I push off, gliding into the crease.The ice hums under my blades, familiar and steady.
And for the first time all week, my thoughts go quiet.I leave the outside world behind and let my instincts take over.
CHAPTER EIGHT
SIDNEY
The second I step into my condo and drop my gear bag, my phone vibrates in my pocket.I don’t bother checking it at first—probably a team update or Mason sending me another meme of a goalie getting annihilated by a toddler.
When he’d returned from making sure his girlfriend was okay a week ago, he’d been in a pretty mellow mood.It’d taken Max and me a good day to shake him out of his funk and get him back to his easygoing self.
He’d been worried about Victoria, I got that.But we also had a stellar season to prepare for.Every one of us needed to lock in and give it all we had.
Training camp had been brutal at times.No matter how hard you continue to train in the off-season, that first team practice always humbles you.I wasn’t zooming up and down the ice like the rest of my team, but after that first day, my hip flexors were singing.
It feels nice to be home though.Two weeks was enough time for the team to bond without draining anybody’s social battery, but I’m looking forward to sitting in silence for at least a day to recover from all the constant noise.
Speaking of noise, why is my cell going off non-stop?Pulling the device out of my pocket, I glance at the screen, instantly on alert when I see who’s calling.
Eddie Watson.
My heart stops, then punches back to life so hard it feels like a misfire.She’s calling.
Calling.Not texting.Calling.
I stare for a beat too long, hand frozen mid-air, when it stops vibrating.Part of me doesn’t want to respond right away—the juvenile side of me that’s butt-hurt over her ignoring me for two weeks.
The other side of me wants to do a happy dance and answer immediately.Talk for hours and get every update imaginable from her.
But before I can decide what I want to do, the call goes to voicemail.I fumble the phone and swear under my breath at my stupidity.I tap into my cell and call her back.
H-Hey, Eddie.How’s it going?I say, trying to sound casual, normal, not like I’d been borderline pathetic, waiting for her attention.
But the voice that responds isn’t the one I was expecting.
Sidney?
Joey?His voice is low, almost sacred.
Every muscle in my body tenses.Joey?Hey, man.What’s going on?
There’s a small inhale, the sound of a kid trying to keep his emotions under wraps.S-something’s wrong with my mom.
The world slides sideways, and I stop my progression into my condo, frozen in the middle of the hallway.
What do you mean?I force my voice to be steady, calm.Tell me what’s happening.
She’s really hot.And sweaty.And she’s coughing a lot.She won’t get out of bed.I tried to give her water, but she didn’t want any.I-I don’t know what to do.
Fuck.That doesn’t sound good at all.
Do you know any of your neighbours?Are they home?I ask.
Umm, I know Mr.Alverez, but he’s not home.And my Aunt Bri isn’t answering her phone.His breath hitches.I don’t know what to do,he repeats.
Joey,I say, already pocketing my keys and heading for the bathroom cabinet,I’m coming.Right now.Can you tell me your address?
He rattles it off, voice trembling, and it kills me.I hate that he’s feeling helpless right now.Hopefully, I can help.I pull up my Notes app quickly and type it down.My brain is too frazzled to remember anything right now, so this will help when I’m back in the car.
