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In fact, you better keep it.
I love you.
Taking the spare key from my keychain, I place it down on the piece of paper before grabbing a drink out of the fridge and hitting the road.
I meet the boys at the park, just like every other morning, and we get straight into it. Just as I predicted, my body begins to relax, and after a decent warm-up, the pain is tolerable. This is only a run though. Getting on the ice is going to be a whole new issue.
I have a fight in a few days and I’m not stupid enough to assume it will be better by then, but if I take care of myself, I might still have a chance of winning. It takes months for a broken rib to heal, and getting in the ring with a broken rib is fucking stupid. It will be obvious to my opponent that I have a weakness, and that area will be targeted. Not to mention, if I get hit and a piece of my rib dislodges and punctures my lung or heart, it’s game over for me.
A few hours later, I step off the ice completely exhausted. Who would have known that training with an injury would be so hard? But I gave it my all, and I don’t think anyone noticed that I was lacking or favoring my left side.
As I make my way toward the locker room, I pass Coach Harris and can’t help but notice the way he narrows his gaze on me, a strange mix of curiosity, concern, and suspicion flashing in his eyes. I look away almost immediately. Perhaps I didn’t go as unnoticed as I’d hoped.
I’ve never given him a reason to doubt me, so maybe he’ll put it down to me just having a bad day. After all, I’m only human. We all have bad days.
After making my way into the locker room, I take my sweet time removing my skates and hockey gear. I’m usually the quickest to get out of here, so it’s damn frustrating. I feel like I’m going at a snail’s pace, but I can’t risk the guys seeing my ribs in the showers and asking questions.
When the majority of the boys have cleared out, I finally head in and get cleaned up. I’m the only person in here, so I make it quick, but when Jaxon walks in as I’m turning off the water, I realize I’m not getting out of here without being seen.
He minds his business, just as he should in the showers, but I make it quick nonetheless. I towel off and pull my jeans on before heading out of the stall, and as I raise my hands above my head to pull my shirt down, a voice stops me in my tracks.
“Dude?”
I whip around finding Jax gawking at my ribs. Fuck.
“It’s nothing, man,” I say, shrugging it off, but this is just the beginning. I see the questions and curiosity in his eyes. The fucker is already suspicious of me. I see him watching me after game night, noticing how I leave earlier than everyone else, and until now, he’s let it slide. But I doubt that’s gonna be the case now.
Not giving him the chance to question me further, I quickly pull my shirt the rest of the way down and get the fuck out of there.
My blades cut through the slick ice as I push forward with the puck at the end of my stick. I shoot it across to Bobby to avoid getting body slammed into the barrier. I have a fight tonight, and turning up with another injury is not going to work in my favor. Especially after Cole chewed me out all week when I didn’t let on just how badly I was injured.
I stick by Bobby’s side, ready and waiting if he needs me. Jaxon comes flying up to Bobby’s other side so we each flank him as the rest of our teammates work defense and make a clear line for Bobby to shoot the puck straight into the net. The crowd roars in excitement as their favorite team scores yet again. Bobby claps me on the back right before Jaxon comes out of nowhere, slamming into him in excitement.
Coach calls us to the side to talk through our plan of attack, pointing out weaknesses on the opposing team and firing us back up again before sending us back to the center of the ice.
The game is hard, and I push myself a little too much, but it’s a necessary evil. I committed to giving my all to my team, and despite how fucking bad it hurts, that’s exactly what I do. No pain, no gain. At least, that’s the bullshit my father always used to feed me.
The sweet agony pays off when the final buzzer sounds, declaring victory for the Dragons. An hour later, I’m sitting back with a beer in my hand, staring at my girl as she effortlessly works the crowded bar.
