Glove Save (Carolina Comets)

“Come on, come on! We’re going to miss warmups!” Macie grabs my hand, pulling me from the team store toward the ice.

I let her drag me along, knowing full well we’re doing fine on time, and she’s just excited about another hockey game. We’re using the last of Miller’s tickets tonight, and since I’m not sure when we’ll be able to come to another game, I made sure we stopped by the Comets store for a splurge. I really shouldn’t be buying such expensive stuff right now with my job situation, but I couldn’t help it. I’ll deal with my credit card later.

We make our way to our incredible seats, flopping down into them. Well, I sit; Macie stands, her eyes wide as she looks out at the ice in wonder like she’s seeing it for the first time. I hope she never loses this joy with hockey.

“Put your jersey on, Mom. They’re about to come out of the tunnel.”

“All right, all right.” I dig into the Comets-branded bag and pull my new purchase free. It was entirely too expensive, but Macie insisted I buy it to represent her new favorite player.

And fine, I wanted it too. I want to show him I’m here for him just as much as I’m here for Macie.

“Come on! Let’s go to the glass!”

She takes off down the aisle, and I pull the jersey over my head, following behind her. Just as we press our noses against the cool glass, the music swells and the guys come barreling onto the ice, the goalie leading the pack.

He skates around half the rink, doing a few laps and hitting pucks at the net on each pass. He stops in front of his bench and grabs hold of that familiar green bottle, squirting water into his mouth to spit it back out. He does it four times, then switches to another bottle to start all over. This must be one of his superstitions.

He takes two more laps before stopping in front of his bench again and dropping down on his knees. He kicks his feet out to the sides, moving them back and forth like he’s a frog. He’s just inches from his nether regions touching the ice, and I’ve never seen anyone so flexible in person before. The way he’s able to move like that is insanity. He does this several times, jutting his feet up before dropping back down again, stretching out in ways that shouldn’t be possible. It’s oddly satisfying to watch.

“Crazy, right?”

I look over to find Wright’s wife, Harper, standing beside me. Next to her are Ryan and her sister, Hollis, who is holding her daughter up to the glass so she can watch her dad skate around.

“I didn’t know you were all going to be here tonight!” I squeeze my arms around Harper.

“Yeah, we decided last minute to come. Sometimes it’s hard to get all of us here, and when our schedules aligned, we said screw it.” She hugs me back, then pinches my jersey. “Nice threads.”

My cheeks warm. “Thanks. Macie insisted.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure.” Harper winks, and I know the red on my cheeks deepens. “Where’s Scout?”

“She’s on a deadline. No Emilia tonight either?”

“No. That brat is working like always,” Hollis answers for her best friend. “Rude, if you ask me.”

I laugh. I’m sure she has her hands full trying to keep the program’s media running. Her boyfriend, Smith, used to play for the team, but now that he’s retired, he works as a video coach. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere too.

“I seriously don’t know how he does that. It looks like it hurts.”

I follow Ryan’s eyes to Greer, who is now in front of the goal, stretching once again.

“I bet it comes in handy, though,” Hollis comments, waggling her brows.

I don’t say anything, smiling to myself with my little secret that it does come in handy.

The team fires pucks at Greer, and he blocks every shot that comes his way. He looks good out there, strong and steady.

“It’s going to be a good night,” Macie comments, her eyes not leaving him either. “He looks focused.”

He really does, which is why I’m surprised when he shoves up from the ice and skates right over to us, coming up beside Lowell, who is making faces at his daughter and kissing the glass.

I can’t see his mouth, but there’s no mistaking the spark of joy in Greer’s eyes as he looks at me. I smile at him, and his eyes dip down to my jersey. I spin around, showing him his number on the back. When I turn back, the look on his face is something entirely different than joy—it’s lust. Pure, unfiltered lust. He likes the sight of me wearing the number 29, and dammit, I like wearing it.

He taps his stick against the glass three times, and I have no doubt it’s his way of saying, I can’t wait to take that off you later.

I clench my thighs together, thinking about what’s in store for me. He leaves tonight for another short two-game road trip, and this will be the last time I get to see him before he goes. It’s only four days, but I already know it’s going to feel like a lifetime.

