I help the boys with simple drills and basic techniques for the next hour and learn that not only is Blake ‘Mr. Sexy Eyes and Mistakes’, he’s also the captain of the team andtheBlake Wilder.
As in the Blake Wilder that my dad has been both gushing and bitching to me about for the past two years… Blake Wilder. How did I not realize who he was? I fight to push this piece of information out of my brain as I help the guys. I’ve talked to nearly everyone in here while also avoiding the man I’d been too close for comfort with not even two days ago.
In my small group, I have Charlie Tyson, a senior right defenseman, Braxton, who I found out is a left defenseman, and Alec Tu, one of the senior right-wingers.
The three boys keep me laughing more than teaching and I’m not mad about it as I learn all about them and the team despite my not wanting to.
They tell me about when Blake and Jace went streaking last year after winning the championship and how my dad got them a pet goldfish that lasted most of the season until Ivaan Brar, a senior right-winger, accidentally killed it. I tell them bits and pieces about myself and how it feels to have Clef Jones as my father.
I spend most of the time talking with Alec about using the puck to our team’s advantage. Of the three guys, Alec is the calmest and more reserved. It took him a full ten minutes to finally say more than two words to me while Braxton and Charlie practically talked their heads off.
“Aaannndddshoot!” I exclaim, nearly jumping for joy as Alec lets the puck rip from his stick back out onto the rink.
“You just saved my life.” He chuckles, his nose scrunching as he watches the puck slap someone’s skate.
“Sorry…”
I laugh as the player sighs, shaking his head and it isn’t until the player skates off that I see him again.
Blake’s blue eyes bore into my soul as we watch one another. He gives me a small smile, the crooked kind that’ll make a girl’s heart stop, and it takes everything in me not to smile back at him because smiling back is an invitation. When it comes to hockey players, I refuse to invite any of them back in. I didn’t leave Brighton to stumble into the arms of another ice warrior.
So instead of smiling back, I look away and focus my attention back on Alec. He and I practice more one-on-one shots, while Braxton and Charlie do their own thing on the side. Getting to know Alec may be the best thing to come out of today, he speaks to me as if he’s known me for years and though he’s on the quieter side, he makes me feel comfortable to talk with him.
I feel like I’ve run four marathons back to back as I exit out of the boys’ practice in the afternoon. What originally was supposed to be a two-hour session with them quickly turned into three and a half one. Dad somehow convinced me to stay and help with two more groups. So now I know way more of the team than I’d planned. Which is fine… I just don’t need to learn any more names or get to know any more of the guys.
I sigh as the early September air warms my skin; it’s still warm in Maryland and I am not complaining about it one bit. This warm air is exactly what I needed after spending a day in the rink with only a sweatsuit on.
Pulling out my phone I groan at the sight of two new messages.
Unknown
you know what they say about mice
the cats away, young Cleo but just know I’m always watching
My breath is shaky as I inhale sharply. I had to leave Brighton. It was not safe for me or anyone in the situation… I had to leave. I had to leave. I had to leave. I had to—
“Hey… You okay?”
The voice that calls out to me is warm and soft like a hand that fights to pull you out from underwater. For just this once, I let it pull me to the shore of peace and sanity.
My breathing calms as my brain tries to place where I am and what’s happening. I’m still in the arena parking lot, the sun is on the verge of setting, and there is a man in front of me. My breathing shakes again and I realize I’m trembling. His eyes are cloudy as he watches me with brows dipped in concern.
“What?”
“Just breathe for a second,” he says softly.
Though skeptical, I nod, taking a couple of deep breaths, and then slowly, my heartbeat steadies.
“Are you okay, Cleo?” Blake asks me.
No. I want to scream and shout at the top of my lungs that no, I am not okay. No, I am not fine. I’m scared for my life every day because of something I can't control. I’m scared of repeating history with a new man. I’m scared that everything will crumble if I ever speak about the things that I’ve been through. I’m just scared.
But being scared isn’t going to pay the bills and crying about it won’t do me any good.
That thought alone brings my breathing back.
“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” The lie spills out of me like a tipped over glass of water.
