Page 38 of Rise Above

Following her lead, I dug into my food. Food was a

happy place for me. So much so, I had learned to cook so I could make my own delicious meals. Plus, it allowed me to have a hobby outside of hockey. There was nothing quite like perfecting a really difficult dish… well, outside of a perfect slapshot.

When we were done eating, I started to nurse my

coffee. Mornings were usually rough for me, but caffeine made it better. I peered over my cup at Aife. She had a gentle smile on her face as she polished off her bagel and fruit cup. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin and then leaned on her arm.

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“How’s the tongue?”

“Definitely better,” I said softly. “Such a dumb

injury.”

“It’s really not the worst injury though, right?”

“Sure, not the worst. But, you’ve got to admit it’s

truly a dumb way to hurt yourself.” I rolled my eyes. “Trust me, I’ve had worse. This one is just embarrassing. Do you hear this lisp?”

“It’s not that bad of a lisp.” Aife giggled. “If it

makes you feel better, I broke my thumb in a one car garage while in a mosh pit.”

She said it so casually, but there was so much to

unpack in that statement. Where did I start? What was the thing I wanted to know the most? I leaned forward, palming my coffee cup.

“Yeah, you’re going to need to expand on that

comment.” I took a sip of my coffee, avoiding the left part of my tongue. The heat burned the bit area, but caffeine was a must.

“Back in my junior/senior year of college, my best

friend invited me to a concert. Mind you, I was a little skeptical when she said it was in a garage. We were under the impression that it was a punk rock show. Turns out it was death metal.” Aife nodded nonchalantly. “That was the day I learned to always have fists while in the pits.”

Quirking an eyebrow at her, I took in her words. I

wanted to keep asking questions. Talking wasn’t really my thing, but Aife seemed to bring it out in me. “You mosh

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frequently?” I leaned back in the chair, finishing up the last of my coffee.

She pointed at a skull with wings on her arm, a clear

Deathbat tattoo. “I like metal.” She shrugged after her statement, a pink hue hitting her cheeks. The flush highlighted her freckles, and I couldn’t help the stare.

“Apparently enough to tattoo Avenged Sevenfold

on you.” A small laugh escaped me. I pushed up my shirt to reveal my Slipknot tattoo. “I also like metal.”

Her beautiful smile lit up her face. “I see that.