Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38

F inally, after weeks of recovery, weeks I didn’t even fucking need, I’m about to be back on the ice.

Minus some headaches and the time it took my bruises to heal, I’ve been more than ready to get back to work. I know I’m about to wake before my alarm, but when I turn over, Sloane is nowhere to be found.

I pull back the covers and hear her retching before I push the bathroom door open. I pull back her wild hair and hold it as she pukes while I rub her back with my other hand.

“What’s wrong? Did you eat something bad?”

She doesn’t answer as she just throws up more.

“Should I postpone practice? I can wait to go back.”

Sloane shakes her head, and I realize I’m being annoying by asking her questions while she’s sick.

It probably shouldn’t be while she’s throwing her guts up that I wish I were bonded to her, but it is.

We agreed to wait till I was cleared and healthy; I was shocked Sloane was okay with waiting. If I’m being honest, she hasn’t been the same since the accident. She seems a lot more cautious about everything and hasn’t left the house much.

She grabs a bundle of toilet paper and cleans her face and flushes, and I let her hair go free.

“No, go to work. I must have eaten something that didn’t agree with me. I’ll be okay. Plus, Ethan will be home.”

“I don’t like it,” I say, and she gives me a watery smile.

“Seriously, go do what you love. I’ll be here waiting.”

“I love you more than hockey. You know this?”

“Yes, I know this,” she says, tapping my thigh. “Your bruises are completely gone, you’ve been medically cleared, and the team needs you. I’ll be fine, I promise. Go to work.”

“Are you just tired of watching TV with me all day?”

“No, and I promise I won’t watch any Pack Island without you.”

“You better not. I need to know if Lyrik is going to stay and make things work with Remy and Cass or if she’s going to fly back home.”

“I promise I won’t watch any of the good stuff without you.”

“You aren’t bored here, are you? I can get you whatever you want, whatever would make you happy,” I promise her.

Her forehead rests on my chest, and she nods. “I’m happy, Bram. I’m just tired and don’t feel so good. Send Ethan up before you leave?”

“Okay, liefje ,” I say, kissing the top of her head.

She brushes her teeth, and I help her back into bed.

“Text me if you want me and Max to pick up anything on our way home.”

“You’re driving together?” she asks happily, even though the dark circles under her eyes tell me a different story.

I wish she would tell me what’s going on or talk to someone about it. I’ve spent most of my days and nights with the Omega since I’ve been recovering, but she’s very good at putting up a facade.

Something’s going on in her head, and I wish she would just talk to me.

“Of course, we’re going to and from the same place. Why wouldn’t we?” I say, not wanting to upset her.

“It makes me happy,” she says, snuggling up against the pillow.

I kiss the top of her head again. “Get some sleep. I’ll send Ethan up.”

“Thank you.”

I grab my clothes and head downstairs where Ethan and Max are both eating breakfast.

“Sloane woke up throwing up. She said she’s fine, but she’d like for you to go be with her,” I direct toward Ethan.

“You sure she’s okay?” Max asks, getting up from his stool and glancing upstairs.

Ethan has a different look on his face. “I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll go check on her. I’ll text you if anything is wrong.”

“Thanks,” Max and I say at the same time.

We take our breakfasts to go, and as soon as we’re in the car, Max says exactly what I was thinking.

“Something is up with those two,” he says.

“Right?” I agree.

“Ever since the accident, they’ve both been different,” Max says.

While Max and I probably took the brunt of the medical issues during the accident—I was passed out, and he was so full of adrenaline trying to save my life—Ethan and Sloane were hopelessly waiting on shore. Apparently, she didn’t know if I was dead or alive for some time.

“Do you think it’s the trauma from the accident?”

“That was my best guess? I mean, they haven’t been distant, but the fact she hasn’t brought up bonding has been odd to me.”

When did Max and I start being on the same exact page? It’s honestly kind of crazy.

Well, no, it’s really not. After the accident, I knew we would be starting over, but I guess I didn’t expect to start having the same feelings I did my rookie year.

Max is fun and kind. Not to mention he’s held a lot of shit down around the house while I’ve been out while still managing his place with the Foxes.

Against my better wishes, I may have a growing crush on the Alpha I used to hate. Not that I’ll act on it, but if he did? I’m not quite sure how I would react, but I don’t think I’d push him away.

Not that he’s interested.

Sloane and Ethan are our priorities, even if it seems like they’re pushing us away as of late.

But it’s only been a month. It’s been an adjustment living together and working past what happened on that bridge. None of us have been intimate since the accident, and it feels like Sloane is retreating in on herself. And Ethan, it almost seems like he’s covering for her?

