Page 16

16

RILEY

“ I s that too tight?” Evan, the athletic trainer, asks while taping up my ankle.

I flex my foot and roll my ankle around. “Nope. It’s good.”

He finishes wrapping and hops up from his spot.

“Thank you.” I tell him and head back over to my locker. Locker is stretching it. It’s more of a small open coat closet. I dress out and put on my skates, checking my phone before I lace up and head out to the rink for warm-ups.

Even though this is a preseason game, the fans usually come out in massive groups to watch us play. It’s always better this way. Seeing the fans get pumped for hockey. They love it just as much as we do. And that always energizes us to play better.

I join the guys on the ice and drop down to do my stretches. Even though we do these stretches daily, my muscles still pull tight and I groan when I stretch out my groin and hamstrings.

“Girlfriend here?” Max asks .

“What?” Logan and Noah ask at the same time.

I curse Max in my head for ousting me. “She should be here soon and she’ll be sitting with Momma and Pops,” I move into a hamstring stretch but don’t hear anything from them. “What!?” I ask when I notice them looking at me.

“Back it up. Girlfriend? How is it that Max knows but we don’t?” Noah questions.

“I didn’t tell him. How do you know?” I point my question to Max.

“My cousin works as a valet at Hotel LaRoux and saw you with her in the parking lot. He wasn’t sure since you never said anything. But this just confirmed it.”

If I had my phone, I’d send a quick text to Sarah that we’ve been spotted. “Yes, she’s my girlfriend. No, you don’t know her. And no, she doesn’t have any siblings.”

Logan drops down into the splits. As our goalie he needs to be more limber than the rest of us. “She’s meeting the fam already. That’s a pretty big step.”

“Is that wrong? I’ve never had a girlfriend during the season, so I have no clue how to navigate it.” Spilling my guts on the ice before a game, definitely isn’t the smartest move. But I’m not lying when I say that I’ve never dated anyone during the season. So navigating when to meet the parents is new territory for me.

“Well,” Max starts. “My older sister hid her now husband when they were dating for months. I mean, it helped as she was out of state for college. So coming home to introduce him to us wasn’t exactly convenient.”

“Huh,” I start as I gather the rest of my thoughts. “Well, I think she can handle herself.”

At least I hope she can. Because if it were me and I had to unexpectedly meet my fake girlfriend's parents, I’d probably freeze like a deer in headlights. But Sarah is tough. She has to be for the job she’s in. And that’s exactly like what our relationship is. A job. Suddenly the idea of us faking doesn’t seem so appealing with the way I think about it. It’s clinical and straightforward. Two things I never would have classified myself as.

The guys and I finish up our stretches and jump in with the rest of the team to do light shooting and defensive drills. After a while, our coach whistles for us to head back to the locker room to dress out for the game. Coach gives us a pep talk. If “Don’t get your asses kicked” constitutes as a pep talk, then I guess that’s it. When we’re dressed out, we all waddle back out to the ice for our roster call.

I’m usually able to block out the noise during this time. Sometimes the crowd calling out or heckling us ruins my focus. But not this time. Last season I probably deserved the call out. This season not so much. The roar of the crowd fuels me and I take a moment to let my eyes wander over those in the crowd.

Noah taps me on the helmet before skating over to Max and doing the same. He skates to center ice and readies for the face off. In the blink of an eye, his persona changes from the Noah I know off the ice and the Noah on the ice. He’s one of the best centers I’ve worked with and he’s quick. Quicker than your average hockey player. My adrenaline is pumping through my veins and it’s as if the game starts so fast that by the time I breathe, we’re up 1 goal.

My line retires for a couple of plays before we’re switching back out in the second period. Florida came out with a fire lit under their asses. Even with this being a preseason game, we’ve been fighting to gain possession more than we’ve needed to. Noah manages to get control of the puck before he drives down the ice and with a flick of his wrist, the puck sails into the back of the net.

“Good game tonight, guys,” Anderson says from the middle of the locker room. “We have some things to work on, but for the most part we’re just about regular season ready.”

We all pound our sticks on the locker room floor and cheer.

“Settle down, settle down. Next preseason game is in three days so no practice tomorrow. But, I want you all to do something light to move your bodies. Sitting around and letting yourself get sore doesn’t do any of us any favor. Now hit the showers.”

We all move at once. I set my stick in my locker and unlace my skates to the chatter of Max and Noah making plans.

“Are you sure we can’t convince you to come out with us?” Noah asks.

