I stare at the window, coming to terms with the wicked truth.
“I know. I’m in love with Ellie.”
“So what’s the problem?” Callahan asks, and I realize now that I haven’t told anyone but Ellie about the good news.
“I’m almost cleared,” I tell him.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m almost done with PT. I’ll be coming back to the Storm to start practice soon. They’ll start me slow, but Jared says I’ll be back on the ice in no time,” I explain, but I don’t sound as excited as I should. Because I know what it could really mean.
Callahan howls on the other end and I have to pull the phone away from my face so he doesn’t pierce my fucking eardrum.
“Fuck yeah, brother! That’s awesome! The guys are gonna be stoked,” he exclaims. “I don’t see how this is a problem though.”
Huffing out a breath of frustration, I climb off the bed and begin to pace back and forth. If Ellie would just let me talk to her about this.
I’d tell her I don’t plan on going anywhere without her. I know I don’t have a great track record, but this time it’ll be different. This time I know what I have in front of me and I’m not ever going to push her away again. She’s been my rock, a constantreminder these past few months that hockey isn’t all I have.
“Ellie thinks I’m gonna disappear again. I don’t even know if she has actual feelings for me. We really haven’t talked about it. But the way she looked at me the other night, I could tell exactly what she was thinking. She expects me to walk away again.” I don’t know why I’m telling him all of this like he’s my goddamn therapist. I sound like a fucking loser.
“And you don’t want to?” he asked, attempting to figure out what I’m rambling about.
“No. I want her to come with me,” I state, feeling so sure of my choice.
“Well then tell her. Make her listen. There’s no way she doesn’t feel anything for you. You’ve been cooped up in a house together for three and a half months, dude. And from the sound of it, she really likes when you do the horizontal tango,” he proclaims, and I can literally see him wink at me through the phone. Idiot.
He’s not wrong though. One thing I can say for certain is I still know how to please Ellie when it comes to sex. I can read her body like a fucking book. She’s reactive as hell and she can’t hide when she’s turned on. Her cheeks flush and her body tenses. And she always gets this look in her eye, like she doesn’t want to give in, but her body betrays her.
My mouth begins to water and my dick hardens as I visualize Ellie all wet and ready for me.
Fuck, she’s a goddamn dream, and I never want to wake up. Shit, stop thinking about sex right now.
After talking about the team and discussing what I’ve missed in my time away, Callahan and Ihang up, and I’m left alone once again, contemplating all of my life’s decisions.
If nothing else, these past few months with Ellie have made me realize that maybe healing wasn’t just about my knee. Maybe it’s been about figuring out what kind of life I actually want if hockey wasn’t the only thing left standing.
I don’t know what choosing her looks like. I don’t know what it’ll cost. I don’t know if she even wants me to ask her to come with me. But for the first time since the injury…I know what I’m afraid of losing, and itisn’t hockey.
Chapter 37
Ellie
T
onight’s the night.
It’s Pucks and Props night, and I feel sick to my stomach. Not because I’m nervous, but because I’ve been thinking about Jamie for two straight days and I haven’t been able to focus on anything else. I should be completely immersed in this production, in the play, but instead I’m thinking about how to tell Jamie that we can’t continue whatever is happening between us because in a week and a half, he’ll go back to his life, and I’ll stay here.
In a week and half, we’ll go back to being strangers, ex-lovers, and I’ll go back to pretending he never existed. That he never broke my heart.
It’s about to be a long night, and I’m already over it. I just want to get this thing over with and bedone with it all. The only thing I am excited about is seeing Lainey. She and Holland will be here tonight to cheer on the hockey team and my theatre students. And for moral support. God knows I’m going to need it.
As I stand in the middle of the rink, my clipboard in hand, I look around the arena. It’s huge for a college campus, but I wouldn’t really expect anything less from a university that costs an arm and a leg in tuition.
I’d never really been in here before all this. Before Jamie. The only thing I ever did in this building was use the auditorium for shows I was in. Now that I’m alone, I’m taking it all in. The ceiling is high, with banners hanging down from past championships. The ice gleams under my feet reflecting the school crest right in the center.
Tiered seating rises steeply on both sides, and though I’ve never seen a professional hockey arena, I’m pretty sure Ellington’s arena is close to the same size.
