Page 51 of Unmasking Love (D.C. Renegades #1)

Harper

Fever Dreams

I don’t know how I got here.

I mean, I do. I drove. But I didn’t intend to.

I left the interview with a smaller real estate group an hour ago and set my navigation to Wes’s house.

Instead I’m parked at the arena with the family pass in one hand. My phone in the other.

I press play, again, on the voicemail he left this afternoon.

Harper, shit. Your outgoing message is starting to affect me. I realized today that I haven’t said the words I was planning to. The words that I was afraid would send you running. But you’ve run anyway. So I need to tell you. I hope with my entire heart that you hear them. Harper, I love you.

He loves me.

I press play again.

The hissed curse at the start is laden with pain. Exhaustion. He doesn’t sound like himself and I hate that he’s distraught over me.

Maybe that’s what drove me here tonight.

Maybe it was his admission that he was holding back. That my instincts were right.

But also very wrong.

He wasn’t holding back from breaking up with me.

He was holding back confessing his love.

Another tear leaks ou t of the corner of my eye and with a few rapid blinks and a quick flick of my finger it’s gone. With another centering breath I turn off the car and climb out.

I only pivot back to the car twice before setting my shoulders with determination and going inside.

The elevator to the family suite is just ahead. My season ticket section is to my left. Instead I take the escalator with the thousands of Renegades fans and settle in at the 300 level bar that overlooks the ice.

Maybe in the second period I’ll feel ready to go to my seats.

I learn from the pregame show that’s playing over the bar that Aiden will be going in at the start of the second period.

Part of the plan to ease Gavin back into playing condition.

I wonder if Aiden is worried about it? I hate that I don’t know.

That I haven’t been there for him these last few weeks.

The game begins and I watch Aiden watch from the bench.

I remember seeing him there for the first time all those months ago. Were we different people back then?

I was desperate to make a relationship work. He was focused on getting playing time and not getting too close to anyone.

He helped me learn to be myself in our relationship. He forced me to do my own thing while he did his. And when I would have thought before that meant our relationship was doomed because we didn't have things in common, it turns out we have a stronger relationship because of our differences.

I smile to myself as the play continues down on the ice. Gavin makes a save and the arena cheers for him. The jumbotron cuts to the bench and I catch Aiden. He's clapping but his face looks a little pale.

I’ve learned a lot about the game, about the team, since that first practice. When Aiden stepped up after Christmas he talked about feeling like he was a part of things. They wouldn’t just let him go would they?

Is my breakup making his stress about getting traded worse?

Shit, I didn’t even think of that. I reach for my phone to call him to assure him that I’m proud of him and his work on the ice but then I blink and realize he’s in the middle of a game. I can’t talk to him until later.

And I blink again, acknowledging the instinct to speak to him.

To see him.

To hold him.

To be held by him.

By Aiden.

The period ends with the game tied at one goal each.

The plan is for Aiden to take the net at the start of the second period.

After twenty minutes of cleaning the ice and playing games with members of the crowd, the teams skate out and circle a few times.

Aiden gets in the crease and roughs it up with his skates.

He has his mask on so I can't see his face too well but I keep one eye on the television above me in case they capture him in a close up.

Play begins and Aiden has to defend a series of shots early.

He's bent forward for almost two minutes as the opposing team fires puck after puck at him.

Some he's blocking others are getting knocked off course by defenders.

This is the type of chaotic situation that can lead to a bad goal, one that shouldn't have gone in but did because the goalie was tired.

I'm on the edge of my seat, not breathing. I know how important this game is to Aiden. He's proving his worth, earning his spot. His parents are here.

Finally he catches a shot in his glove and the whistle blows. Aiden stands and starts to turn to get water when he crashes to the ground.

"Aiden!" I yell as I stand from my seat at the bar. His teammates and the trainers rush out and I can't see much through their legs. My head bounces between the ice and the screen hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

I start running around the concourse to get to him.

I hear clapping and I glance up at the screens near the concession stands and see him on his feet being helped off the ice by Felix and the trainers.

Thank God.

I fi nd the elevators I used months ago to get to the player parking lot.

I see a guard there and get ready to plead my case when the doors open and the kid who brought me my blanket at the first game and got the recovery supplies in Florida appears.

He’s listening to a walkie talkie and looks shocked to see me.

"Harper? Holy cow. I can’t believe–come with me, Aiden asked for you."

"Okay, is he okay, what happened?" I ask desperately as I dig my family badge out of my purse and sling it around my neck. We take the elevator down and Luke walks me towards a treatment room. The kid doesn’t tell me anything, just quiet instructions about which way to turn down hallways.

My steps are half a stride faster than his.

We slow after going through a set of double doors. There's a window to the hallway and I see Aiden lying on a table getting his gear taken off carefully by a trainer.

Luke opens the door and I hear the conversation and stop.

"Well, Aiden, if she's been supporting your diet and taking care of you so well why did you just faint on the ice?" A woman's voice says.

"I’m not sure Ma, but we won't get any answers from you accusing Harper of anything."

"I'm not accusing her, I'm just saying, you told us how much she cares for you and then this ? It just doesn't add up."

Have I been caring for him though? Was running away what he needed? I know he was on the road but away games are tough as it is and I undoubtedly made it more stressful for him.

