Apparently, I’m the kind of woman who melts from the knowledge that he thought about me before coffee.The butterflies lasted right up until I walked into his closet and saw the “few things” he had laid out.A designer carry-on, with matching luggage, is the first thing I see, then my eyes track to a stack of outfits, sleek, expensive, and obviously new.I scan through the stack and see a few dresses that were definitely meant for someone glossier, camera-ready.They don't look like anything I have ever worn before.And a whole pile of Kodiaks-branded stuff: fitted jacket, cropped hoodie, leggings with the team logo down the thigh.
They were beautiful.Thoughtful.
But… not me.
I stood there barefoot in one of Nate’s old t-shirts, holding up a silky black dress that looked like something Brielle once wore in a game-day photo, thin straps, plunging neckline, the whole thing screaming “Look at me.”Not that I would ever admit to him that when the noise had gotten too loud, and people were comparing us, I googled them with a bottle of wine.My stomach dipped, and I fucking hated that it did.Because he wasn’t trying to change me, I knew that.He was trying to include me.To give me things he thought would make me comfortable in his world.
I stand staring for far too long at the pile of clothes.
“I’m being ridiculous,” I muttered to myself.
I chose the soft blue sundress, the only one that felt like I could breathe in it, and tossed all the other items into the suitcase, pushing my anxiety away.
This is the first away game I ever attended and the only one I had gone to on my own.The flight was quick, and the city was buzzing the moment I stepped outside.Everything taller, louder, manic compared to my quiet valley back home.
I had just enough time to drop my things off at the hotel and change into some of the Kodiak's gear that Nate left me.I decided on a pair of my favourite jeans, the cropped hoodie with his number, the team jacket, and a branded beanie.
The arena felt enormous.
Security directs fans with clipped voices.
A man in a Kodiak's gear met me at the gate.Nate had asked me to go there to get my ticket, but I didn't expect a guide.Screens everywhere are broadcasting pre-game hype.
My skin crawls as people stare at me, some whisper behind their hands, and a few lift their phones with no consideration to how I would feel about it.
The man told me that Nate wanted me brought down to the team bench so he could see me before the game, and then I would be brought up to the box with management.I asked him if that was normal, and his"Sure."response left me anxious.
It was overwhelming enough that I didn’t notice the opposing team's winger until he leaned across the boards during warm-ups, tapping his stick toward me with a grin.“Damn, Carson scored big,” he laughed.“If all PR plays looked like you, I’d fuck up on purpose.”
I froze mid-step, as heat shot up my neck.“I...sorry.What?”
He winked.“Relax, sweetheart.It’s a compliment.”
Before I could respond, Nate glided over, jaw tight, eyes dark.“Get lost, Keiran.”
The player smirked but backed off.“Touchy, Captain.I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.Maybe get some of what you got going on.”
“She’sMine,” Nate snapped.
The guy skated away before I could react.Nate looked at me, softer now, "Sorry about that, Tessa.He's an asshole.Ignore him.He’s just jealous."
I nodded, but my heart was still stuttering.
Jealous of what?
Of who I was to Nate?Or jealous of the attention my presence here drew for the opposing team?I tucked the question away.Nate gave me a smile that made my core clench and asked for a good-luck kiss before the game.I took those last few steps to the boards, and Nate pulled me into a passionate kiss that had his teammates catcalling us from the ice.
When I pulled away, embarrassed by the attention, I caught a strange look on Reeves' face, and then my eyes tracked to the player, Keiran, who had a smirk on his face and then, like he wanted me to see it, he looked up at the screen where the kiss was playing for the entire arena to witness.
I asked Nate about it after the game, and Nate kissed my forehead and said, “Keiran wanted to be drafted to the Kodiaks a while back.He's always been jealous of what I have and probably wishes he had a girlfriend who looked like you.”
The way he said it felt true.But something in me still hummed with unease.
The next day, we played tourists.The team had the day off, and Nate wanted to make the most of it and spend some time together.I walked out of the bathroom to him standing by the bed, baseball cap low, hoodie pulled up, and that smile that makes everything inside me soften.
He never let go of my hand, kept pulling me into him for kisses, like he couldn't get enough of me.Being with him felt so natural, perfect.He walked me through the historic district, talking to me about some of his favourite things to do when he is on the road.We found a little café with outdoor seating and ate breakfast while fans tried to pretend they weren’t taking photos of him.
We went to a museum.A lookout tower.A bookstore where he bought me a ranch romance novel, saying, “It reminds me of your truck, your boots, and you,” and then tossed in a hockey romance, saying, "And this is for when you miss me."
