My teammates hold me back as the ref tells me I have a five-minute major penalty. We’re at even strength since another of their players joined the fight. Theo argues their defender should get a misconduct penalty for instigating and should leave the game.
I’m in a daze, staring at the time on the Jumbotron. There’s only four minutes and thirty-seven seconds left, so it doesn’t matter. We’re all out for the rest of the game.
The world comes back into focus, and their defender has blood on his jersey. For the first time since I started hockey, I’m proud of fighting.
Losing sight of Theo, I panic, trying to break free to find him.
Coach declares that anyone with blood on them has to leave the bench and get treatment. Since Benz isn’t playing tonight, he picks me up with Grayson, and they drag me down the tunnel to a treatment room.
Benz sets me in a chair next to the treatment bed where Grayson’s assistant examines Theo, asking the concussion protocol questions.
“See, I’m fine,” Theo grumbles.
Grayson shines a light in my eyes, pulling my gaze from Theo. “What got into you?” he asks with concern.
It would expose us if I said I was defending my boyfriend, so I shrug. Grayson sighs and asks his assistant to leave.
“You don’t need to say anything, just listen. If you’re trying to keep your relationship on the down-low, don’t act out of character.” He pins me with his stare. “Your first fight in the NHL was because Keefer got knocked around. People are going to ask questions. I can keep you in here until the media leaves the locker room, but I can’t stop people from asking questions.”
Gray grabs an ice pack and reexamines Theo. “No concussion, but we’ll take a closer look at your nose once the swelling goes down. We don’t want to mess up your pretty face.”
A low rumble takes me by surprise. Gray whirls around and points at me. “Right there. Control that. Your boyfriend’s pretty face has gotten him endorsements. You can’t go feral if someone comments on it.”
I’m frozen, and it takes all my concentration to swallow, as if I have to will each muscle to do its job. That noise came from me? I shouldn’t be surprised Ace told Grayson. But fuck.
Grayson’s head tilts back, and he takes a deep breath. “It’s hard. It’s new. I’m here if you want to talk about it.” Silence. “Fine. Stay here until someone comes to get you.” Gray exits the room, and the door snicks behind him.
Theo and I stare at each other. “There’s no chance he’s downplaying my injuries since I said I never get hurt, right?”
I stand between his legs while he sits on the table. His thumbs trace over my face, checking for swelling or bruising. I don’t remember getting hit, but I must’ve. His featherlight touch is such a departure from how he is on the ice.
“Gray’s a team player and wouldn’t risk his job for petty shit,” I assure him.
“You didn’t have to do that for me,” he whispers. “I can take care of myself.”
I cup his face and press my lips to his forehead. “I know you can. But you have me now, and we have each other’s backs.”
Theo’s eyes shut, and tears spring in mine because it’s so hard for him to hear. From what I can tell, Sarah is the only person in his life he can count on. Until now.
I’m still concerned about the hate we’ll receive, but he has to know I’m behind him. “I really liked Grayson calling you my boyfriend,” I admit, and his eyelids pop open.
“You didn’t like it when he called me pretty.” Theo nuzzles my sweaty neck, and I try to push him away from my smell. “Stop, I like it,” he says, refusing to move.
“I also didn’t like seeing your blood on the ice.” I run my fingers through his damp hair.
“Is that bad?” Theo asks tentatively.
“No, not bad, but everything with you is different. More intense. I’ve never felt the need to protect anyone before.”
His arms wrap around my waist. “I likethat.” Our little bubble is my favorite place, but we hear voices outside and pull away. “What do we do? Tell everyone or pretend it’s normal that you threw punches on the ice?”
“Are you ready to tell the team? Some obviously know, but we don’t have to confirm it. I’m sorry I made this harder.”
Theo straightens my jersey, which got stuck under a shoulder pad. “Don’t ever be sorry for that.” He hesitates, and I see the conflict. “I want to tell them, but maybe tomorrow. I’m so tired.”
“Of course.” I gently kiss his lips and sit back in the chair before I get us caught. It’s a big decision, and I want him to be a hundred percent sure.
Almost everyone has showered by the time Grayson’s assistant gives us the all-clear to enter the locker room. There’s tension in the air, and it’s unclear if the team is madatus orforus.
