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ledger

Where was she? As I sat in the penalty box for the second time tonight, with the clock ticking down in the second period, I scanned the seats where she should have been. However, they remained conspicuously empty.

I didn’t know what was wrong, but my head just wasn’t in the game. She was drooling over me as I walked past her for the ridiculous thing we had to do for the social media intern. She was here, so why wasn’t she watching the game?

Did she hate me all of a sudden or regret what we did? So many thoughts swirled in my mind, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Why did I fucking care?

I smacked my hockey stick on the ice. To any of the fans behind me, I was a pissed-off hockey player, but I was obsessing over something beyond hockey, which freaked me the fuck out. My entire life had been consumed by this sport since I was a kid. My parents pushed this career on me, and I’d wanted to make them proud. I had no personality traits other than being a hockey player. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was see Auburn’s curly blonde hair wave in the wind.

Fuck. I just wanted her near me so I could smell her faint floral smell or the hint of coffee from her work. Hockey was once my life, but I wanted so much more.

She had to be here. If for anything, she was here for the child…er, Austin. She would be here for him, which had my mind spiraling even more, thinking something must’ve happened to her. I had thirty seconds left in the box, and we were playing the Colorado Cats. Kanis, the captain on their team, was pissing me the fuck off, checking me too many times and purposely stopping my stick. My gloves had come off twice, sending me into this box more than I’d wanted. From the other side of the rink, Coach glared at me, telling me he was damn well more than pissed.

The box opened, and I stayed on the ice until the buzzer stopped, making us two down at the end of the second period. The moment I stepped off the rink, Coach’s glare bore into the back of my head until we wobbled off the ice.

“What the fuck was that, Cole?” he shouted.

The locker room exuded a palpable tension thick enough to cut with a skate blade. The air hung heavy with the scent of sweat, adrenaline, and the lingering disappointment of a game slipping away. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the forest-green walls, adding to the somber atmosphere.

Coach stood at the center, his figure rigid, his eyes ablaze with frustration. Dressed impeccably in his suit, he seemed like a statue of authority, but the subtle tremor in his hands betrayed the underlying tension. Each player took their seat on the worn benches.

As Coach’s voice boomed across the room, it reverberated against the walls, punctuating the silence with sharp intensity. His words cut through the heavy air, slicing through the veil of disappointment that hung over us.

“You all are a fucking disappointment. None of you have your head in the fucking game.” Coach’s tone was unwavering and ice cold.

“Yes, Coach,” we responded in unison, our voices barely above a whisper.

“The only one showing any damn effort out there is Hart, and the rest of you seem content to let him carry the whole damn team. You’re too busy chasing your own glory, trying to up your stats, to play as a fucking team,” Coach continued, his words a stinging rebuke to each and every one of us. I kept my head hung low. He was right. I wasn’t in the game.

Coach finished his speech, describing a few plays and movements we needed to improve upon before sending us off. A few guys had to check in with the trainers and their own coaches before the third period started.

“You”—Coach pointed at me—“keep sitting.” I nodded solemnly, half expecting this to happen.

I didn’t move, and Coach took off his black suit jacket to sit next to me on the bench where he ran his calloused fingers through his cropped hair. “I’m fucking tired of this shit.”

This wasn’t the screaming match I was expecting. “Oh?”

“I’m constantly trying to keep my job, uphold my reputation, while simultaneously doing what’s best for the team and bringing us wins.”

I nodded, understanding what he was saying on a deep level. “Yeah.”

“I know you’re checked out, Cole. I don’t know why.”

He sighed before slowly turning toward me. I had already chucked my gloves onto the floor, but it was awkward sitting in all of this padding. “Is it your knee?”

I shook my head. I actually felt good physically, I just wasn’t in the game. “What is it? I know you think it’s your last year, but we could have a kick-ass season, and you could stay in…”

I shook my head again. “Nah. I’m done.” I sighed, cracking my head to the side in frustration. “I’m just?—”

Coach whipped his head around, and his eyes bore deeply into mine. “It’s about her,” he said, dropping his tone an octave so no one else in the room could hear us.

I debated lying to him. He didn’t need to know, but on the other hand, he already knew, so I nodded.

“Fuck, Cole. I told you not to go there.”

“It’s not that. She’s my friend,” I added quickly. “It’s just that I got her a ticket closer to the glass for the game, and I keep looking over there, but she’s not there, and she wouldn’t not be here because her son and all?—”

“Yeah. I’m sure that’s now the reason she comes. There is no one else she has to look at.”

I purposely chose to ignore his comment. “No. I’m being serious.” I raked my hands through my long black locks.

This shit was eating me up. Coach straightened. “Oh shit. You’re actually worried.”

“Yes.” I threw my hands in the air. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“Have you told Hart about this?” I shook my head.

“No. I didn’t want to worry him.”

Coach nodded in agreement. “Smart thinking. Let me call Nova and see if she’s up at the wives and family suite just in case. I saw her during the walk-in.”

I let out a deep breath. “Thank you.”

My head wasn’t in the game, and quite frankly, I wasn’t sure it was able to get back in before we had to return to the ice.

“You good?” Alex came over while Coach got up to make the phone call, and popped down on the bench next to me, chugging an entire bottle of water.

“Not really. How did you know Stassi was the one?”

Alex dropped the water bottle, his eyes locking onto mine, his sweaty hair clinging to his forehead. “Shit,” he muttered.

I nudged him in the shoulder. “Just curious,” I added.

A strange feeling churned in the pit of my stomach, leaving me unsettled.

“Are you in love with her?” Alex questioned. “Drunk Ledger admitted to being in love with her, but I need to hear you say it now.”

“Dammit,” I groaned, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in. “I don’t know what that means, which is why I’m asking.” I paused. “Last night, we told each other we’d just be friends in public but in private we’re something different. I don’t know how to balance all of that.”

“Fuck…” Alex turned his gaze toward the lockers.

“Answer me,” I pleaded, my eyes darting to where Coach was still occupied with his phone call.

“I don’t know, man. I just knew. When I met Stassi, she was going through a rough patch with her ex. We didn’t start off in love, but from the moment I saw her, it felt like she was meant to be in my life, even though she belonged to someone else.”

Stassi had been married to a guy who was presently in jail for domestic violence. She and Alex had crossed paths earlier in life, then drifted apart, only to reconnect later. Alex’s voice dropped as he added, “She was mine.”

His words sank into my head as I thought about how Auburn was mine. “The world has somehow put Auburn into my life so many times. I’m so fucking worried?—”

“She’s in the family suite. Nova saw her arguing with her mother,” Coach said.

I let out a deep breath. Her mom…? I shook my head. I’d deal with it after the game.

“She’s safe.”

“Yes, now will you fucking get your head back in the game?”

I closed my eyes for a second, the weight lifting off my chest. The words Alex said about his wife drifting into my brain. She’s mine. I wondered if it was that simple—knowing what was yours and then keeping it tightly to your chest.

“Let’s fucking go,” I breathed out. Alex gave me a pat on the back, and the rest of the team waddled back onto the ice as the buzzer indicated the start of the third period.