Page 79 of Risking the Pucking Defense

There’s an eruption of cheers as everyone in the room agrees, and it barely dies down when Coach and his assistants join us. My knees bounce nervously as he talks through tonight’s game plan before sending us out there to warm up.

My unease only gets worse once I’m fully dressed and walking down the tunnel toward the ice.

Despite the stands being mostly empty, I can still hear the small crowd that’s gathered. It’ll mostly be women, thanks to the viral videos out there of us stretching. Live porn, my sister had helpfully informed me when I caught her watching one day.

I just rolled my eyes, shook my head, and continued with what I was doing. Who am I to stop anyone from enjoying the sport we all love?

I look around, searching for a familiar face. Parker, Darcy, and Jared are by the bench, ready for whatever we might need before puck drop. Our rinkside reporter is there with his cameraman, along with Brooke and her intern, ready to catch footage of us doing our thing.

I keep searching, but the person I want to see isn’t here.

Disappointed, I look up and directly at the seats I know my parents will be sitting in.

The second I see them, all the air rushes from my lungs.

Mom is pale, her hair flatter and duller than I’ve ever seen it, her eyes dark. I tell myself it’s from the travel, but I know it’s bullshit. Dad has lost even more weight than the last time I saw him. He’s looking gaunt and ill, and it makes my stomach knot painfully tight.

But as hard as it is to look at them, its’s the seat beside Mom that really fucking hurts.

A giant lump crawls up my throat, and tears burn my eyes.

She’s gone. And she’ll never watch another game again.

“Hey, man, what’s—” Killer’s words cut off as he follows the direction of my gaze and finds my parents. “Ah, sweet, your folks made it.”

He lifts his free hand and waves at them.

They both wave back, but even lifting their hands to do so looks painful.

They shouldn’t have come. It’s too much.

I regret ever asking them.

I give them a wave and force a smile before turning and stepping onto the ice.

You have a job to do, Hayden. Focus on that.

Do it for them.

Do it for her.

As we warm up, the seats around us begin to fill, but every time I glance at my parents, her seat is still empty.

I didn’t reserve it for her like I usually would. It fucking pained me not to.

I could have paid for it still and kept it empty, but that could stop another fan from coming. Okay, so maybe not to an exhibition game; they’re not usually sellouts. But there will be plenty as we move through the season.

Our time is nearly up, and still, I’m scanning everywhere for the one face I want to see.

We haven’t talked since the night of the ball.

I really wanted to stay up and keep talking to her. Messaging her was also the first thing I wanted to do when I woke up the next morning. But I stopped myself.

She may have replied, but that doesn’t override the fact she didn’t accept my invitation to leave. And the fact that she didn’t mention it, other than that I didn’t need to apologize, tells me that she’s confident she made the right decision.

It hurts. I thought we had a moment in that elevator, but maybe the bullshit excuse I made about it being the enclosed space is true for her. Maybe she started regretting it the second the doors opened. Maybe I was the only one craving more.

A whistle blows, and everyone begins heading off the ice. With a heavy sigh, I go with them.