I hop over the bench onto the ice for my first shift in the third. Matt steals the puck, and I book it toward the opposing goal. His pass connects with my stick in the neutral zone.
If we move quickly, Halo and I will have an odd-man rush, since only one defender stands between us and the goalie.
As soon as I cross the blue line into our O-zone, I zip the puck across the ice to Halo. He winds up for a one-timer, and—
FINLEY
The guy I met two years ago at my brother’s wedding is lying unconscious in the bedroom next to mine. He's partially obscured by a half-closed door while my brother, Matt, and his wife, Gemma, settle him into bed.
I suspected he played on my brother’s hockey team when we met, but I did everything I could to avoid confirming it.
I never thought I’d see him again.
“Is everything okay?” I push the door further open. I stayed home with my niece, Elodie, so Gemma could enjoy a girls’ night at the Palmer City Wolves game. It wasn’t a sacrifice; after alifetime of hockey, thanks to my family, I rarely watch it. And I love spending time with my niece.
Their heads whip in my direction, opening a better line of sight to the bed. Zach’s face sports an array of bruises. I hurriedly scan the rest of him, searching for any sign of injury.Holy hell. He’s changed since I last saw him, now sporting a toned abdomen and muscular, powerful legs. He’s not overly built—that turns me off—but he’s found a weight room since our hookup. I heave a sigh of relief when I don’t find a scratch on him. If it weren’t for the bruises, I’d assume he was asleep.
My stomach sinks at their expressions, Matt’s pinched forehead and the absence of a smile on Gemma’s face. Something bad happened tonight.
Matt sighs in exasperation. “Finley, what are you still doing up?”
I suppress an urge to roll my eyes. My brother doesn’t treat me like a twenty-one-year-old adult, and our nine-year age gap means our dynamic won’t change. My bipolar disorder diagnosis sent my already protective brother into overbearing territory.
“Watching TV.” Like every other night since I moved in with them two months ago, when my parents finally allowed me to attend college out of state.
I’m in the middle of watching a long-awaited love confession between two characters I’ve shipped for two seasons. How can I possibly sleep before their story ends? I’ll pay for it tomorrow when I get up early to train, but it’s worth it.
I walk into the room. “Is he okay?” I hope my brother can’t hear the waver in my voice.
Gemma studies me curiously. I doubt she missed the sound of my breath catching. She’s like a bloodhound with other people’s business.
“Zach’s fine,” Matt replies, turning his back to me. “Go to bed. You need to stay on schedule.”
His authoritative tone isn’t new, but I haven’t adjusted to it. He thinks because I live in his house, he can boss me around, like our parents who have overstepped one too many times. I’m lucky they want the best for me, but their love has manifested by keeping me on a suffocatingly short leash.
Of my immediate family members, I’m living with the one most likely to never understand me. Matt moves through life with incredible ease, making friends everywhere he goes, succeeding at everything he tries. He’s captain of the Palmer City Wolves for the fifth year, the youngest captain in franchise history. He married a stunning and kindhearted woman, created the most beautiful baby to ever exist, and lives in a mansion on a hill overlooking the city.
He can’t relate to my struggle, which makes it damn hard to be around him sometimes.
Gemma flashes a sympathetic look, one I recognize all too well. She never says a word to contradict my brother in front of me, but I hope she does it behind closed doors. She places a hand on my shoulder and gingerly guides me from the room. “Zach has a concussion, but he’ll recover. We'll talk more in the morning, all right? Matt needs to sleep. He hits the road early tomorrow.”
“Shouldhebe sleeping?” I ask, looking at Zach over my shoulder until Gemma’s led me too far into the hallway to see him. I follow her to my room.
“The doctor said it’s good for him. Apparently, it’s a common misconception you need to stay awake after a head injury. We should periodically wake him to make sure he’s okay though.” She places her hand on my forearm. “Don’t worry, Finley.”
“I’m not worried.” I turn my back and listen to her leave the room.
I click my show back on, but my heart isn’t in it any longer. My mind won’t stop focusing on the unconscious guy on theother side of the wall. He was unsure of himself the night we met, but I have no doubt he’s changed during the last two years. Zach’s a professional hockey player, so women probably throw themselves at him all the time.
I doubt he remembers me.
I’m not proud of our night together, but I’m not ashamed of it either. I understand my condition better, and I know what medication and lifestyle I need to remain healthy. I’m no longer numb, searching for something or someone to fill a void. Still, being confronted with my past isn’t easy. I live every day with the fear of returning to a shell of myself.
I must drift off at some point, because the next time I open my eyes, bright sunshine is seeping through the windows. A scribbled note from Gemma greets me on my nightstand beside the digital clock displaying ten a.m.Shit. I missed early morning practice, which means I’ll get a lecture from my coach.
Ran to the bakery, back early afternoon. Please check on Zach when you wake up. –Gem
I grapple for my phone, but when I unlock it, there are no messages from my brother. He left on his road trip without saying a word to me. It’s been two months since I moved in so we’re still in an adjustment period, but I can’t help noticing how much better Gemma has adapted to my presence.
