31. KNOX

THIRTY-ONE

KNOX

The thing about being a referee for professional hockey is that it's a thankless job. No one knows your name, they boo you when you hit the ice, and no one notices you out there when you're making the right calls. Fans and players expect perfection and like to forget you're a human sometimes.

But when you fuck up a call, then people know your name. You're booed from the stands and jeered and screamed at by the players.

My years in the PWHL have helped me block all that out—or so I thought. It's very early in the season, the arenas aren't at capacity, and the players don't have that amped-up pressure from being close to the playoffs, but one wrong call in my first-ever AHL game is enough to have my name dragged over social media.

I'm not even looking for it, but because I follow all things hockey, it inevitably pops up in my feed.

Who tf is Knox Addison anyway?

Has he had a lobotomy?

My 2yo could have made that call.

And other things much, much worse. Thank fuck I'm not allowed an official social media account, but if this is how it is in the AHL, I can only imagine how amplified that will be in an NHL game.

Apparently, my supervisors agreed with the fans, and when I received my email the next morning with video and coaching notes from the night before, the penalty shouldn't have been a penalty.

Would Texas still have scored if it wasn't for the power play? Who knows? But that question will be hanging over my head for probably the rest of my life. Maybe half of my afterlife too.

It's been three weeks, I've barely seen Connor, I haven't seen Easton at all, and … I'm not doing so good.

I've gone from being surrounded by people I know and like to meeting strangers in cities all over the country. I knew things would be rocky to start with—in the PWHL, where there were only six teams, I knew the players, and I knew the other officials. We had rapport, and it meant I could go to work and have fun.

Yo-yoing between the AHL and NHL, with so many more teams and so many more people to work with, doesn't allow me to get to know anyone. I'm a baby in this position, and I will work my way up through the ranks, will build that rapport on ice, might even work for the NHLOA one day, but for right now, I need to put in the work to stick with it and not quit.

I don't have a great track record with that.

I'm standing at the airport gate, waiting to board my flight, eyes bleary with stressy, sleepless nights, and wondering if my Kiki brothers will be there when I get home. I miss them. Both of them.

I need Connor to shoot the shit with, to tell me when I'm being dramatic, and to boost me up and remind me that this is what I want.

I need East to … fuck, I just need him. I can feel in my gut th at I made the right call when it came to stepping back from us, but that doesn't make it easier. I'm reffing two to three games a week, and he's playing the same amount. I watch every single one that I can catch when I'm not traveling or working, and seeing his face on the screen makes me ache for him like I've never ached for anyone.

That feeling that's been sneaking up on me? The one I've been refusing to acknowledge? Yeah. I love him. And it feels like a cruel twist that I can finally face that when a future together seems unlikely.

I shove those thoughts aside while I board because I'm not about to be the sobbing mess who can't pull his shit together on a full flight.

But three weeks with no contact? Easton deserves so much better than that. I'm not going to tie him to a ghost because when it comes right down to it, we'll grow apart, or he'll grow to resent me.

I'm sure he secretly wishes I'd quit, and if he said those words to me, I would. Not because I want to but because I've taken the easy out all my life, and there's no reason to think this would be different.

Easton was right.

I walked away from the draft before I even found out if I was good enough.

I'm contemplating throwing away my dream career because I'm having a rocky start.

I dropped our relationship at the first sign of struggle.

These realizations are not something I like about myself, but I don't know how to fix any of them.

East was willing to take the barest shreds of a relationship because it's with me, and he deserves so much more than that.

I get an email before I need to switch my phone off and make the mistake of opening it. My schedule for the entire season has been finalized .

And this weekend, I'm in Colorado.

For my first-ever NHL game.

Officiating for the Kiki brothers.

I get four whole days with Connor. Four days where my best friend boosts me up, and I'm feeling like myself again. We're both on strict training routines and diets, which takes up a lot of my time and energy. But at least the routine is a constant in a life that's become so unpredictable.

Connor invited me to the training rink with him today, and a few of the other guys from Colorado are here getting a skate in on their day off. Including Easton, apparently.

I haven't seen him at all. He hasn't come by Connor's place, and I haven't gone to see him because I wouldn't know what to say. I'm still floundering, still trying to get a handle on my new job. Some sort of routine. Nothing's changed.

I still need to focus on what I'm doing, and if he even remotely hints at him wanting me to choose him instead, I'm ready to do it because it would give me the excuse to leave while it's difficult.

I'm taking a quick break with Con off the ice when East appears, and my gaze immediately zeros in on him. He's been playing like he has something to prove in these last few games, and even as he skates past where we're sitting, he doesn't look my way.