“She didn’t even want to go out for her birthday,” I say, and Max nods.

We did something small at the house, but it didn’t feel the same. Sloane is so loved, and so many people wanted to be there for her, but she said she would just rather stay in.

“Maybe we should look for another therapist. There’s no fucking way we’re going back to that building.”

“Agreed,” I reply.

“Maybe the distance from her parents is making her depressed, or she misses her job with the Foxes. Should we talk to Coach?”

I grimace, hating the idea.

“You’re right, it’s not our place,” Max says.

“If he asks, we can help, but I don’t think that’s going to earn us any points with the old man or with Sloane.”

“We’ll get through this. Together,” Max says.

I glance over at him, his eyes fully glued to the road. Was he always this handsome? Or was I blinded by my grudge and forgot just how good looking he was?

I’m suited up, but I doubt I’ll get any playing time.

Sloane came to the game, and I couldn’t be happier that she finally got out of the house. I know it wasn’t easy for her, but Piper and Charlotte are in the box. It doesn’t hurt that Anders is there either. Piper and Anders will look after her like she was their own.

Despite being ready to work and happy to have her here, I still feel somewhat uneasy.

With home games, all three of us have to work, and none of us can make sure she’s okay. Maybe I have my own baggage after all.

“Nilsen, you’re in,” Coach barks, and I nod my head, waiting for the shift change as I jump over the barrier and head on the ice.

“You good?” Max asks, and I nod my head. We both look up at the box at the same time.

“She’s fine. But are you fine?” he asks.

“Yeah, I feel good,” I tell him, and I mean it.

The cold air and the feel of skates back on my feet means everything to me. But I meant what I told Sloane. I love her more.

If we were bonded, I’d be able to check in with her and know that she’s feeling alright.

I shake my head and focus on the game. I need a win and to possibly get my groove back. Lately, life has been a little out of my hands, and I’m ready to take charge and get back to normal. Well, more than back to normal. I want to bond with my Omega and Beta, make a pack contract, and see my girl smile more.

There I go, getting distracted again.

I slap my stick against the ice and buckle the fuck down. The Jets are going down. I’ve got something to prove.

It’s the third period. The score is two–two, and I’m hungry for a win.

As happy as I am to be back on the ice, my body clearly isn’t completely back to the high-paced game, but I’m pushing through.

Luckily, the game hasn’t been overly physical… until now.

We’re foaming at the mouth for the win, and with only three minutes left, it’s make or break.

No one wants overtime. I’m not even sure I have the fucking stamina for overtime. I just want to go the fuck to sleep. Sitting on my ass and waiting for my bruises to heal has set me back heavily, and I can feel it in how sluggish I’m moving.

I want to take the win and go the fuck home. But apparently, the Jets offense wants to make my first game a banger as they fly down the ice toward me and Martel.

He and the opposing player are pushed against the boards, and I skate over for backup, but it’s all for naught as the puck dislodges and goes right to the stick of another Jets player.

He doesn’t waste the opportunity as Martel and I scramble to get back into defensive positions.

Max is anticipating the lineman’s move and is able to glove the puck, but as soon as he does, the opposing player’s shoulder is hitting him and taking Connery down.

I’ve protected so many goalies in my career, but this feels personal.

All that sluggishness drifts away as adrenaline fills me, and I skate over and grip the prick by his jersey and take the first swing.

The crowd is extraordinarily loud, chanting for violence. I thrive on it, not caring when he hits me in the side that I’m still tender in.

Whistles are blown, and more players are joining the fray as I hold his jersey and continue hitting, even though I’m winded and each hit hurts.

Don’t fuck with my goalie is the message I’m sending with every hit I give and take.

The tang of blood is fresh in my mouth as we’re eventually pulled away from one another. Both of us get called for penalties, and the end of the game will be played four on four.

I smile, blood staining my teeth as they blare my face on all the screens in the stadium.

If there’s one thing the Foxes can do, it’s four on four.

Like they were born playing hockey together, Martel and Beckford show us why pack contracts are a real deal as Martel gets the puck, passing it to Beckford.

He doesn’t even stop the puck, just rears back and slap shots it right into the goal. The horn blares, and the crowd goes wild as we wait for the final minute to tick down.

I skate out of the box and join my team in celebration, my arm around Max Connery of all people. I don’t know what takes over me, but like so many years before, I pick the most ridiculous time to lean forward and kiss him.

But this time, he does the same.

It’s a quick kiss, and when we pull back, we both seem surprised by our actions. But the smile that takes over his face has me feeling like I just won the lottery.

I don’t deserve this life I have, but I’m going to hold on to it with every amount of strength I have.