Greer looks down at Macie, then holds up a puck, and she nods enthusiastically. He tosses it over the glass for her, and she catches it, jumping up and down as he skates away.

“Wow. I’ve never seen Greer be nice to a kid before.”

“Me either,” Ryan says, echoing Harper.

“He literally ran away from Freddie,” Hollis says, holding her baby up. The chunky little kid looks so adorable with her headphones on and her dad’s number on her shirt. “How can you run away from something so cute?”

I laugh. “You should have seen him at the school fundraiser. The kids were all over him, and he was eating up the attention.”

“He went to a school fundraiser?” Harper asks. “Greer?”

“Yes. He even funded the entire trip they were trying to raise money for.”

The girls all exchange a look, which I don’t miss, but nobody says anything.

Rhodes and Wright skate over, each saying hi to their wife and tossing Macie a puck before skating off. Warmups come to a close, and Macie bounces back to her seat with three pucks in her hands and a huge grin on her face. We follow her, taking our seats and settling in for a hockey night.

“So,” Harper says, and just the tone of her voice has me on edge. “Anyone else sad the guys are going on a road trip? I mean, it’s short, but man, I’m going to miss Collin.” She sighs longingly.

“I hate it when Adrian leaves.” Ryan sticks her bottom lip out. “It makes that big house of ours feel extra empty, you know?”

“Oooh! We should do a girls’ night, a big sleepover or something. All of us, plus Emilia and Scout. Macie can come too. It’ll be fun,” Hollis suggests.

“And Greer.”

Everyone looks over at my daughter, whose focus is on the bag of goodies I got for her in the team store, not even realizing we’re all staring at her.

“Greer?” Harper asks.

“Yep,” Macie says. “He stays over at our place all the time. Maybe he can come to the slumber party too. He loves them.”

My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest, and despite the cold coming off the ice, my face is hotter than it’s ever been before.

“He never stays for breakfast, though, which makes me sad. My mom makes really good French toast, and I think he’d love it too if he stayed.”

I can just feel the stares from the other ladies burning into the side of my head, but that’s not where my attention is. It’s on my daughter.

“Macie, how do you know Greer has been staying the night?”

Oh god. She hasn’t heard us, has she? I haven’t scarred my daughter for life, right?

“I just do.”

“Macie.”

She finally pulls her face out of the bag, looking up at me. “What?”

“How do you know Greer has been staying the night?”

“I just do.” She lifts her shoulders. “I’ve seen his jacket by the door. One time his hat was on the counter. And because you’re so happy in the mornings. It’s the same kind of happy you are after we spend time with him.”

She says it so matter-of-fact like it’s the most obvious answer in the world, like she’s not blowing my mind right now.

“Was I not supposed to know?” she asks, her brows drawn tightly.

“No, you can know.”

“Oh. Okay. Good, because I like him. I mean, I didn’t at first because he was a jackass, but now he’s not so bad.”

I smile at her. “No, he’s not bad at all.”

She goes back to digging around in the bag, and I sit back in my seat, completely stunned. When did he leave his jacket by the door? When was his hat sitting out for her to see? And am I really happier with Greer around?

Yes.

I am happier with Greer, happier than I’ve ever been before, and it’s not just the sex, either. It’s him. Sure, he’s grumpy sometimes, but he’s also sweet. He loves his mother and treats her like a queen, and he does the same with Macie, even putting up with her weird mac and cheese nights.

And then there’s the way he treats me—like I’m the only person in the room who matters.

I like him. A lot. And I like spending time with him.

“Well,” Harper whispers, leaning over to me. “That was…something.”

I give her a weak smile. “Yeah, it was.”

“Are you two together?”

“Kind of? I mean…”

Her eyes light up. “Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s been…amazing.”

“Eeeek!” She lets out a high-pitched sound. “That’s… Oh, I am so happy for you. And him. It’s about time he found someone.”

“We’re keeping it casual,” I tell her as my eyes sling toward Hollis and Ryan, who are listening intently to our hushed conversation.

“That’s what Collin and I said too, but look at us now.” She flashes her wedding ring. “We’re far from casual.”

“Yeah, but Greer doesn’t believe in love.”

Harper snorts out a laugh. “Oh, honey, I didn’t either. But when you find the right person, weird things happen.”