"You two are the worst," Connor complains.

I pull my attention away. "What?"

"I dunno … I guess I assumed you broke things off and used the ref job as an excuse because you weren't feeling it, or you wanted to be free to hook up while you were traveling or wh atever?—"

"What the fuck?"

He shrugs aggressively. "You like hooking up. Can you blame me?"

"When was the last time you saw me hook up?"

Connor opens his mouth to answer immediately but then stops. "Huh. I can't remember, actually."

"Exactly, dickhead. It's not doing it for me like it used to. Even before things with Easton started. And now especially since him."

"Don't get mad at me because I'm still learning what's my business and what isn't, but are you in love with my brother?"

My eyes stray back over to where East is racing Munter from his team. He's so fast and confident out there that I love watching him. "Yep. Pretty sure I am."

"Then excuse me for not understanding why your dumb ass broke up with him."

I pin him with a look. "This is the first time I've seen you properly all month."

"Yeah …"

"And the first thing you did when you saw me was haul me into a hug and say you've missed me."

He's not embarrassed in the slightest. "I did."

"Right. Now, imagine we were actually together."

Con's face immediately screws up in revulsion. "Dude, no. Gross."

I try to keep my sigh patient. "I'm making a point here."

"That you're into incest?"

"You're a lost cause." I plant my elbows on my knees, watching the team skate, nerves already hitting me over having to tell these guys what to do tomorrow. I don't feel qualified, and I think that way of thinking is what's impacting my calls. "What if I make a shitty call in this game?"

I'm changing the subject, but it's actually been on my mind a lot.

"Then you make a shitty call. I mess up on the ice all the time. "

"Never." I snicker. "Cody Bilson says hi though."

"Fuck you. He took out East; I was protecting my team."

"But Easton took out Miles, and you know what you'd do if someone touched your goalie."

Connor grumbles something under his breath.

"Will you be pissed if I make a bad call and it means your team loses?"

Connor's mouth drops. "That's what you're worried about?"

"Yes? No? I'm going to be impartial. I have to be. But I've already lost Easton because of this job, and I couldn't take it if it cost me you as well."

"Nah, you're good." Connor slings his arm around my shoulders. "And if any of my team gives you hell, I'll deck them. The fam's coming to watch your first NHL game, by the way."

"They're not."

"Of course they are. My parents are almost as excited to see you as they were when it was my first game. Or Easton's or Lachie's. Though maybe not theirs because I'm clearly the favorite son."

I thump him on the leg, and he laughs as he pulls away.

"Just saying, we all love you and support you. I know you're having a hard time at the moment, but taking this job was the right call. I'm so proud of you, man."

I really needed to hear that.

"And all I'm going to say about you and East before I keep my big nose out is that you're not hooking up with anyone right now. He isn't either. You're both miserable. Wouldn't it make sense to, you know, fucking try? You can't be any worse off than you are."

"And what? See him once a month?"

"I'm bad at math, so I could be wrong, but isn't having one of something better than having none? "

"Depends what the thing is," I answer absentmindedly. I'm too stuck on his question.

"You're complaining you'll never see each other, but you've had the chance to see him for the last four days, and you've been avoiding him. Somehow, I think you could be shit at math too."

I laugh, and at that exact moment, Easton looks my way. He hooks my stare, and for one stretched-out moment, nothing is more important to me than him.

Then, a scowl crosses his face, and he skates for the exit, disappearing from the ice before I've been able to get my fill.

"You'd actually want that for him though?" I ask. "For your brother to be stuck in a relationship that makes him miserable?"

Connor grits his teeth and takes too long to answer, and when he does, it sounds like effort. "I have learned that my brother needs to be the one to make that choice. No matter how I feel about it. But for the few weeks you guys were together, he didn't once look miserable. You're only assuming you won't make him happy, and so you're not even going to try."

I'm worried about making him miserable in the long run when it's obvious he's already there. All thanks to me.

"I'd have to declare the relationship," I finally say. "They might be okay with me being friends with you, but I doubt they'd be happy about me dating a player."

"Ehh. I'm more concerned about you and Easton being happy. The NHLOA can deal with it."

I'm scared shitless. At talking to East. At trying for something that's destined to fail. At telling my very new boss that I have a conflict of interest that's probably going to mean he has to redo the schedule. Again.

But all of that is background noise to tomorrow night's game .

"I need to get through tomorrow," I tell him. "I'll be able to think more clearly then."

"Sounds good."

"You know, it would be really helpful if you guys could lose for me. Prove there's no favoritism."

Connor pulls his helmet back on and slaps me on the back. "I love you, but I don't love you that much. Come on, let's get back out there."