Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

LO

It's late when my tablet rings. The tension I've been carrying in my shoulders since I haven't had him online melts away. Until I see his face fill my screen.

Caulder looks like he's been run over with a Mack truck. He's fucking exhausted.

"Hey, babe," I say gently.

He turns toward the screen as he's unbuttoning his shirt. We're in his hotel bathroom right now as he strips from his suit. The dark circles under his eyes are clear, even from this distance.

It makes my fury rise all the more. This bitch better get a good dose of karma. Or I'm going to hire some fucking karma.

"Hi," he answers, and his voice is just as tired.

"Good game tonight. Only caught the highlights, but you had both assists, yeah?"

Caulder nods. "Yeah," he agrees.

I ordered him one of the clippy, bendy arms to hold electronic devices and I love that he brings it with him to away games. He's in Vancouver tonight, buttoning up the tail end of a three-game away streak. Then he'll be home with three days between now and his next game.

At this point, I think I know Caulder's schedule better than my own. Because I'm so fucking worried about him. I hate that I can't be there to hold him.

There's just more of the same shit from this chick filling up the feeds. Not that I've looked. I had an early game today, so I haven't been online to check since this morning. I spend a lot of time reporting comments and marking this stupid bitch's posts as false news. Doesn't do a lot of good. Especially since there's no true news to counter it.

Which is also pissing me off.

Caulder steps under the water and lets his head fall back. I stare at him, my gaze combing over his body. There's a new bruise just below his ribs on his left side. A red mark on his left arm, though I'm not sure if that's something recent or from the game. I've only checked the brief report that they won in a shootout. Haven't had time to look at the highlights yet.

"Tell me about your game," I say.

He sighs. "There was someone in the audience with a sign pressed to the glass while we were warming up. It said BE RESPONSIBLE AND SUPPORT YOUR CHILD. Sacha broke his stick against the glass, making the girl fall backwards. He was ejected from the game. We almost received penalties before the game began when my teammates loudly argued with the refs."

My fists clench. My jaw clenches. I manage to keep my voice devoid of most anger when I respond. "Did you get pre-game penalties?" I ask.

Caulder shakes his head. "I think we didn't because Vancouver refused to begin if the refs enforced them. They said they'd rather take the loss than allow us the unfair penalties when it's the people in the audience who should receive a fucking penalty. I heard Mattias tell the ref that no one was getting any pucks over the boards tonight, no autographs, nothing if they couldn't get their shit together and stop blindly following some woman spreading lies on the internet."

I smile. "I'm glad you have a close friend there."

He nods. His head is still back, eyes closed.

"They said they posted online," Caulder says. "The guys that went out that night in Philly. One of them even had a pic. They said I wasn't with them and that I never go out with them when we travel."

"Yeah?" I ask, pulling my phone out to look. "Did you see it?"

Caulder shakes his head. "No. I really don't want to see anything online."

"I know. Wash up, Caulder. You're dead on your feet."

He picks his head up to look at me. For a few seconds, he just blinks as if he's remembering where he is. Then I watch as he cleans himself, scrubbing everywhere hockey sweat hides. He halfheartedly dries off and then falls into bed naked.

"Talk to me," Caulder says, his eyes heavy.

"What do you want to talk about?" I ask.

He yawns. "Anything other than this shit. I don't care. I just want to hear your voice."

I smile, resting my head on my arm. I can tell he's exhausted or he'd realize I'm not in my bedroom talking to him.

"The season's almost over," I start rambling. "We haven't talked about summer yet. We've both mentioned that we haven't traveled, but would like to. Want to go somewhere this summer?"

He turns his head, a smile on his pretty face. A real one. It's small, but it's there. Genuine. All mine.

"Yeah. Ethan and Jakub spent eight years hiding their relationship. It can't be that hard."

I laugh. "Agreed. You feeling some place hot or want to get cool again? Like the Alps or Alaska?"

"It's cold here like eight months of the year. I'm going to need some heat."

Grinning, I nod. "Okay. So… Fiji? Bali? Hawaii?" I think about it and shake my head. "Not Hawaii. I'm not sure how big hockey is there, but it's probably not conducive to going under the radar."

"I can see where Ethan and Jakub used to go."