I groan involuntarily when I tug my jersey and pads off. “Positive. I’ve got a girl and parents to get to.”

I walk towards the shower with their teasing quips in the background. Calling Sarah my girl makes the fake feel not so fake. But it needs to be. It’s fake. We are fake. As much as I drill it into my head, I can’t help but want to screw the rule we set in place. Because every touch, every glance, and every moment spent together blurs the fake to where it feels real. I hurry through my shower, but make sure I’m extra clean and once I’m dry, I throw on some street clothes of black jeans, a gray hoodie, and some black Timberland boots.

“I’m out.” I say to the guys after I roughly towel dry my hair. Tossing the towel into the hamper, I sling my duffel bag over my shoulder and make my way to the box seats.

Look, I’m nervous. I know I shouldn’t be. I’m just going to meet my fake girlfriend who’s been hanging out with my parents for the last few hours. Shit! I speed walk down the hall and head towards the elevator. I mash the button several times, even knowing that it won’t get here faster. As soon as the car lands and opens, I press the number ‘3’ and close the doors. My fingers tap in rapid succession against my thigh as the car swiftly takes me to the top floor.

I exit to the right and follow the murmur of animated conversation and muffled laughter until I reach the family box. I was hoping that most of the other WAGS would be gone, but it seems they’re all waiting around as well.

“Honey,” I hear a familiar voice callout. I see Momma waving her hand and make my way to them. My steps falter when I see Sarah donned in the shirt I purchased for her with thigh high black boots and a three-inch heel.

“Good game, Riley,” Pops says with a kiss to the top of my head.

“Thanks, Pops. Hi, Momma.” I say, and greet her with a kiss to her cheek.

“The team is looking great,” Momma tells me when she steps back. Sarah points to the chair behind her and I set my duffel next to her purse.

I nod in agreement. “We have some things to work on. But overall I think this is going to be a good season.” I turn to the spitfire next to me and focus on the twinkle in her eyes. “Hi, baby.”

A flush comes to her cheeks as she meets my gaze. “Hi.”

I snort and wrap my arm around her shoulders. My lips fall to her temple and my heart slows down with her back in my arms. I angle my head to speak low into her ear. “You look hot as hell. And the boots? God damn, baby. I almost had to walk back out into the hallway.”

I hear her breath hitch and she wraps an arm around my waist and slides her free hand into the front pocket of my hoodie. A throat clearing pulls us out of our small bubble.

“Sorry,” I say, facing my parents. “I see you three have already met.” I slide my hand into my hoodie pocket and hook a finger around one of Sarah’s.

“Mm hmm. Your Momma showed me all sorts of pictures of you as a kid.” Sarah speaks up and traces the palm of my hand with her fingers sending shivers down my spine.

I narrow my eyes at her and turn my attention to my parents who are wearing twin amused faces. “Did you two see Mischa and the kids?”

“Yes. We’re having them over for dinner tonight. So we should probably head out soon,” Momma looks at Pops and I know she’s silently warning him that they can’t stay for more than five minutes. Pops is a certified yapper once he gets warmed up.

He lets out a sigh. “Momma’s right. Sarah, it was so lovely meeting you,” he tells her.

She untangles herself from my embrace and moves to hug him. “It was so amazing to meet you, Dean.”

“Get this boy out of his shell, would you?”

“Oh, please. I can never get him to stop talking,” Sarah retorts.

Pops whispers something to her that has her looking at me in confusion. Her smile dims just slightly as she nods her head and Pops kisses her on the cheek.

Sarah steps over to Momma. “Cassie, you are an actual doll.”

“Come over to the house and we’ll bake one day. ”

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” Sarah says, and moves in to hug Momma.

I’m a pool of emotion that I’m not sure which to pick out. Sarah and my parents bonding that fast during the game is not something I expected. Maybe I should have let my parents know that the relationship I’m in is fake. Because knowing them, even if I introduced her as a friend, they’d still play matchmaker. My parents finally say goodbye to me and after an extended goodbye to a few of the other parents in the box, they’re finally out of the door.

“I thought you were nervous to meet them?”

Sarah wraps her arms back around my waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to do. And to the others still lingering in the family box, it is. “I was. First off, you should’ve shown me a picture of your parents so I knew what they looked like.”

“I thought about that as we were warming up. And by then it was too late,” I start and move a piece of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear. “But it seems they found you regardless.”

“They did and I like them a lot. Which scares me,” she admits and rests her chin on my chest.

“It will be fine.” I reassure her and kiss her on the tip of her nose. I look around the box and realize it’s mostly cleared out. “Let’s get out of here.”

