and helps me breathe again.

All I have to do is press a single number on my phone, and he’d be right here, but I can’t put myself through it.

He’s now the captain of a professional hockey team. He can’t just come to your aid.

Biting my lip, I fight hard not to cry and feel utterly helpless as I wish to the heavens my nerves would calm down, so I can go back to being Mikayla Cross Johnson and not a bundle of anxiety breaking down in an empty hallway like some fool.

I hate moments like these because it makes my anxiety so debilitating.

You can’t predict when things like these are going to strike, but here I was, the first day of my internship and borderline of having an unprovoked panic attack.

Marvelous.

The soft touch on my forehead suddenly makes me freeze.

Not because I realize I’m no longer alone, but the very touch follows with the most tender voice that chases all my nervousness away.

“Breathe, baby girl.”

Breathe.

Yes. I need to breathe.

I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath, but now that I have, it encourages me to inhale deeply. I also acknowledge how my lip trembles and tears are staining my cheeks.

Fuck.

Lips press against my forehead before I’m pulled into a bear hug that swallows me up. The smell of the familiar cologne of rich, musk goodness has me sighing in relief as I hug him back.

My shirtless Maddox.

Sometimes, I wonder how he knows when I’m in trouble. How he just shows up right when I’m desperate to have someone to lean on. This wasn’t a random occasion that just happened.

No.

Maddox always showed up when I needed someone to save me from drowning myself. Since the day we met, he just sensed when I needed him, and bam, there he was, ready to rescue me.

No questions asked.

When I pull back from the hug, I take a few deep breaths and sniff back more tears that spring to my eyes. My hands are shaking, my palms feeling cold, yet they’re sweaty, and my lip is still trembling. I can’t face Maddox as I look to see he’s still wearing his hockey gear.

---