And yet here I am.
Fucked.
The puck sails past me again and Keller blows the whistle, waving me over. My chest squeezes as I skate over, the snick of the ice loud in my ears. I’m about to get benched, I know it.
“You up all night, Steele?” Coach levels a serious gaze at me, tiny worry lines crinkling around his gray eyes. “You look wrecked.”
I shrug. “Had a little trouble sleeping, yeah.”
“Room not comfortable?”
“No, it was fine. I’m just keyed up for the game is all.” I straighten my shoulders, shifting from foot to foot.
I cannot get benched again.
Coach rakes a hand through his short hair. “Hit the showers. Then go meditate, watch film, do something other than what you’re doing out there right now. Get your mind right for tonight.”
With a quick wave, he dismisses me from practice.
Fucking great.
I may not even start tonight.
I haven’t missed a start in the last five years.
Pissed off, I shove into the locker room and throw my skates down. Check my phone for the hundredth time today.
Sunshine: We need to set better boundaries
Son of a bitch.
Translation: Last night was a mistake.
Not the text I needed.
I chuck the phone back into my locker and head to the showers, my stomach knotted up tighter than a rubber band ball.
“Bennett. I’m surprised to see you.” Dr. Sparks settles into a chair directly across from me, the legal notepad and pen on the long conference table in front of her.
I kick my feet out, stretching my legs under the table and leaning back.
“Yeah, well. Coach Keller kicked me out of practice this morning. Told me to get my mind right. Figured you were the best person to call.”
Dr. Sparks tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and picks up her pen.
“Tell me about practice.”
I crack my knuckles, one by one, each crack echoing off the walls of the empty room.
“I missed the puck. Was slow off the line. Got beat.”
“Okay. What was going through your mind when you missed the puck?”
Tori.
Boundaries.
But I can’t say that. Not to her. Not now.