I move around her and grab my duffel and hand Sarah her purse.

“So I think I finally have a grip on hockey.” She says, taking my offered hand as we walk out into the hallway.

“Oh yeah?” I ask and press the door for the elevator. “Was I in the sin-bin?”

“I said think , smartass. I still have a long way to go in terms of being fluent. But I’m hoping that sitting with your parents will help me learn the sport better.”

The elevator opens and we file inside. Sarah takes one side and I take the other after pressing the button for the ground floor. I finally get to take a look at her without my parents in the vicinity. Starting at her thigh high black stiletto boots, to the Blue Jays shirt dress that stops a couple of inches above her boots, and to the black purse that hangs off her shoulder and her softly curled hair. She plays the role of a WAG perfectly. And I thank divine intervention that the guys weren’t up in the box with me.

“I wanna take you somewhere,” I tell her as the elevator descends to the ground floor.

“Do I need to change?”

“Nope. But we are going to drop your car off at my apartment.” I push off the wall and hold my hand out to her as the doors open. Sarah takes my offering and weaves her fingers in between mine like she’s done it for months. Whether it’s for anyone from the game who’s still lingering or if holding my hand is as natural as breathing, I don’t question it. Turns out our PDA is more for the lingering team and puck bunnies. Murmurs follow us as we walk out to the parking lot and I have no doubt a picture of us will end up online.

“Where’s your car?” I ask Sarah as we near mine in the lot.

“About that. I maybe, kind of, sort of Uber’ed here.” She tells me and swings our arms back and forth.

“Oh, did you now?”

“Uh huh. How weird would it look if we drove home separately? I just saved us both the rumors.”

We make it to my car and I open the door for her. “Get in ya goof. ”

She sneaks a kiss on my lips before she steps onto the running boards and I smack her on the butt as she’s sliding in. I leave her with a parting wink and head around to the back to toss my duffle bag in. I slide in the driver's seat and start up my car. The sun is just setting as I peel out of the parking lot and head east towards the lake.

About halfway through the drive, we stop and pick up chopped salads before continuing on our trek.

“Favorite food?” I ask, when I get off on the exit towards the lake.

“Easy. French fries,” Sarah answers with no hesitation.

I quickly look over at her and turn back to the road with a smile on my face. “Okay. What kind of french fries?”

“Brace yourself, Riley. Because this is one of my favorite topics.”

I shrug my shoulders and roll my head around like I’m preparing to head into a boxing ring. “Alright I’m ready,” I say through our mutual laughter.

“I love bar fries. You know the ones with the sort of flaky outside? I love those the most. Waffle fries hold a lot of dip, so I don’t count those out. A crinkle cut fry that’s crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside is so good,” she stops when she sees me looking at her for the tenth time in the last four minutes of her rambling. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just nice to find you have flaws,” I state jokingly.

“Take that back!” She lightly swats at me.

“Look, I’m not judging. But I think it’s cute.”

“Cute,” she scoffs. “So, I like french fries. I’m sure you like something that’s at an almost unhealthy level.”

I think hard about something that isn’t hockey related. “Hmm. Do cats count? ”

“Riley, I’ve seen that cat room. So I know your obsession is strong. But no. That doesn’t count.”

I flip the lever for the turn signal and pull into the lakes parking lot. Several other cars are parked out here so I’m glad I wasn’t the only one with this idea. I find a spot that’s got the best view of the horizon and shift the car into park.

“Hmm. I can’t say I have any unhealthy obsession like you do. Although, fries, I could obsess over them with you.”

“Paws off, buddy,” she jokes and dishes out our food. “What are we doing here anyways?”

“Have you ever seen the Northern Lights?” I ask and shake my salad container to distribute the dressing evenly.

“No,” she sighs wistfully and then shakes up her own salad container. “But it’s always been a bucket list goal of mine to cross off.”

“Well, you’re in luck. Reports are saying that we’ll be able to see them.”

“Really?” Her face lights up as if I told her I was bringing the moon to her.

“Yeah. I figured it would be something fun to do. And since we’re friends…?” I trail off and look at her.

“Yeah, we’re friends.” She says with less conviction.

“Perfect. Since we’re friends, I figured this would be a fun thing to see together.”

“Touché.” She starts and opens up her salad.

We eat in companionable silence with the windows partly rolled down to let the early October breeze float through the car. I smile as I watch kids running back and forth along the lakeshore. A pang of jealousy hits as I realize my childhood was stripped away the night I lost my parents. I’m sure I don’t laugh as freely as I used to. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I felt free. Shaking my head, I swiftly finish the rest of my food and place my empty container in the plastic bag it came in. Sarah follows suit not long after.

