Page 53 of The Chemistry Coach
“Damn darlin’, your grip hasn’t changed.”
“Nope, it hasn’t.”Ignoring the shocked expressions of every person in the room, Daisy steered Patrick to the door by his shoulders.“It’s time for you to go warm up.”
He twisted in her grip, crushed her in a hug, and kissed the top of her head.He whispered, “You better plan on a late night because your boyfriend is going to pummel me.”
Patrick fed the fire, building the drama, stoking Connor’s temper.She’d seen him do it dozens of times before, but she’d never been so annoyed about it.“If you throw the first punch or make him bleed, you’ll have to answer to me, so I suggest you watch yourself.And your wife can’t save you, Sophia will take my side.”
He pulled away and grinned at her.Louder, so the whole room could hear, he said, “I’ll see you after the game.”She shoved the strap of his bag at him and continued pushing him toward the door.When she had him on the threshold, he shouted, “Love you!”
“I love you, too.Now get the fuck out.”
When she faced the team, their faces were a mix of shock, disgust, and sadness.Except Novikov and Reese who were both smirking.Scanning the room confirmed the Connors had left while she dealt with Patrick.She covered her face with her hands and groaned.
“I royally fucked that up, huh?”
The group overwhelmingly agreed with her.
Daisy didn’t get to attend many hockey games because tickets were ridiculously priced.If she did get to a game, she got nosebleed tickets with Roxie, or she had to plan her finances around the expense.Whenever Patrick came to town, though, he got her and Grayson the best tickets in the house.Most people believed the best seats were right on the glass, but the ideal view was center ice, up about twenty rows.That way the penalty boxes, benches, and glass didn’t obstruct the view.
That year, the schedule worked out so that Patrick’s team would be playing Seattle twice in one week.She was exhausted thinking about how busy her schedule would be.Going to practices, then the game, then dinner with Grayson and Patrick at their favorite 24-hour diner, then spending the next day with Patrick.After that would be the day of reckoning, where she had another activity scheduled with the Connors.And then another game the following day.
She’d wait to explain and apologize during her next event with the Connors.Doing it over text would cause more problems.
She tried to put the disastrous morning out of her mind as she got ready.The familiar routine of doing her hair and makeup for Patrick’s game soothed her.Hockey players were superstitious.So were their fans and loved ones.She’d been wearing her hair and makeup the same way to every game she attended since they were in high school.Her hair was straight and half up with a bow in Patrick’s team colors.Winged eyeliner, glitter in team colors high on her cheekbones, and Patrick’s number painted on her right cheek.At seventeen it had been cute.At twenty-eight she felt a little deranged, but she stuck with the routine for good luck.
She slipped on leggings and rummaged in her closet for the pristine San Jose jersey she brought out twice a year.She paired it with a matching sweatshirt to wear underneath.Daisy evaluated the outfit, feeling off.She never hesitated to flip sides for Patrick.Usually, the outfit felt like slipping into a familiar hug, but that day it felt like an essential piece was missing.She swapped out the San Jose sweatshirt for a Seattle Freeze sweatshirt, then layered Patrick’s jersey over the top.Nobody would notice.Something was still missing.Compelled to represent the Connors, she shoved up her sleeves and with a liquid eyeliner pen wrote the numbers 67, 49, and 3 in a row on the inside of her left wrist.She let the pen dry and then doused it in setting spray, ensuring it wouldn’t smudge before sliding her sleeves down.
Grayson picked her up and smiled at her outfit as she got into his car.“I see we’re going with tradition tonight.”
“Always!It’s good luck.”
Grayson and Daisy were close.They spent time together regularly, texted each other daily, and he was her rock.But he wasn’t a talker.When they slipped into comfortable silence for the ride, she relaxed, in the clear of any probing questions.But as they headed into the arena, he said, “I wasn’t sure you’d do the same ol’ thing for this game.”
She frowned at him.“Why wouldn’t I stick to tradition?”
“You’ve been spending time with the Connor line, and I know how things are with the podcast.Roxie mentioned some things to me.And Patrick texted me this morning that he found you consorting with the enemy.Says he got them riled real good for tonight.Seemed weird they both checked in with me about your relationship with the Freeze, and you haven’t said a word.”
Fucking Roxie and Patrick.Those two gossips couldn’t keep their mouths shut.She groaned.“The plan for tonight is the same as usual.I’m wearing my lucky outfit.We’re going to go to warmups so Patrick can see my face.Then we’re going to use the restroom and buy two of the house special canned beers each so we don’t have to leave our seats for the entirety of the game.We’re meeting Patrick after the game and taking him to the diner.”
“And you have nothing to share with the class?”
“Grayson, I love you, but you’re being nosy.I’ll tell you everything when I figure it out, but right now it’s a giant mess.I owe three wonderful men a serious explanation as to why I blindsided them this morning before I do anything else.”
“So it’s about all the Connors then?You guys are friends?”
“Yes, I have been informed we’re all friends.”
“And this has nothing to do with your decade-old crush on Beanie?”
Daisy sighed.“This has everything to do with my crush on Connor.”
They descended the stairs into the bowl of the arena and lined up at the glass on the visiting team end as warmup music started.San Jose took the ice first, and she watched them do their warmup laps.Patrick hadn’t changed his warmup routine in years.He skated around his half of the ice twice, took a few shots on the net, and then moved to the side of the ice to stretch.Warmups were one trivial thing that had driven a nail in the coffin of their relationship.Watching Connor warm up was a sexual experience for Daisy.Watching Patrick?Nothing.Fondness, maybe.But butterflies?Not a flutter.
When he finished the motions she’d seen him go through a million times before, he went to the bench, grabbed a puck, wrote on it, then scanned the glass for her.He gave her his signature cocky grin and skated right to her, tossing the puck over the glass.This was her favorite tradition.For each game he wrote a little note in silver pen on a puck for her.She had them displayed on her bookshelves.Sometimes they said ‘Love you’ or ‘Winning tonight’ and sometimes they were a little smiley face or other drawing.She read what he’d scribbled.‘Daisy loves Connor.’Her face grew hot, and when she met Patrick’s eyes, he stuck his tongue out at her.If the glass hadn’t been there, she’d have thrown the puck at him, but she settled for flipping him off.He laughed and skated away.
Grayson asked, “What does it say tonight?”She handed him the puck, and he laughed.
“Yeah, it’s very funny,” she deadpanned.“Can we go get some beer now?”
