Page 60 of Something Like That

At the last second, the right winger, who had her butt planted in front of the crease and was jostling for position with the opposing forward, flicked her stick up. The puck deflected off the stick, changing trajectory in the air. It veered to the right and hit the ice in the space between the goalie’s pad and the post. The center reached forward and tapped the puck with her stick, sliding it over the goal line.

The red light lit up and the ref blew the whistle.

“Yeah,” he yelled. Em squealed, leaping to her feet and throwing her casted hand in the air. She had a death grip on her latte with the other hand. A cheer erupted from the crowd on this side of the stands. The Phantoms were high fiving each other and heading back toward their bench for a line change. Their opponents were subdued as they skated to their own bench.

He could relate. He’d had plenty of disappointing moments playing this game. While there had been plenty of euphoric ones, the bad seemed to outweigh the good by a factor of a million. It was the bad stuff that lingered. Hung around your neck like a Zamboni on a chain.

Jesus, what was he thinking about that shit for? He gave his head a shake and focused on the game in front of him.

Em settled beside him, a little closer than before, forcing him to scoot a little more to the left. His leg brushed Alex’s, although this time, he didn’t move out of the way. Partly because he liked touching her, but mostly because he was curious to see what she’d do.

The ref had the teams lined up at the center for the face off. He kept his gaze glued to the ice. Her leg twitched against his. He held his breath. She was totally going to shuffle away from him. Any second now…

He counted to ten, and then added ten more for good measure. She still hadn’t moved away. He wanted to shout, maybe do a fist pump or something, but he forced himself to stay still. Keep his cool. Besides, he didn’t actually want to move, because then he wouldn’t be touching her. And he liked touching her.

Probably way too much.

The action on the ice snagged his attention, the back and forth fast and furious. He found himself completely engrossed in the game. Before he knew it, the horn blew, signaling the end of the first period.

He sat up, having leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as the action on the ice deepened. “Wow, that was a great period.” He glanced over at Em. “Your team’s really good. They play well together.”

She beamed at him. It lit up her face so much, his chest hurt. He lifted a hand to rub the spot right over his sternum.

“Yeah, we’ve got a great record this season. Nine, two and three.” By the pride on her face, he’d swear she’d single handedly won all the games herself. Then again, given her passion, he wouldn’t be surprised.

She leaned over to look past him. “Mom, I’m going to go and talk to the girls in the locker room. K?”

“Sure,” Alex said.

He glanced over at her. The sweet, tender look on her face as she looked at her daughter made the ache in his chest flare bright. She was so beautiful.

Em bounded off. He watched her go and then turned to Alex. Now that they were alone, all the words dried up. He had no idea what to say. “Umm, so… I mean…”

She patted his knee. Although he liked her hand on him, the move felt patronizing.

He placed his hand over hers, trapping it between his knee and his palm.

She sucked in a quick breath, but didn’t pull away. Instead, she spread her fingers, almost like she wanted to touch as much of him as possible. A thread of satisfaction wound through him.

“Nick.” She kept her voice low, probably so the people around them couldn’t hear. He leaned in, the scent of coconut enveloping him, sending his heart smacking into his ribcage like it had been checked in the corner. “About what happened in the car—”

His guts clenched. Shit, she was going to say she regretted it or something, wasn’t she? Disappointment and humiliation crashed through him so suddenly, it stole his breath right out of his lungs. She’d said her reservations weren’t about him, but clearly they were. Why else would she get so weird about it now? She’d obviously had time to think it through, and realized he was a sad loser and—

“Nick?” She squeezed his knee, bringing him back. Shit, he’d sort of gone off the deep end there for a second. “Are you okay?”

He shrugged and moved her hand off his leg. “Yeah, I’m fine.” There was a disappointed note in his voice that he wanted to snatch back. But it was too late. He twisted slightly so he was no longer angled toward her.

She swiveled, bringing her knee against his and holding it there. Dammit, why did she have to be so close? He should move away, scoot over. Em was gone, her seat empty. There was no reason he needed to torture himself like this. Just an inch or so to the right was all it would take.

And yet, he didn’t move. He couldn’t make his body cooperate. He was a sad loser, and a sucker to boot. So starved for whatever affection he could find, he got greedy, never making sure to keep himself protected.

This is what happened when you took your eye off the goal. You got distracted and let a whole bunch of other shit become more important.

She slipped her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. The move made his heart ache so keenly, he was afraid for a second, he was having a heart attack. These two were going to be the death of him. He should pull away, protect himself. What little part of him was left to protect.

Instead, he turned to look at her. “I know you regret what happened, Alex. You don’t need to pretend.” The hurt in his voice pissed him off, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He glanced away, unable to look at her for more than a few seconds.

“I don’t regret what we did, Nick.” She squeezed his fingers. He glanced down at their hands and back up at her face. “I’ll never regret what we did. It was amazing, a night I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.”