My dour mood is thick in the car and I hate it. I continue looking out at the water, adapting my breathing techniques from the doctors.

“Riley?” Sarah asks quietly. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I was just watching those kids running and it hit me that I didn’t get that as a kid.” My honesty hits her.

Sarah shuffles around in her seat until her boots are off and she’s turned towards me with her legs crossed. “Tell me more about your parents.”

“Dad was a history teacher at the local high school. It was his favorite thing to talk about, next to hockey and my mom. But history was his number one and his dream was to eventually teach at the local university. That's how much he loved history and he wanted a bigger way to spread that love. My mom owned a yoga studio and it came in really handy for her when I started playing hockey. Dad was always chewing gum to try and quit smoking and mom always smelled of fresh roses and clean laundry. Those were three of my favorite scents and I–I can’t remember the last time I had those scents hit my senses.” My brow furrows when I realize it’s been over a decade since I had them around. “I just miss them. Their warmth, their presence, the way they made everyday an adventure. Whether it was drop-offs at school or heading to hockey practice. I’m always hit with the what-ifs when I wonder what my life would be like if my parents were still alive. But then I’d never have gotten to know Momma and Pops the way I have.”

We sit in the front seats not saying a word. Because what is there to say?

“I was right last night,” Sarah says from beside me. I look over and see her observing me with her chin propped on her fist.

“About what?” Last night is a blur. And add on the game, I have no clear distinction about what we talked about.

“About love. The love you feel for your parents is evident in the way you memorialize them.”

Sarah and I share a look. Whether it’s about love, loss, or life, I feel she understands in a way no one else in my life does.

“You know I was wary about you being my publicist,” I confess.

“Why? Afraid I’d throw myself at you? Or because I’m a woman.”

I cringe. “A little bit of both. No offense.”

“After being in this line of work for a while, I unfortunately got used to it. I mean, I shouldn’t. The men who think I can’t handle male athletes are the ones who are crying at the end of the day.”

“You are quite the ballbuster,” I joke.

“For a good reason,” she defends.

I’m about to agree with her when we hear commotion outside. We both turn in that direction and my eyes grow wide while I hear a gasp from Sarah. The lights have appeared in the night sky and we both fumble to get out of the car for an unobstructed view. I’ve never seen anything like this. And the oohs and aahs from up and down the shore express the same sentiment. Sarah and I stand next to each other, leaning against the front of my car, as the lights flow in front of us. I peek over at her and see the most blissful look on her face since the first time we met. The colors lightly bounce off her face and her joy is this tangible thing that I want to hold onto forever .

“Bucket list item crossed off?” I ask while fully looking at her.

“Yeah,” she sighs dreamily while still looking up at the lights. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

“I have.”

She turns to me and playfully rolls her eyes. But I don’t miss the blush that rises to her cheeks. Sarah turns back to the lights and I don’t miss the way she crosses her arms over her chest. It’s then I realize she’s only in her boots that she put on fast and her dress from the game.

“Do you want to go back in the car?” I ask.

“And see the lights through the window? No way,” she protests. “I’m fine out here for a bit longer.” She tells me and I don’t miss her chattering teeth.

I shake my head and pull her in front of me and wrap my arms around her. Her body shakes from the chill and my body heat mixes for the first few seconds before she twines her hands around my arms.

“Better?” I ask when she’s breathing steadier.

“Yeah. Thank you.” Sarah tells me and rests her body back against me with her head falling back to my shoulder. Even in her heeled boots she barely comes to my chin and I like that I can dwarf her in size. It’s like I can be her protector no matter what.

We stay like this, locked around each other watching the lights as they dance through the sky with cheerful laughter from kids still running along the shore. Soon, families disappear one by one until only us and a few couples are left. Exhaustion slams into me and I can’t hold back the yawn that escapes from my throat.

“Are you ready to head back?” I ask.

I peek around and see her eyes at half-mast as well. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Sarah steps away from me and wanders to the passenger side. I follow closely behind and beat her to the door to open it for her. She gives me a tired smile, before climbing to her seat. I round the back of the car and see the last car pull out of the lot.

Today was a whirlwind. And as I drive home, I hope that coming out here tonight was another tick in the ‘pro’ column to why Sarah and I could be a good match. The adventure and ease at which we exist together is why the fake dating doesn’t feel fake anymore.