“Yeah. He drops early, too.”
She’s staring at the screen instead of making eye contact with me, but that’s okay. This game is a big one for us, and I know she’s worried about it. Or maybe I’m only interesting to watch film with when I’m actually going to be playing.
Finley points to the screen, where their goalie has dropped before the puck is even to him. “It’s too bad we won’t have you in the game. If you got a lane, your slap shot could beat him.”
I smile. “Was that a compliment?”
“Just the truth.”
She’s deadpan, not even a hint of playful bickering today, but I banter back anyway.
“Sounded like a compliment to me.”
Instead of responding, she turns her attention to the game, taking notes.
I guess the game is more interesting than I am tonight, and suddenly, I feel in the way. Just an annoying neighbor she has to work around rather than a partner.
The next hour passes slowly, broken up only occasionally by a comment from one of us about a player. When the film ends, my conversations have been shut down so many times, I’m worried I might’ve imagined last night happened at all.
I’ve rarely spent time with a woman socially after sleeping with her, so I’m not an expert on the norms, but I don’t think this is normal behavior. And I’m not sure what to do about it.
“Should we carpool to the final Yeti event next week?” I ask, grasping at any straw I can at this point.
“I’ll have to be at the arena early, so I’ll get there on my own.” The way she says it makes my chest ache. It’s nice. And polite. And if I could force myself to look at her face, I know she’d be wearing her work smile.
“Okay. Well, dinner tomorrow?” I ask, throwing out one final Hail Mary.
“I’m going to be working late all week. But thanks for the offer.”
What the hell?Thanks for the offer?Her mouth was wrapped around my cock this morning. We are so far past “thanks for the offer.”
Or, at least, I thought we were. But maybe I was wrong.
“Sure,” I say. “Well, I’d better head to bed.”
I walk out of her apartment and back to mine in a trance, like I’m in an alternate universe. It’s like I teleported back to the first few weeks I lived here. The solitude I felt then was normal—the independence to focus on exactly what I needed when I needed it—but looking back, it was lonely trying to navigate a new town, a new team, with no one to talk to.
Getting paired with Finley for the Challenge changed that. Suddenly, I wasn’t a one-man show anymore. I was part of the larger group, and that was nice. Even if it was always supposed to be temporary.
Though, it hasn’t felt temporary in a long time. Definitely not since that fateful away trip.
I don’t know why, but the Finley from last night, the one who made me feel joy and happiness for the first time in a long time, is pulling away. And there’s something hauntingly familiar about the loneliness starting to burn deep within my chest.
Chapter 35
Finley
“Welcometothefinalevent in The Great Yeti Challenge!” Ken Peterson's voice booms across the arena, from where he stands on a red carpet at center ice. Applause thunders in the space, almost louder than it is at hockey games. But the crowd today isn’t your normal Yeti fans. It’s an odd assortment including representatives from the nonprofits selected by the various teams as their choice for the partner for next year; new fans who came to us through The Great Yeti Challenge; and a few of the loyal Yeti supporters who want to knoweverythingabout the team, from the plays and the trades, to each player’s stats, to what happens behind the scenes.
There are far more women in the room than men, not a ratio the arena sees often.
The teams have been split up since the event started. Which means I don't have to be around Beckett, which is for the best. Because if the last week has taught me anything, it’s thatremaining professional is much easier if I’m just not around him.
What we did was stupid and reckless. It was not okay. So ithasto mean nothing. What we did. What I felt. Even if the constant weight in my belly, the guilt I’m trying to bury deep, reminds me that it, in fact, meanteverything.
The arena goes quiet as Ken reviews the rules of the game and, with a dramatic pause, introduces the Yeti players who will be helping with this challenge.
It’s a pretty simple game. One person from each Challenge pair is the hockey player, and they have to make sound hockey decisions. They’ll run through drills and standard scenarios from both an offensive and defensive perspective. Power plays, two-on-one, three-on-one, that sort of thing. The other person from the Challenge pair is off the ice, sitting on the bench. Their job is to decide, before the player on the ice can move, what the textbook answer is to the scenario presented by the Yeti players.