Oh God. Is he having trouble with his heart?

I take a tiny step backwards, the instinct to run causing my muscles to spasm. Luke exhales sharply when I step on his foot. I rock forward as Aiden continues.

"No Ma, I said she ca res about me, we care about each other, we are both adults who take turns helping the other person but it isn't her job to take care of me.

I've been doing it just fine for years." He pauses to take a deep breath. He sounds pained. “We support each other. We’re a team. And I need her just as much as she needs me.”

“Then where is she, Aiden?” His mom asks and I barely let her finish the question before stepping fully into the room.

“I’m here.”

"Harper?" Aiden says with relief when he sees me. I walk over and place my hand on his thigh. His falls on top of mine and he feels hot to the touch. I search his face for signs he’s upset with me when he breaks out into a smile.

"You're burning up, do you have a temperature?" I ask and turn towards the team doctor who nods.

"I'm just so hot for you."

"Oh heavens, I'm sorry," I apologize to the room. "Clearly he's suffering from a fever dream." My laugh is a nervous titter that only slightly relieves the pressure in my chest. Aiden is happy to see me but do his parents know I ran? Do they know I caused him this stress? That this is my fault?

I look into his blue eyes that are a little hazy with whatever his body is dealing with. He looks so boyish, so sweet. I don’t want to burst his happy bubble by demanding a conversation about our future.

A throat clears behind me and I turn to see Aiden's parents.

He is the spitting image of his dad. Tall, ashy blond, same goofy grin on his face Aiden gets when he's teasing me.

I look left and see a woman who is probably four inches shorter than me with the same blue eyes Aiden transfixes me with, but hers are sporting a glare right now.

I guess the "hot for you" comment didn't do me any favors.

I step over to them and extend my hand, "Mr. and Mrs. Youngren, I’m Harper Daniels, it is a pleasure to meet you in person. Although I do wish it wasn’t in the smelly training room."

His dad's smile crack s an increment wider, his mom's scowl softens slightly.

We don't get to say anything else because the doctor speaks up.

"I have good news and bad news," I cross back over to Aiden and take his hand.

"The good news, this wasn't a cardiovascular episode.

Your EKG and pulse readouts are all normal.

We're going to take some blood to confirm and then also ask you to do an ultrasound before you head home but that's really just to cover our bases. "

Thank god. It isn’t his heart.

I almost faint with relief.

"What's the bad news," his mom asks desperately, pulling me from my lighthearted joy.

"He’s clearly fighting something and needs time off." The doctor says.

"What?" I ask.

"Yes, he's off the bench for at least a few days. I’m getting him an antibiotic just to be on the safe side."

"So, I can't play?" Aiden asks quietly before slowly closing his eyes.

"Not until next week. I'll talk with Coach Bradford about whether or not he wants you to travel with the team or stay home and rest." His parents walk over to the doctor and begin to look more closely at the test results. All my focus is on the man in front of me.

"Have you not been feeling well?" I ask him gently.

"No, I haven’t. But I thought it was for other reasons." He whispers and I feel terrible. It must show on my face because he quickly responds, "Hey, no, this isn't your fault. You can't make me getting sick about you."

"But if I hadn't left, if I had been there, you wouldn't have been so stressed and made yourself susceptible." My voice is thick with emotion and I pause to give myself a moment to regroup.

"We have been talking about how your additional training isn’t necessary and could lead to exhaustion and dehydration." The doctor says as he walks over closer to the training table.

I cross my arms and look at Aiden who shrugs. "I wanted to impress you?" He asks like he's guessing the answer to a trivia question.

"Nope, try again." I say after making a buzzer noise.

"Aiden Hugo Youngren, why didn't you listen to your doctor?!" His mother squeals and I kind of love seeing how Aiden's face crumbles as he gets in trouble.

"Okay now, Betsy, let's go, they'll get him out of his gear and then Harper will get him home and we'll check on him in the morning."

"But, my-" she starts and his dad cuts her off.

"Say goodbye and let's go."

She sighs in resignation and goes over to kiss Aiden's forehead. His dad gives him a hand shake and then he nods at me before leaving.

I lift my hand in a pathetic wave and immediately hate myself for it.

“Harper,” Aiden says with such a lost puppy look in his eye I have a hard time mustering up the hurt he caused. In fact, it washed away when I saw him collapse.

“Can you help me get home?” Aiden asks me.

“Um, yeah, I can.”

I wait while the training staff gets him undressed. I help him into some team issued sweats and then get my car and bring it down to the players lot. He rests his head against the window as I drive him home. Neither of us speaking much.

The silence feels heavy but not oppressive. Like we’re both aware we need to talk about us but we both agree it can wait.

That being together is the first step.

When we get to his ap artment he goes straight to bed. I get a glass of water and check the prescription status. I come back in and press a kiss to his forehead that has cooled since the fever reducer has kicked in.

“I’ll be back in the morning.” I whisper against his skin. My body is drawing me closer to the scent of him. It would be so easy to slide under the covers with him. Hold him. Let him hold me. To pretend the last two weeks never happened.

“No, stay.” He says gruffly.

I look down at him and see the softness in his face as he succumbs to sleep. I remove my contacts, slip out of my clothes, and climb into bed behind him.

I drift off to sleep wondering what tomorrow will bring.