Page 70
Story: Daring the Defender
He grins at me, and my cheeks burn red at the attention, but one by one the kids drop their trash into the bin, and stop to tell me thank you.
“You’re welcome,” I tell each and every one, until the kids are gone and suddenly a line of hulking hockey players is standing in front of me.
“Thanks, Shel,” Emerson says, giving me a cheeky grin.
One by one they file through, until Axel appears in front of me. “I keep telling you, cleaning up after everyone isn’t your job.”
I cross my arms and glare at him. “I could say the same to you.”
He smirks and lunges for me, grabbing me in a ridiculous bear hug. I fight against him, but he’s obnoxious and refuses to let go until Nadia drags him away.
“Thanks,” I tell her, straightening my shirt.
After the last player comes through, I’m disappointed that Reid never came up. I look around for him, but don’t see him anywhere. It’s probably for the best. The less we interact in public the better.
The parents sit down for a meeting about local teams the kids can join. Nadia excuses herself to go to the restroom and I spot Twyler waving across the room.
“I’m finished,” Twyler says, lingering by a door that leads to the locker rooms, “and the rest of the time is pretty much for the foster families and kids. If you’re ready to head out, I just need to grab my stuff and then we can go out the back door. Nadia said she’d meet us out there.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“You going into work today?”
“No.” I follow her down the stairs. “Since it’s a bye week Mike doesn’t think they’ll have too big of a crowd.”
At the bottom of the stairs is a set of double doors with an image of the badger mascot and the word Wittmore painted across the top. Using a keycard, Twyler unlocks the door and we enter the player’s area. Noisy voices come from down the hall and she says, “That’s the screening room where they’re meeting with the kids. You can wait out here for me. I need to put away a few things and grab my stuff.”
She dips into the doorway of a room that has the word “Training Room” overhead. Down the hall I hear Reese encourage everyone to quiet down. Curious, I walk down the hall and peek into the room. I’d heard my brother and the guys talk about watching film, but I didn’t really process that they basically have a movie theater of their own. Today the kids have claimed all of the comfy looking seats, and the players stand against the edge of the room. To my surprise, it’s not Reese at the front of the room, or even Coach Bryant.
It’s Reid.
“I know it may be hard to believe, but I was once a scrawny kid sitting in the same seat as you are right now. Well,” he grins, looking out at the group, “not the sameexactseat, they upgraded those a few years ago, but I came to the Wittmore Family Day with my foster parents.”
There’s a small murmur of surprise and not just from the kids. From some of Reid’s teammates, too.
“I’d been through a lot of homes. Eight, actually. And I’d finally landed in one where the parents decided that instead of finding me too energetic or tough to deal with, they’d find an outlet for me. It was tough. I was way behind everyone else who had been playing since they were four-years-old and attending training camps every year. But something about it just clicked,and my teammates and coaches, they all became a second and third family.”
Reid turns around showing the back of his jersey. His name, Wilder, stitched above the number 08. “It took eight homes.” Turning back he adds, “When I got to Wittmore I was able to request a number. I asked for eight. I didn’t want to forget those days, but I also wanted it as a reminder of how much I went through to get somewhere safe and stable. To find the right team.” His eyes flit up, meeting mine, and I realize that he knows that I’m here and watching. “Hockey may not be the right sport for you, but somewhere out there is the right family, the right team, and you’ll make it your own.”
Again he looks past everyone else, gaze holding mine. I feel a warmth, something unfamiliar but also right. So, incredibly right.
It’s in that moment, when Reid is revealing himself for the kids, his teammates and me that I realize what that feeling is.
Love.
I’m in love with Reid Wilder.
“You ready?” I didn’t hear Twyler walk up. Not with the pounding of my heart in my ears. “Shelby?” I blink, dragging my eyes away from Reid as he continues to speak to the kids, over to Twyler. There’s a line across her forehead. “Are you okay?”
I nod, but I’m unable to say the words, because I’m not sure that I am.
21
Reid
“Thanks for dinner.”We’re standing outside of Deion’s, a nice restaurant just off the strip. Mom and Dad wanted to get in a good meal before they got back on the road. “And for coming, it was good to see you.”
“You know we wouldn’t miss it.” Mom glances over at Ronnie. “Your sister would’ve been crushed. She loves coming up to see you, too.”
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