Page 50 of Against The Boards

She nodded. “Yeah…”

“You know, you can still play if you love the game. What’s so bad about playing in a beer league?” I asked.

She took a sip of her beer. “I don’t know. I think...I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

She wouldn’t look at me. “I didn’t play for most of my last year at university.”

“Oh?”

She downed more of her beer at an alarming pace.

I put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to tell me.”

She shook her head. “I took a nasty hit earlier in the season and got a severe concussion. I finished out that year, but I’ve barely been on the ice since.”

“Shit, Rox, I’m sorry.”

Her worrying about concussions and CTE made sense now. She was scared about that happening again or to someone she cared about, and I didn’t blame her.

I put an arm around her shoulder in comfort and was surprised when she didn’t yank it off. We finished our meal in silence, but I was glad I was slowly unraveling the mystery that was Roxanne Desjardins.

Chapter Fifteen

ROXANNE

I didn’t know why I told Benny about my concussion fears. There was something about him calmly asking me that made me reveal that secret. He was right, though; I missed being on the ice. I missed the skshh-skshh-skshh sound of my blades biting into the ice and the thwack of my stick against the puck. I had lived and breathed this sport for years, but like most women hockey players, it ended with my collegiate career. He was right. I could join a league for fun if I missed the game, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that.

I was mulling it over in silence and on my third beer when the guy next to me tapped me on the shoulder. He was a bearded, middle-aged guy with greying hair old enough to be my father. Gross.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

I held up my current bottle. “I’m good.” I turned back to Benny to ask him about the call on the ice I had missed, but the guy grabbed my arm. “Hey!” I yelled in protest.

“Come on, just looking for a little conversation,” the guy said with a slur. He was way drunker than Benny, who narrowed his eyes and clenched his hand around his nearly empty beer.

“I’m not interested,” I said to him. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“And people say chubby girls are easy,” he spat.

In a flash, Benny had risen to his full height and stood over the guy. “What the fuck did you say to her?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“Benny!” I yelled.

The guy sneered at me. “Bitch knows what I said. Fat girls are supposed to appreciate men interested in them.”

Benny stood over the guy. “Apologize to the lady, right now.”

“Benny! Stop!” I shrieked at him.

“Fuck you, man,” the guy scoffed.

I grabbed Benny’s arm and dug my fingernails into his skin. “Benny, calm down.”

He looked down at my hand on his arm, and his eyes softened as he met mine. He had been nursing his beer all night, so I didn’t think he was drunk, but I didn’t want him to cause a scene. He couldn’t be getting into bar brawls and jeopardizing his career because some asshole called me fat. I pulled him back toward his seat next to me.

I mouthed sorry to the bartender. “Can we get the check?” I asked her.