Page 24 of Breakout (Walker University #3)

seventeen

I t’s regionals, and Walker U is kicking ass.

All they need to do is win one more game to get into the last round of games being played in a couple of weeks.

I took the weekend off of work so I could be here for them.

It’s a bracket-style system with sixteen teams competing until we get down to the final four.

Those four teams will then go on to compete in the semifinals before the final championship game.

Beckett has been stressed out about it. While they are playing well, it’s like he has a weight on his shoulders.

It’s why I’m here. I might not want to admit this thing is real between us, but I felt a pull to be here for him the same way he kept showing up for me. I want to match his energy. Give him as much as he is giving me.

It almost feels like what I imagine a relationship should be like.

“This place is huge,” Cora whispers.

She’s right. Tonight’s game is being held at the Boston Foxes’ arena. It’s so different from the one back at school. This one holds nineteen thousand fans.

“This is a whole new world,” Grace whispers. “Clay will be playing in one of these places next year. I don’t think I realized how real it is until just now.”

I reach over, squeezing her shoulder.

I know what she means. The idea that Beckett will also be playing in an arena next year is surreal to me. Will he end up here or maybe across the county? We won’t know until June.

A little part of me wants him here. I still have two years left of school. It’s selfish, but for once I want something for me.

I want him.

“Is that another Hayes jersey I’m seeing?” Cora turns me so Grace can see.

I gave Beckett back his jersey after the last game, so I went out and bought myself a new one.

“I told you I wasn’t spending any more money, so yes. Hayes is my new jersey.” I try to play it nonchalantly.

“Oh, come on. Stop lying to yourself. You have the hots for him,” Cora presses.

“Yeah, you barely hang out anymore, and neither does he. You might think you are being sneaky, but I saw you two the other day at the coffee shop.”

I swallow hard. Have we been being careless?

“So friends can’t get coffee anymore?” I throw back.

“Fair point. If that’s all it is, then we will let it go, but I still think there’s something there. If you aren’t exploring it, you should,” Grace says.

“Ooh, let me write his number on your cheek. You’ll match us.” Cora pulls out her eyeliner.

I act reluctant, but the truth is as soon as I saw them do it, I wanted to have his number, 23, painted on me too. It feels like a claim to him. Something showing he is mine.

“Fine.”

I turn my cheek, my eyes on the ice. When she finishes, she pulls me in.

“Selfie.”

After she takes the photo, my phone dings as she sends it to me.

Opening my phone, I stare at it.

I look like I belong. Like I’m one of them. For the first time in a long time, I’m truly happy.

Shooting the picture to Beckett, I include a kissy face.

He responds almost immediately.

Beck

Looking beautiful. Sure love seeing my number on your skin. Maybe we can tattoo it there.

I snort, replying.

Me

In your dreams. No way is your number being tattooed anywhere on my body, least of all my face.

Beck

A man can hope. Wish me luck. I’ve got to get out to warm-ups.

Me

Good luck. Win it for me, hubby.

When I look up, I find Grace and Cora smiling at me.

“What?”

They shake their heads.

“Nothing. You look good is all. Oh, here come the guys.” Grace says.

I turn toward the ice, my heart racing in my chest. When I see him, I feel like it skips a beat. I don’t even notice anyone else as I keep my eyes glued to him as he searches the stands. I know the moment he sees me. I can feel his eyes lock onto me. Then he smiles big.

Twirling, I show him my back before turning back to him.

He looks so pleased, and that feeds a part of my soul I didn’t know existed. I feel good when I make him happy.

He holds up his hand and taps his ring finger, and I know what he’s saying.

Wife.

I’m his wife.

“Well, that’s a new development. What does that mean?” Grace asks as he skates off.

“It’s an inside joke,” I tell her, not able to keep the smile off my face.

“Whatever it is, I like the way it makes you smile. Carefree looks good on you, Pey,” Cora adds.

They let the topic fall as they each give attention to their own guys. Then the guys clear the ice, the national anthem is sung, and the game starts.

I never watched hockey before I met Grace. In fact, the first game I had ever been to was the one we went to when she still thought she was in love with Kellan.

Now I’m addicted. It’s so fast-paced. You have to keep your eye on the ice at all times, otherwise, you will miss something. It gets your blood pumping as you sit on the edge of your seat.

We score first, Clay scoring with Beckett getting the assist. We are screaming and cheering as we hug one another. Then they score, making us chew our nails with worry. The puck flies back and forth down the ice until the buzzer signals the end of the first period.

“Anyone want anything?” Grace asks.

I shake my head, sitting in my chair as I wait on pins and needles for the next period to start.

When it does, I’m back on the edge of my seat watching with rapt attention.

The second period comes and goes without anyone scoring.

I start throwing up prayers that the guys win.

They’ve worked so hard for this. I know the other team has too, but I want my guy to win.

So selfish, and yet I still pray for it.

If it wasn’t rude to stand the whole game, I would have been on my feet, but I stay in my seat as the third period starts. Beckett is on the ice first with Kellan. He flies down the ice, tossing the puck toward Kellan.

Kellan flicks it back to Beckett. They do this twice more. On the third pass, a player from the other team slams Beckett into a wall, making him crumple to the ground.

I gasp, tears filling my eyes as I fly to my feet, leaning over the seats in front of me.

Kellan takes off his gloves, pushing the other player into the glass. They get into a scuffle as Beckett gets to his feet and skates off the ice. Kellan earns himself a penalty, but so does the other guy for the unnecessary hit.

