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The sound of the front door opening jars me out of my thoughts as I glance up, knowing damn well Torryn is still in class yet disappointment flares when it’s only Beau who walks into the kitchen.
“Why is this fucker so morose?” Beau asks Wells, throwing his backpack on the counter and taking the seat next to me.
Flipping him off, I deny the accusation at the same time Wells tells him it’s because Torryn has work tonight. I roll my eyes as Beau snickers and Wells grins. “If it makes you feel better,” he teases, “she’s the one who cooked dinner tonight.”
“Well, her cookingisbetter than yours,” I taunt back, satisfied with being able to get my own jab at him.
I ignore their responses as my phone starts ringing and I look down to see my mom’s face. I nod to the guys and head to my room to answer the call. Thankfully this time it’s only my mom and none of my brothers around to heckle me as almost every phone call recently has been. We only chat for a couple of minutes while I confirm with her that I’ll be able to meet with them for lunch before the game. While she does ask questions about my relationship status, she’s much quicker to drop it than any of my brothers would be, making me grateful that we agreedto meet at a local restaurant and not at the house. None of them are aware about our newest roommates and I’d like to keep it that way. There are enough taunts from the guys on the team, let alone my family getting to know Torryn.
The day before a game always seems to drag on forever. The anticipation and adrenaline not quite building, yet it’s so close you can’t help but feel ready for it to be game day already. Today is no exception, in fact, today is much worse than normal.
No amount of film, homework, or bullshitting with the guys is able to shake off the ansty feeling that’s been slowly growing through the week.
“What’s wrong with him?” Isla whispers to Wells at the dinner table while we are all eating.
Wells looks over at me but just chuckles. “Just pregame jitters, babe. You can ignore him.”
Beau nudges me with his elbow, speaking around a mouthful of food. “Don’t worry. He’ll be back to his annoying ways tomorrow.”
I don’t even bother flipping them off or rolling my eyes. They’re right. The first game of the season is always the worst for me. The anxiety about everything coming together, of the team working well together, and everything we’ve practiced so hard paying off.
Isla nods and attempts to change the subject. “What was the package you got?”
The reminder of what I ordered weeks ago finally arriving is enough to make a small smile break through my anxiety. “You’ll see,” I promise, not ready to spoil the surprise yet. Not that it’s a surprise for her, or anyone else at this table. But I don’t trust their loud mouths or their inability to pass up the chance to tease me. This will only be fuel to that fire, but it’ll be worth it all the same.
Eventually, I’ll enlist Isla’s help, but not yet.
After helping clean up the kitchen, I grab my package and make little kissy noises to catch Karma’s attention. She dutifully ignores me but root veggie is quick to heed my call, wrapping his little body around my ankles as he circles them. I scoff, scooping him into my hands before walking across the room and grabbing Karma too, ignoring her half-hearted meow of discontent.
Heading to my room, I pause just after passing Torryn’s door. Backtracking a couple of steps I linger outside of the closed doors, looking down at the cats in my arms. “Would it be weird?” I whisper to them and wait as if they’ll actually respond. Karma gives me a blank stare, unamused with me as usual. Potato just stares up at me with his wide eyes. I sigh. “You’re right. It would definitely be weird.”
We can act like the thought never crossed my mind. I continue to my room and drop the cats on the bed before shucking off my shirt and tossing it into the hamper in the corner before falling on my mattress. Turning over the package in my hands, I start to open it. It only takes me a few minutes to figure it out and just like I expected, the kittens are cooperating perfectly already.
French fry lays across the pillow, stretching his belly with his little paws lazily sticking in the air while Karma is curled up next to him, two of her paws resting over his exposed belly. I’ve never seen anything cuter in my whole damn life.
I lift the new camera to my eye, and I’m man enough to admit it’s an awkward hold, but if I can skate circles around opponents on the ice, chasing down a three inch disk, surely I can manage to take photos using a polaroid camera.
The small white rectangle slowly feeds up from the top, the photo still completely white and a childish excitement distracts me from my nerves over the game tomorrow. I lay the photo flat and wait for the image to come through, hoping I didn’t fuck it up.
Realistically, not more than a minute must have passed. But as colors slowly start to develop, each second drags on making it feel three times as long by the time I can finally make it the furry bodies cuddling in bed.
Torryn won’t be able to help but smile every time her eyes land on it. Step one of the plan to make her room more homey is complete. Putting the camera on my bedside table, I lay back on the free pillow and watch as more of the image becomes clear. My smile grows partially over how cute our little fur babies really are, but also imagining Torryn’s reaction. Nothing softens her up quite like the kittens do.
I place the photo next to the camera and turn off the lights before shifting under the covers and running through not only the day, but everything I have to do tomorrow. The night before a game is arguably the night I need the best sleep, yet it’s always the nights I have the hardest time falling asleep.
Attempting to strategize and predict every play and rotation the Blackstone Bears may try to pull out for our season opener. They’re known for being an aggressive team that isn’t afraid to play dirty if they can get away with it. But will that really be the way they choose to start their season? Stupid question. It’s what they’re known best for for a reason. It’s the only way they win.
We can handle aggression. Well. Wilder and Zac are players to be concerned about. Their tempers run hotter than anyone on the team and their youth puts them at a disadvantage. They haven’t learned how to temper their responses. Fights in hockey may be an expected part of the game, something we all know growing up in the sport, but the penalties for fighting in college are much harsher. Something our wildest two freshmen may not fully grasp until their asses are glued to the bench without being able to play.
I flop back and forth, my body reflecting the state of my mind as I bounce from worries of the game to stressing about Torryn.The stalker has been silent but does he have eyes on her right now? Are there more perverted men harassing her even as I lie here thinking about hockey? Is it weird that I kind of miss her? I haven’t seen her since this morning, making this the longest amount of time without my eyes on her since we started making sure she was never alone. How much longer until she’s going to be home and I know she’s safe?
It must be bad, because even Potato is starting to meow in protest as I roll over again. Maybe I should let him into Tor’s room to wait for her.
Fuck it. I can’t resist it any longer. I need to hear that she’s okay. That nothing out of the ordinary is happening. That it’s just another boring night at Tease and Xander is doing nothing but nursing beers and lurking in the corner. I see the time on my phone and curse. She still has hours left in her shift.
At least Xander is quick to respond, even if I can hear the snark through his texts. A photo of Torryn behind the bar follows his message. Her dark hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, making it easy to see the way her lips are rolled as if she’s having to hold back from saying whatever is running her mind. And of course, she’s wearing that way too tiny bikini top that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.
Fuck she looks good. And safe. If not a little annoyed.
