Page 73 of Enemy Games

Chapter 20

Hunter

I couldn’t believe this is happening. It was so far out of the bounds of my reality that my shock seemed to twist into some sort of acceptance, but I couldn't quite wrap my head around the fact that this was real.

Presley, my Presley, was going to be an Olympic athlete.

Her dreams and goals and wishes were coming true. Everything she’d worked toward since she was a little girl, back in the days of Mini Mite.

I just wished that I had been supportive of her the entire time. I wished I could say that she had gotten to this point with me by her side, cheering her on, rather than in spite of me and the things that I’d said when we were kids.

But we weren't holding on to the past. We were moving forward in the best possible ways.

Opening up her Olympic swag bag was one of the greatest days of my life. Both of our teams surrounded her, cheering each time she opened a shirt or a hat or a pair of shoes. She had over forty brothers and sisters, and one boyfriend, cheering her on.

After she made the media rounds and the school took advantage of her success—that they had nothing to do with—she was able to get back into her normal routine.

She had four days before leaving for Alberta. One of the girls from the US women's team fractured her elbow. Presley would have time, well, a day or two, to practice with them before the women’s hockey games started.

All that stood between now and then was a quick road trip for another away game. As much as I wanted to cheer for her in her first game back after her wrist injury. I was nervous that this was a total mistake, but Matthew cleared her to play and with two other girls out sick, they needed her.

“Are you sure that you want to play tonight?”

We were about an hour away from West Penn in Ohio on the bus. It was supposed to be her big night as her first game as a Bobcat, and I felt horrible putting a damper on that. But I was so nervous. I wasn’t used to carrying about someone else like this, or worrying about their wellbeing.

“You only have a few days before you leave. If anything happens tonight, you might not make it to the Olympics. Is that really worth it?”

“Nothing’s going to happen.” She tightened her grip on my hand.

“You don’t know that.”

She leaned in and rested her cheek against my chest. “I appreciate you looking out for me. But I feel great. I feel healthy, and Matthew said I was fine.”

“I know you are. I know how long you’ve waited for this moment––“

“We don’t have any other subs left. If I don’t play, we won’t have enough bodies on the roster.”

I kissed the top of her head. “I know.” But my irrational side just wanted to make sure she stayed safe and healthy.

She tilted her head back until her chin was resting against my shoulder and she looked up into my eyes. “I'll be careful. Coach is only going to put me out for a few minutes each period. I won't take any unnecessary risks. I won't play too hard. I just need to get back out there and show my team I was worth the wait.”

“No one doubts that.” She didn’t say anything, and I leaned back. “Did someone say that?”

“Chris mentioned there has been some mumbling about me putting the Olympics before the team. As if I hurt my wrist to keep from playing.” She rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was truly bothered by this.

“Don’t listen to them, Presley. You can prove them wrong when you get back. Right now you need to focus on what’s best for you.”

I tightened my hold, pressing her against me. I wanted her to stay right there for the next three hours. Keep her from ever stepping out on the ice. I wasn't the type to normally have gut feelings or even listen to my intuition, but there was a voice in my mind screaming at me to get her to rest and to skip this game. But it wasn't up to me. This was her decision, and I needed to support her.

“Okay, as long as you promise me you'll be careful. Don't get too aggressive. Don't try to gain the attention of the other team. Just keep your head down and do what you're supposed to.”

“I will.” She moved up and pressed a kiss to my lips, pulling back before I could react.

My heart was in my throat every time Presley took a shift. I tracked her every movement and was on my feet if another player got within a few feet of her.

“Hunter, you need to calm down.” Benjamin tugged at the hem of my shirt. “You’re making a scene.”

“It’s a hockey game, not the opera. I’m supposed to yell.”