Can’t deny it, I’m feeling pretty good.
The culmination of years of training and dedication means that our team is one game away from becoming the NCAA’s Frozen Four champions, a win that will be even greater knowing that Fallon is going to be in the stands, on our home turf, watching us win it.
One bad thing that happened in the lead up to the final is the fact that Tanner is now sporting a less than ideal injury. During our last game one of the opposition players spent all three periods body-slamming him and, in the final round, he fully rammed him to the ice.
The ref paused the game and we pulled the guy off of him but not before it became clear that Tanner was going to have to be out for the rest of the game.
The attack was so unprovoked that even Tanner was in shock, but he still managed to give the guy a clean right hook before we pulled him over to the team box.
I checked the back of the guy’s jersey to see if we knew him, to see if he had some kind of personal motive, but the name Brennan didn’t ring any bells.
Benson didn’t give Tanner a second of shit for it, probably because it was the most unbelievable on-ice assault that any of us had ever seen, and after the final two minutes played out we took Tanner to the hospital to ensure that nothing was broken.
So now Tanner is in recovery on the couch, nursing his mild sprain, although I know for a fact that he’s going to insist on at least one period’s worth of play during the final.
I don’t blame him for a second – not only has he worked his ass off on this team, he also previously captained it. It would be a slap in the face if he wasn’t involved in us securing the biggest win we’ve ever gotten.
I duck my head as I lock up my truck, smiling as I think about how fucking lucky I am right now. On my way to collect my girl, ready to bring her back to my place. I breathe out a laugh as I think about how Tanner is probably going to try and crash our movie night and, because Fallon’s such a sweetheart, she’ll probably let him.
I check my phone again as I trudge towards the diner, the last message in our chat staring back at me.
Can’t lie, after what she said, I kind of thought that she was going to send a cute picture of her smiling up at me in her adorable uniform during her break. Then again, she was literally on shift, so maybe her tables got real busy and she didn’t have the time.
Doesn’t matter. I get to see her now and that’s the important thing.
I pull open the door to the diner and step inside, rolling my shoulders as I scan the room for her. When I don’t see her at the tables or behind the counter I send her a quick text to say I’m here, baby. Then I slip my phone in my pocket, cross my arms, and wait.
My leg starts bouncing after three minutes pass.
Something just… doesn’t feel right. In normal circumstances, she would have responded to my message if she was held back in the kitchen or something. She knows that I’ll wait as long as she needs me to.
But all of this silence? It doesn’t bode well for me.
I decide to breach customer etiquette and duck around the counter, even more alarmed than before when I realise that she isn’t in the kitchen.
I rake a hand through my hair and then flick my eyes over to the back office, knowing that it’s unlikely that I’ll find her there but willing to give it a shot anyway.
I rap my fist on the door and call out, “Fallon? You in there?”
It takes five seconds for the door to open and, when it does, it’s my mom who’s standing on the other side.
I quickly glance around, checking that Fallon isn’t in the vicinity.
Then I feel something slap hard against my bicep and I drop my eyes back to my mom.
She shoves the paper that she was wielding roughly against my chest and when I look down at the front page I see myself staring back at me.
Heat stains my cheeks and I hide the paper under my arm.
“Where’s Fallon?” I ask gruffly, not liking the feeling of suspense in the air.
“Hunter, she knows.”
The Band-Aid is off before I’ve even registered what she’s talking about. My chest heaves in one fast pump, indignation coursing through me.
“She knows what?” I ask, just in case I’m not understanding her correctly.
“She knows that you gave up your job so that she could have one, and she knows that she already met your mom and you failed to mention it to her.”
I scrub angrily at my hair. “I’m a fucking idiot,” I murmur.
My mom doesn’t argue with me on that one.
“Did she already leave?” I ask, and my mom nods her head.
“Shit,” I curse, looking around in a panic. “How the hell do I explain this to her?”
How do I tell her that I wanted to do what was best for her, because I hated seeing her struggling all on her own?
This is not good. This is really, really not good.
“I already messed up too many times,” I say hoarsely, adrenaline coursing through my body and making my hands itch to do something. To fix something.
My mom narrows her eyes. “How do you mean?”
“I’m the reason why she got fired from that feminist Hooters-type joint in the first place, not to mention I’m the reason why she got another damn knock on the head.”
She blinks up at me. “What are you talking about?”
“I slammed a door in her face.”
“You did what?!”
“See?” I say, gesturing towards her jaw-on-the-floor reaction. “This is exactly what I mean. I was just trying to make amends, to atone for all of the dumb shit that I did when I first met her. I just went an unusual way about it.”
My mom levels me with a look. “Hunter, I think that she’s going to need some time to process this.”
“To process what?” I bite out.
“The fact that you lied, Hunter. That you went behind her back when she specifically asked you to butt out. Maybe she wanted to be her own hero.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and press my palms against them.
“I was trying to do the right thing,” I rasp. “Fallon can be so remorseless with herself. I needed to help her out, and I couldn’t handle her struggling anymore when the solution was right there. Right here. I wanted to be someone that she could count on, someone who would make her life that much better.”
“You should have just told her, Hunter.”
“I am very fucking aware of that, Mom.”
She takes the newspaper from under my arm and gives me another little whip across my pecs.
I breathe out a laugh and drop my head.
Then she does something that I didn’t see coming. She tosses the paper on the cabinet beside us and wraps her arms around my middle, pressing her cheek gently to my chest.
I circle her shoulders with my forearms, willing away the stinging behind my eyes as I rest my cheek against her head.
“You’ll figure it out,” she tells me quietly, before giving me a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t hound her, though. She might need a little time to wrap her head around how illogical her silly boyfriend is.”
I don’t like the idea of giving Fallon time. Especially not when I’m supposed to be winning the Frozen Four final tomorrow and it’s only worth winning if Fallon is there with me.
“I’m going to head to her place and try to talk to her,” I decide, already making my way back around the counter.
My mom follows behind me. “What if she doesn’t let you in?”
Damn, I hadn’t thought of that.
“Think she’ll hate me even more if I break her door down?” I ask.
“Hunter, you have a huge game tomorrow. It would probably be a good thing if you try not to get arrested before then.”
Fuck, fine.
Then I’ll try the condo and, if she doesn’t let me in, I’ll call her. And if she doesn’t pick up, I’ll text her.
And then I’ll just hope and pray that I see her tomorrow in the stands.
Because if she isn’t there, then I’ll have my answer.
