I nod. “I am, thank you.”
Reaching forward, she squeezes my hand.
“I need to get back out there. But if you need anything, you’ve got my number, right?”
I nod, appreciating the offer, and then she’s gone.
“You’ve gotta talk to him, Case. If you don’t, you’ll regret all of this more than you already do.”
61
KODIE
As I get into position, ready for the puck to drop, the only thing I can think about is her.
I knew she’d be here tonight.
I also knew that seeing her was going to hit me like a fucking freight train. But the reality was way worse than I was expecting.
“Fuck,” I breathe, rubbing my gloved hand over the spot on my chest that hurts the most.
I know I’m doing the right thing by putting an end to all of this, so why does it hurt so much?
All I want to do is jump the board, pull her from her seat, and wrap her in my arms.
Fuck, I need her.
And that fucking annoys me. I’ve gone through life never needing anyone.
Sure, women have been useful over the years to give me the relief I craved. One—who I’d rather not think about—brought me the greatest gift of all, Sutton. But I’ve neverneededone.
Until Casey.
I didn’t realize just how hard life was, how fucking miserable I was, until she crashed into my life. Hell, it isn’t really a life. More of an existence.
Of course, my life has meaning. I have Sutton and hockey.Both of those are more than enough to focus on and keep me busy. But I can’t say that I was really living.
Being with Casey…she sparked something inside me that I’m not sure ever existed before. Like a fuse just waiting to be lit.
Focus on your job.
Focus on the game.
Focus on the puck. On the win.
I almost feel like I’ve got it together, but then, I make the colossal mistake of looking back in her direction.
Sutton is on her feet, chanting with the rest of the crowd. But Casey...she’s…gone.
I stand frozen, staring at her empty seat as everything happens around me.
The puck is dropped, and Fletch wins it and takes off toward the goal.
“Rivers,” Killer barks as he shoots past me.
“Fuck,” I hiss, taking off to do my fucking job.
I don’t look up again until we change shifts, but even then, I keep my eyes down until I’m on the bench.
