Fuck.“I always act different around you.” I try to smirk, or at least cock my head the way I normally would, but it feels so forced now.
“Mav. If this is about last night, I’m sorry for running out.” Her voice comes out as a plea, but I hear the hint of nervousness in there and it only makes my heart race more that she thinks I’m upset about that. “I was confused after Bingo, but I’ve thought about what you said, and honestly, I?—”
“I got in a fight.”
Her head rears back with a pinch between her brows.
“You…”
“I proved them right, Chloe,” I blurt out, immediately wishing I could take it back. On the ice, everything was noise, but it wasn’t instinct. I waited, holding back and counting breaths, and knowing what it could cost me. Now, sitting beside her is just the quiet and the fallout of the choice I made anyway.
Yes, I’m terrified of what this means for my career. I know that my entire future in the NHL is now hanging on by a thread, but that fear takes a backseat to the one filling my chest now. I don’t look at her right away. I already know what I’m afraid of. I’m just bracing myself to see it reflected back at me.
Her hand lands on my back, light but grounding enough that I continue, “I’ve let people assume the worst of me, and I’ve always thought I was better than them because I knew the truth, but tonight,” I swallow, leaning forward at the edge of the couch, “I was the guy they all say I am.”
I hear her exhale deep and steady. “First of all, are you okay?”
Am I okay? I would laugh if I wasn't scared it would turn into a scream. I threw my fist into someone's face and the first thing she wants to know is ifI’mokay.
“I…hit someone.” I scrub a hand across my jaw, elbows braced on my knees. “Even if I wasn’t fine, I don’t get to complain about it. I swung on a guy even after being told that if I so much as looked at someone aggressively this year, my life would be over. I—fuck,I risked everything tonight.”
Chloe doesn’t react. She just waits. Listens. “What happened?” she asks, quietly.
I stare at the carpet between my feet. “A fight broke out tonight, and I stood at the edge of it, thinking that I was in control.” I huff a breath. “All it took was one of their guys slamming Parker to the ice, and I lost it.”
“What did Mr. Alvarez say?”
“Nothing, really.” I shake my head. “He just said we haveto wait to see what the school says, and whatever they say, Toronto will likely agree.”
“Well, okay. So, there’s hope. It’s not over now.”
I gave her a hard time about it in the beginning, but I’ve come to love Chloe’s optimistic look on life. She thinks life is a movie, and if something bad happens, it’s okay, because that must mean it’s not over yet. I don’t have the heart to tell her that bad shit happens sometimes and we don’t always win.
When I don’t say anything, she scoots closer and continues to run comforting circles across my back. “I know it seems like deep shit right now, but I’ve seen things like this happen before.” She shrugs. “And I have to believe that it will all work out.”
I shake my head, emotion clogging my throat.
“Maverick. Talk to me. What are you thinking?”
“I’m scared, Chlo.” I lift my head, hands flexing uselessly in front of me before I plant them on my knees, fingers splaying like I need something solid to keep me from tipping over. “All my eggs are in this one fucking basket.” I pause, not recognizing myself or my outburst, but Chloe remains steady at my side. “I’m also worried about what you're thinking now,” I admit.
“Me?”
I tilt my head, looking over at her. After everything I’ve already admitted, I should be able to say it. I should be able to tell her that I’m scared she’ll never really choose me, that she’ll always be bracing for my next fuck up. The words sit heavy in my chest, confirming that I’m not quite ready to expose all of myself like that. So, instead, I say, “If people weren't already judging you for dating me, they're definitely going to have something to say about it now.”
She drops her head into her hand and her elbow to the back of the couch. “Yeah well…” Her free hand finds my thigh, and her eyes lock on mine so wholly when she shrugs a shoulder and says, “Fuck ‘em.”
Something in my chest eases, and even though I’m barely staying afloat, a small unwanted smile tugs at my lips. I feel like I’m drowning, begging for a life vest right now, but she’s still able to make me smile.
“And as for having all your eggs in one basket, I envy you for having one thing you're passionate about and not being scared to go after it,” she admits.
There's a subtlety there that reminds me to encourage her to pursue her writing. I take a breath, sinking back into the couch. Her knees rest in my lap and I cover them with the palm of my hand, painfully aware that hockey isn’t the only thing that makes me happy.
30
chloe
Maverick: “Big day,little crab. Opportunities are opening up, and today you’re built for winning—whether you panic or not.”