"Without them asking why you want to know?"

He shrugs. "Maybe. I don't know."

His eyes are closed now. He's falling asleep. Instead of keeping talking about this, I talk about hockey drills. His lips curl in a tired smile, but his eyes don't open. When I run out of drills, I start singing to him instead. I turn my phone on, opening the music app, and start streaming quietly. Just loud enough so I can hear and hopefully stay somewhat in tune.

Caulder falls asleep within a couple songs, but I keep singing since this is the first time he's looked peaceful in six days since this bullshit went viral. I sing until my voice starts to sound like shit and I'm afraid my squeaks and cracks will wake him up.

Then I hum for a while longer. I'm not sure if it's my voice or the music that helps him sleep peacefully. So when I begin falling asleep, I move my phone close to the tablet and make sure he can hear the music playing.

"Goodnight, Caulder Haines," I whisper. "I think I love you."

Caulder sighs in his sleep. I stare at him a while longer and decide that I don't truly have to think about it. I love him. There's no doubt in my mind. My heart. My entire body.

I love him.

He looks well-rested when he opens his eyes. As soon as he opens them, he immediately looks for the tablet. Looking for me. There's nothing that makes my heart race more than that. I'm his first thought.

"Morning, babe," I say.

His smile climbs. "Morning."

"You look like you got some sleep."

"Mmm," he hums. "Someone was singing to me and promising me a vacation."

"I'll sing to you any time, though I think it'll sound best when you're half asleep."

He grins.

"Also, I have every intention of taking you on vacation, Caulder. We've kind of talked in theory about what happens after the season's over, but I will be on the first flight to you after my last game."

"You're going to come here? You don't want me to come there?"

"For now, I'll fly to you. We can go from there. I have a feeling any place we want to go is going to be easiest to fly from the East Coast anyway."

Caulder sighs. His eyes close again but this time, they're relaxed. For this small window, he's not thinking about the stupid bitch who's caused him so much stress and panic. For this tiny moment in time, he's only thinking about happy things. Me.

"What time do you have to go?" I ask.

He shifts in bed until he finds his phone. "Hour."

"Get up and get dressed. You need to eat. I can see that you haven't been eating."

"Yes, Dad," he murmurs, rolling his eyes. But he gets up, grabbing the tablet as he moves through the room.

Watching him get ready makes my chest warm. It feels normal. Moving through life with him. Sharing his mundane daily tasks and being here for anything. Any random thought. Every big moment. All things that make him upset. I'm here.

Far away, but here. It sucks, and I love it at the same time.

I reluctantly get off the line when he can't stall going out the door any longer. He does need to eat. If I thought it wouldn't raise too many questions, I'd message Creed to make sure Caulder eats something.

Now it's a waiting game. Half an hour until they board the bus. Twenty-minute ride to the airport. Probably another forty minutes, at least, before he's on the Skidmoss jet. Then there's a five-and-a-half-hour flight if the skies are clear and there are no delays in landing. Another forty minutes to deplane and get to the bus on the other end.

There's going to be a big gap between check out and when I see him. I'm not sure what to do with my day until then. What's there to do in Buffalo in March? If it wouldn't raise questions, I'd go to the arena and utilize their gym. I doubt they'd mind.

Instead, I pass my time watching television and scrolling through social media. I should stay off social media because it just pisses me off. But at least all this woman's posts are basically repeats of the last handful. As are the comments. I spend a couple hours reporting fake news and hate comments as I absently listen to sports news.

When check out comes, I convince the reception to allow me into the hotel gym and hold my bags. There I pass another handful of hours. Caulder messages me sporadically. I know he's on his flight now. Thirty thousand feet in the sky, probably flying over Wisconsin right now. Maybe not that far. Minnesota maybe.

I know he's talking to his friends because his texts are spread out. He does that so he doesn't appear too focused on his phone. No questions that way.

I'm not nearly as good about hiding the fact that I text him as often as I do. Keno is especially interested to know about the girl I'm hiding, which of course makes everyone else turn their attention to me. The only answer I give him is that I'm not hiding a girl.

Which is 100% true! No girls here.