I stare at the back of Beckett’s head as the team doctor looks over him.

“He’s going to be okay.” Cora wraps her arm in mine.

“I know,” I say, but my eyes still don’t leave him.

The game goes on, but my only focus is my husband. What would I even do if he ended up in the hospital? I’m his emergency contact now, right? I make all the decisions about his health and care. I haven’t even asked him what he would want.

Fuck. This is too much pressure for me.

I’m spiraling when he finally turns. His eyes find mine, and he gives me a small smile.

I take a deep breath, letting the tension melt away.

He’s fine.

Thank God he’s fine.

I honestly have no idea what I would do without him.

That was one hell of a game. We had to claw our way to the win, but we did win. We made it to the semifinals.

I could have done without the bruised ribs, but it’s the price of the game. It’s why hockey is one of the more violent sports. You put knives on the bottom of shoes and ask players to give it their all to land a tiny puck into the net.

This isn’t the first time I’ve bruised my ribs, nor will it be the last. Not if I keep playing.

Still, the worry on Peyton’s face damn near killed me.

I looked up at her for some comfort. I figured she would be watching the game, and I could sneak a glimpse of her.

Instead, her eyes were locked on me. The worry lines on her face told me that she wasn’t okay.

I wanted to reach out and hold her. Reassure her that I am fine.

I will continue to be fine. I won’t abandon her.

I couldn’t, though, so I settled on a smile. I felt like a king when her worry seemed to melt away.

Now the game is over, most of the guys have left, and I’m still stuck here.

“How much longer is this going to take?” I ask Jim, our doctor on staff.

“You got a hot date or something? All the way down here in Boston?” he teases, wrapping my ribs.

I’m still pissed about it too. It was preventable. The guy didn’t have to slam me into the boards, but I could see the frustration on his face. He wasn’t playing his best game, so he took it out on me.

Kellan got some licks in for me, but fuck if I wouldn’t have loved my own.

“I’ve got a girl waiting on me,” I admit.

He smiles. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer then. You’re all set. Take some ibuprofen and rest. I know you have a pretty little thing waiting, but no activities. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

I climb off of the table, grabbing my bags. I’m glad he let me shower before he dressed me all up.

Pulling out my phone, I shoot a text to Peyton.

Me

Where are you?

I hope she’s at the hotel with the girls and still awake. I need to see her. Hold her in my arms. That will help ease some of the anger I feel. The pain will go away eventually too.

Wife

By my car, waiting for you in the parking lot.

My heartbeat picks up. She waited for me? I know she looked worried, but I didn’t expect her to wait. It would raise so many questions from our friends.

I don’t question it, though. Instead, I pick up my pace, ignoring the ache in my ribs as I do. When I make it to the parking lot, I find her leaning against her car.

“Where is everyone?” I ask, walking closer.

“At the hotel.” She straightens from the car.

I drop my bags, opening my arms. She runs to me, hitting me with some force, making me groan, but I hold her to me tightly.

“I’m sorry.” She tries to pull back, but I refuse to let her.

This is what I needed. I inhale deeply, loving the jasmine scent of her shampoo. It has a calming effect for me.

“Are you okay?” she whispers.

I kiss the top of her head. “A little banged up, but I’m okay.”

“Well, let’s get you to the hotel then.” She attempts to grab my bag, huffing when she realizes how heavy it is. “Jesus, are there rocks in here?”

“Hockey gear isn’t light. I got it. Pop the trunk.”

She does as I ask. I fit my stuff inside before going to the passenger seat.

The hotel isn’t a far drive. We could have honestly walked, but I’m glad we didn’t. Boston at night isn’t always the safest place to be, and I’d rather not risk Peyton. Not when I’m not one hundred percent.

Once we park at the hotel, I meet her at the front of the car, wrapping my arm around her in spite of the pain.

I keep waiting for her to tell me to not touch her. That someone will get the wrong idea, but she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she leads me to the elevator, selecting a floor.

“I’m on the eighteenth,” I tell her.

She looks up at me. “I’m on the fourteenth. I figured you’d stay with me tonight. Kellan is with Cora.”

I wince as I think about how painful it will be to have sex, but I’m willing to suck it up for her. Anything for her.

“Yeah. You might have to do some of the work, but I’ll stay,” I tell her.

She frowns at me as the elevator dings open. “We aren’t having sex, Beck. You’re hurt.”

“Oh.” I follow her to the room, watching as she unlocks it. “I thought with the rules and all.”

She lets me inside the room, closing the door behind me. “Don’t be dense. The rules haven’t been followed for a long time.”

I swallow hard at her words. Could that mean she is actually falling for me? Is this real?

She squashes all hope with the next sentence. “At least as long as we are married, they haven’t been. Go get comfy. I’ll order room service, and then we can watch a movie.”

I do as she asks, listening as she orders some burgers with fries. I strip out of my clothes until I’m down to my boxers. Then I climb onto the bed under the blankets.

When she’s done, she moves around the room as she strips down. She leaves my jersey on but pulls her pants and bra off. Then she climbs on the bed next to me, handing me the remote.

Then her hands trace the bandages on my ribs.

“What’s the diagnosis?” she asks.

“Bruised ribs. It will hurt for a bit, but it will go away. I’ll be fine.”

She nods before leaning down and placing light kisses along the bandages.

It chokes me up a bit. I know logically it’s doing nothing, but I feel like I’m being healed with each touch of her lips.

When she’s done, she settles on my chest. “All better.”

I don’t argue with her. I do feel all better, and it’s all because of the woman in my arms.