“Yes, they truly do,” Ryan chimes in, and I know for a fact she’s speaking from experience after marrying Rhodes on a drunken night in Vegas and then staying married to him.

“Trust me,” Hollis says, “sometimes things don’t happen the way you plan, but they turn out really amazing anyway.” She presses a kiss to her daughter’s head, the daughter she wasn’t planning to have, especially not with Lowell, but did anyway.

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out.” Harper squeezes my hand.

I give her a small smile just as the lights dim, and the announcer begins to read the starting lineup. I turn my attention to the ice, but it’s a fruitless effort. All I can think about is Greer.

Am I being foolish by playing this game with him?

He’s been honest from the start about his disdain for love. He doesn’t believe in it, and I’m not stupid enough to think I’m going to be the one to change his mind, not to mention I have a daughter, and he doesn’t like kids. He might have been successful with them at the fundraiser, but that’s entirely different from stepping into a parental role.

Am I insane to keep doing this, knowing I’m getting attached to him? Knowing Macie is getting attached too?

Yes.

I swallow at the truth behind that answer. It’s dangerous, completely reckless, for Macie and for me. I should be protecting her from the inevitable heartbreak that will come when Greer decides we’re too much for him.

“Look!” Macie calls, pointing toward the ice. “There he is!”

Greer skates out, pointing his goal stick right at us. A few heads turn our way, and I try not to die under their curious stares.

The puck is dropped, and the game is underway. The first period is mostly uneventful, neither team scoring, but there is a lot of pushing and shoving around the net, and even Greer gets involved in it. Macie goes with Ryan for snacks during intermission and comes back with her arms loaded down with pretzels, nachos, and a slushie.

“Ryan!” I hiss at her.

“What?” She shrugs, her gorgeous blonde curls bouncing with the movement. “It’s a special night.”

I shake my head, laughing at how easily Ryan was duped into buying Macie everything that caught her eye.

The second period starts off with a bang—literally. Rhodes bounces the puck off the crossbar, the sound echoing around the arena.

“BEASSSST!” Macie shouts in a deep voice, making everyone around us laugh.

I tug her back into her chair by her jersey.

“You’re having entirely too much fun,” I tell her, booping her nose.

A collective gasp spreads through the crowd, and people jump to their feet, their hands over their mouths as a hushed quiet falls over the arena.

“What’s going on?” I mutter, rising.

Macie gasps, pointing at the ice. “Mom! He’s hurt!”

She’s up on her tiptoes, trying to see around the people standing in front of us. It’s the same thing I’m doing, and I’m struggling just as much as she is.

“Who? Who is hurt?”

“Greer!”

The moment she says his name, the crowd in front of us parts, and I see him crumpled on the ice, not moving. Everything in my body is on high alert as I watch him lying there, a player from the other team on top of him.

The player is dragged away by Rhodes, who hauls him to his feet and slams him against the boards. The two of them start fighting and everyone goes nuts around us, but I’m not paying any attention to that. All I can focus on is Greer, who is still down.

Miller helps a trainer to the ice, skating him to the net to attend to Greer. He drops to his knees, talking to the unmoving goaltender. I see Greer nod then the trainer frowns.

Rhodes and the other player get pulled apart, and Wright skates over to tap his defense partner on the head as he heads to the penalty box. Lowell is out there too, helping lift Greer out of the net. Miller grabs him on the other side, and they get him to his feet. Everyone cheers, glad to see him making it off mostly of his own accord. He disappears down the tunnel, and my heart is still sitting in my throat as I fall back into my seat.

“Is he okay, Mom?”

“I don’t know.”

“But he got up. That means he has to be okay, right?”

“I don’t know, Macie.”

I want to reassure her, want to tell her everything is going to be all right and Greer is just going off for protocol and will be back to the bench soon, but I don’t.

I can’t take my eyes off the tunnel he went down. He’s back there, hurt and probably scared. I wish I were with him.

“You can be,” Harper says.

“Huh?” I ask her.

“You can go back there. I’ve done it before with Collin. Come on. I’ll take you.” She grabs my hand, pulling me from my seat.

“Mom!” Macie calls after me.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell her.

Ryan grabs her shoulder. “Greer’s tough as nails. He’s going to be just fine. Let’s watch the game.”

Macie’s worried eyes follow me as I trail behind Harper up the stairs, but she eventually turns her attention back to the ice.