By the time three o'clock rolls around, I've spent enough time at the gym that I'm regretting the fact there's no shower here. I clearly didn't think this through. Thankfully, the same woman is at the front and I explain that I'm here to surprise my partner who hasn't landed yet and I need a shower so I don't meet them all smelly. I need like twenty minutes in a room.

She hands me a keycard and tells me to hurry. I leave her a $100 tip.

Caulder should be at his house around six. As soon as he calls me on his way home from the arena, I'll head to his house. He'll text me once he lands in Buffalo and I'll see where I am in relation to where he lives. Just in case I need to leave sooner.

I could go now, but then his neighbors will spot a random person lingering outside his house and someone might call the cops. That would be counterproductive to what I'm trying to accomplish here.

After grabbing something to eat, I wander around the mall for a while until Caulder's text comes through. Finally! I get to see my man soon. We're in the same state again!

I'm relatively close to his house, so I'm not concerned about getting there before him. I can always tell him I'm shopping to explain the background noise. It's only half untrue. I am at the mall, after all.

He calls me as soon as he gets in his car. I'm already in a Shuttled on the way to his house because I ran out of patience.

"Hey, babe," I say. "How was your flight?"

Caulder sighs. There's stress in his voice again. "Fine. I talked to Rigo. He decided on a journalist. The same one that talked to Ethan, Creed, and Jakub. They're discussing questions now. I should have them in a couple days."

I both love that Rigo is on top of shit and keeping Caulder in the loop, but hate that he's once again thinking about it. It was good to see him appear almost normal this morning when he woke up.

"Good. He seemed like a cool guy."

"Creed liked him," he says. "I think he's still the only one they have interviews with."

"Any word on the legal shit?"

"It's been filed with the court. I told him I'm not afraid to throw money at it to make it move faster. He's not letting me."

There's a quiet whine in his voice.

"It's going to be fine. It'll all go away soon. Then we're going to demand an apology from the fucking world for blindly siding with the wrong fucking person."

"Is it blindly, though? That picture…"

"First of all, it's not you. Just because it looks like you, doesn't mean it is. Second, even if it is you, that's not her in the picture that ‘ you're' dancing with. And third, there's literally zero proof that the picture was taken at that club, never mind when it was taken."

Caulder sighs. "I know."

"When will you be home? I need to see your face. It's been hours!"

He laughs. "Fifteen minutes."

I grin as I step out of the Shuttled, placing a finger over my lips so the driver doesn't speak. He smiles, nodding. I get out and shut the door and they pull away.

"What're you doing?" Caulder asks.

Couldn't hide the door closing, I guess. "Just getting home. Was at the mall."

"Ew. Why?"

"Browsing. I needed to pass the time until I could talk to you again."

He hums and I can just imagine him smiling. I sit on his stoop, thankful that I'm mostly blocked from any prying eyes on the road. I'm not quite out of sight, but I'm not too obviously hanging out like a creep, either.

As the minutes pass and he gets closer and closer, my heart won't stop racing. It's been only nine days since our teams played each other. Nine since we've been together. Since I've touched him and kissed him. Held him to me.

But with all the shit going on, it feels longer. Like a month. Or two.

His garage door opening makes my heart jump into my throat. I quickly cover my mic to try to muffle the sound, so he doesn't hear it back. His car pulls in, driving straight into the garage. The door closes and I wait.

It's clear he hasn't seen me. Caulder's still talking on the phone so I listen to the background to try to gauge what he's doing. Where he's at. When he'll switch to video.

"Okay, I'm going to call you on my tablet," he says.

I ring the doorbell and hear it through the phone. Caulder sighs.

"Can I just ignore that?"

Laughing, I say, "No. Go answer the door. We'll talk after."

He sighs in exasperation. "This better be good," he mutters and then hangs up.

I've just pocketed my phone when the door opens. Caulder stares at me in shock. Eyes wide. "Lo?"

"I've been waiting for fucking ever," I complain, teasingly. "What took you so long?"

His eyes fill with tears, and he launches himself at me. I catch him, holding him tightly. His body trembles and I feel a tear on my neck. I hold him tighter.

"Thank you," he whispers. "How did you know I need you here so badly?"

"Because I need to be here just as badly," I answer. "I got you, babe. I'm not going to let you go until the very last minute in thirty-six hours. Promise."