“Soon,” he tells me. His words are followed with a tender, aching kiss that speaks of barely restrained need. Nicky strokeshis tongue against mine, and I meet his longing. Careful not to allow us to fall victim to it again, he pulls away, sealing our lips once more in chaste affection. I lean into the soft touch of his thumb, tracing idle patterns on the skin of my cheek.
There are sharp knocks on the front door, followed by another ringing of the bell, and Nicky leaves me in the kitchen to attend to the visitors. I open the fridge, removing the bottle of water Nicky discarded. The cold drink does little to alleviate the burning inside me, but I remind myself that Nicky’s health still comes first. I shouldn’t have allowed us to get carried away when he’s still recovering.
He might not be in danger anymore, but as the voices of the crew and training staff fill the house, I know he isn’t at full strength. He’s lost weight and stamina, and his mental health is also taking a toll. I push aside the discomfort of lady blue balls and follow the sounds of people in the living room.
“You look good as a WAG.”Trinity nudges me with an elbow. I flash her a quick smile. We’re hiding in the corner of the garage, as Andy directs the crew to set up lights and cameras for Nicky’s confessional taping. Across the space and the numerous workout apparatuses, Nicky walks on the treadmill. Robbie stands steadfast beside the machine, eyes flicking between the display screen and his athlete. The two other members of the strength and conditioning staff who tagged along have their heads bowed in conference, a tablet between them.
I watch Nicky for a few moments longer, taking note of the flush in his cheeks and the way he’s breathing with his mouthopen. Neither is cause for concern, but they show that he’s tiring, and it’s only been fifteen minutes. I squeeze my fingers into a fist at my side, but my flare of concern is eased when I see Nicky reach for the display, tapping it a few times and slowing the rotating band.
“Thanks for the notes about the shoot so far, and for including me on the update emails,” Trinity tries again, and this time I give her my attention. “It was really helpful, considering everything that was going on and coming onboard quickly. I don’t have the same relationship with Nicky that you do—professionally—so it’s made my job easier.”
“Of course,” I reply. Trinity smiles warmly. She’s a couple of inches shorter than me, and with her black hair lifted in a voluminous high pony it accentuates her black turtleneck, tucked artfully into wide-leg jeans. Her phone is clutched in one hand, a tablet cradled against her hip in the same arm. A polished professional as she surveys the space, throwing a nod at Andy before turning back to me. Trinity is good at her job, with four more years of experience with the team than I have. We get along in the way most coworkers working toward a shared goal do, but I’ve not tried to get to know her deeper than that.
“Are you coming back to the office now that Nicky’s developing a rehab plan?”
“I hadn’t given it much thought,” I tell her honestly. I let my eyes skate over my own outfit: navy corduroys and a slouchy beige cable-knit sweater. An outfit I would never wear to the office or any setting where I needed to be a point person. I run my fingers along the ribbing of my trousers, trying to consider what needs my attention at the office before abruptly shifting to the Valentine’s Day cards I need to help Natalia finish when I bring her home from school in a few hours. I almost jolt from how quickly my thoughts drift, abandoning work for a child.
“Things aren’t quite the same without you. It was a bit of a shock to find out the two of you were together, but it also makes a lot of sense,” Trinity continues, oblivious to the way I’m discovering how my brain has rewired. It’s easy to push off the thoughts that once made up my entire life in favor of what is so swiftly becoming the center of my world. Gone are meetings, emails, events, interviews, press statements, replaced with pick-up times, homework, dinner, and snuggle sessions with a sleepy five-year-old and her favorite stuffy. And I can’t find a shred of concern about the change.
I shake my head, clearing it to ask, “Nicky and I make sense?”
“Definitely.” Trinity’s face has a soft look, and her voice becomes a little dreamy when she speaks. “He’s always been intimidating and made of gruff edges. Just as big off the ice as he is on, and no one thought he had much personality outside of hockey. But you? From the day we met, you’re this ball of light and energy. You don’t take shit from anyone, you’re as loyal as hell, but you live for the job. Something about being around each other… it’s like you’ve softened him, pulled him out of his shell. And he gave you something more than the office to give your attention to.”
“Oh,” I manage inelegantly.
“I read a lot of romance books.” Trinity giggles. “Trust me, you’re perfect for each other. I’m kind of jealous.”
I can’t help but look for Nicky at that, warmth spreading through me when I find his eyes already on mine. He’s off the treadmill now, towel in hand, wiping away the sweat that’s gathered on his brow. I smile at him, so proud that he’s finding a way through what happened. He smiles back.
In the last year, I’ve learned to read Nicky’s smiles. This one blooms in bold lines, white teeth, and crinkled eyes. It unexpectedly lifts his face, like a surprise that lingers because it slowly softens, staying in place with fondness and longing.
This smile is for me.
“Interview time,” Trinity announces, taking a step toward the completed setup.
I hang back, content to watch and be here for support as Nicky quickly pulls on a Midnight hoodie and gets mic’d up before sitting down. Robbie hands him a sports drink, and I can tell they’ve had whatever conversation they needed to. There’s the usual spark between them I’ve seen before. But there’s more care now, exhibited when Robbie hovers for a fraction of a second before joining the rest of the training staff. They all give me a wave and head out the garage’s side door.
Andy steps in next to get Nicky’s attention, their hair now an electric orange, exchanging a few words, and wandering back behind the monitor. Our eyes meet for a moment, and I half smile, lifting a hand in recognition. They simply nod back, and I guess I can’t expect more. I don’t regret our last meeting, but I probably need to try to smooth that relationship over.
“It’s good to see you, Nicky,” Andy begins. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel good today,” Nicky answers. His shoulders hold a touch of tension, but his voice is relaxed. “Every day is a little different, but today has been good.”
“What do you remember about the last game you played?” Andy doesn’t waste any time. I cut my eyes to Trinity, pleased to see she’s held up her hand and is looking at Nicky for direction. He considers, but nods.
“Vegas were playing hard. They were challenging our guys, but the score stayed at zeros. I blocked a couple of good shots early, but by the third, the game was down at the other end of the ice.” Nicky lets out a long sigh.
“That’s all?”
“Sorry to disappoint you.” Nicky’s words are polite, but I sense his tone shift is a bit too sweet. Trinity types something into her tablet, but gives Nicky an encouraging smile.
“Let’s shift topics a little,” Andy says, looking at their notes in their lap. “There are two months left in the regular season. Is there a chance we’ll see you back on the ice before the end?”
Nicky shifts in his chair. A muscle in his jaw flutters as he clenches it. I don’t know what this question feels like, but I know it’s the heart of the demon he’s wrestled with for weeks.
“My focus right now is on my health—in every sense of the word. My physical health, my mental health, my emotional health.” Nicky threads his fingers together in his lap. “I love hockey, always have. I love my team—they’re a big part of the reason I’m able to talk to you today. I want to return to them, but only when I know I’m at my best. To do that, it’s going to take time, and I can’t tell you what that looks like.”
“It’s a lot of uncertainty.” Andy crosses their legs. “Is there anything youdofeel certain about?”