Harper leads me through the arena, only stopping when she steps up to some very official-looking people. She whispers something to them, and they nod.

“Of course,” the older woman says. “Right this way, Mrs. Wright.”

We’re escorted through a door and handed off to another arena worker, then led through a few different hallways. I have no clue where we are, but I can tell we’re going deeper into the building because it’s getting quieter the farther we go.

We stop in front of a door, and I already know it’s where Greer is. I can feel it.

“I’ll wait out here,” Harper says, a soft hand on my back pushing me toward the room.

I take a calming breath, then shove the door open.

“Excuse me, we’re—”

“It’s fine, Doc.”

He dips his head. “I’ll give you two a moment.”

My eyes snap to Greer, and I nearly break at the sight of him. He looks so defeated sitting under the bright lights.

I rush toward him, throwing my arms around him. He winces the moment I touch his right shoulder.

“Sorry,” I murmur, stepping back. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

His voice is gruff. Stern.

“What…” I swallow the lump in my throat, then run my tongue over my lips. “What happened?”

His jaw is set tightly, and I hear the bed creak as he tightens his grip on the edge of the table. “That fucker barreled over me.”

“I––”

A couple of different instruments go flying across the room. It happens so fast I don’t even realize it’s Greer who threw them until I look back at him, his nostrils flaring and his breathing heavy. I’ve seen this crazed look before, and I think I hate it even more now than I did then.

“He just fucking mowed me over, didn’t even try to pull up and go another way. Ran right fucking into me.”

His voice grows louder with each word, his chest heaving, his usually bright green eyes turning darker by the second.

“Why would he—”

“Because he’s a fucking idiot!” Greer yells, and I flinch at the outburst. He’s so deep in his anger that I don’t think he sees it. “My fucking shoulder had to be reset, and I’m out at least two weeks. Two fucking weeks!”

He punctuates each word with a gnash of his teeth. He’s upset, and I get why, but it doesn’t make it any easier to see him like this—so out of control with his emotions, so angry. It’s hard to watch because it reminds me so much of everything I left behind all those years ago.

“Why are you back here?” he barks.

I hate that he’s even asking me that question like I don’t have a right to know he’s okay after everything between us. It feels like a knife to my gut because all it does is solidify that this thing between us really does mean nothing.

I’m just the girl he’s screwing, and that’s it.

I blink away the tears threatening and clear my throat. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. Macie was—”

“I’m not okay,” he interrupts, so much ire in his voice. “My goddamn shoulder is hurting like a motherfucker. I’m sitting in here with you and not out on the ice like I want to be.”

I don’t know what to say to him, not when he’s like this, so I don’t say anything at all. I just stand there, staring at him as he seethes at the ground, his shoulders rising and falling in rapid succession as he sucks in breath after breath.

I hate seeing him like this, not just because of my past but because I don’t want him to be hurt. I don’t want his season to be jeopardized, especially not when he’s doing so well. He lives for hockey, and I want him to have that for a long time.

I stand there for a while, probably longer than I should, given how he’s spoken to me since I walked in, but I can’t seem to move. The doctor comes back into the room, pulling both of our attention.

“I need to check him out some more,” he says, a clear dismissal of me.

“I’ll leave.”

“Wait.”

I turn back to Greer, slowly lifting my eyes to his, afraid of what I’m going to see, afraid of what he’s going to say.

“Stevie, I’m…”

He trails off, not saying any more, and I don’t wait around for him to gather his words. I spin on my heel and breeze out the door, barely able to hold back the tears threatening to spill once I cross the threshold.

“Hey!” Harper calls out, racing to catch up to me as I speed-walk down the hall. “Is he okay?”

I nod. “He’ll be fine.”

“Hey…” She grabs my wrist, pulling me to a stop. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s his shoulder.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I mean with you. Are you okay?”

It’s such a simple question, one that shouldn’t have any effect on me, but it does. It’s all it takes for the dam to break and the tears to tumble down my cheeks.

“Oh, Stevie,” Harper hums, pulling me into her arms. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“He didn’t even want me there.”

“Shh.” She rubs my back. “He did. He’s just upset. Give him time to cool down. It’ll be okay.”

For the first time in a while, it really doesn’t feel like it might be okay.