AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The door to the penalty box opens and, for the first time in over a week, I see Francine face to face. I wish we were anywhere but here. Anywhere but this sold out arena. In this penalty box, where I’m sure there’s a camera trained on me right now, and we both have a job to do.
“Evening, Francine.” I sit on the bench, watching the ice and my time ticking down. Watching as our penalty kill team controls the play for the first minute of my penalty.
“Good to see you, Morrow.” At the sound of her voice, I turn, wishing I could wipe the tears off her cheeks, but grateful when she offers me a smile. “It’sreallygood to see you.”
When she opens the door again, my skates hit the ice, and we’re back to full strength. I know,I know,we have a game to play, but my mind is on the girl in the box and the look on her face when I skated in.
After the game, a decisive Union victory, I head straight to the showers and hope that Francine will stick around. After changing clothes and answering questions from the media – grateful, for once, that I had an unproductive game and don’t have to give the post game comments – I head straight for my car in the garage. Hers is still here, but I don’t see her anywhere, so I wait. Somewhere, a door opens and closes, the sound echoing in the nearly empty parking garage. Looking up, I see her, bag over her shoulder, team hat on her head, eyes downcast as she walks to her car.
“Hey, Stats.” She startles, looking up and locking eyes. It takes me a minute to register the tear streaks on her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
Francine closes the distance between us, dropping her bag when she gets to me and wrapping her arms around my waist, crushing our bodies together.
“I was so worried,” she whispers against my coat.
“Stats,” I feel her reluctant smile at the nickname I gave her after that night at the diner, “I’m just fine. It was a hard hit, but it looked worse than it was.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” She whispers, pulling back, eyes searching mine. Moving one gloved hand to my cheek, she gently touches the area around my fresh stitches. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry I scared you, Stats. How can I make it up to you?” Our bodies are pressed together, my arms around her waist. There’s a part of me that hopes. Dreams.Begs…
“Kiss me,” she whispers. “Please.”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Francine doesn’t wait for me to lead. She frames my face with her hands and bends me to her, crushing her lips to mine. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I press our bodies together, deepening the kiss. For the first time, I realize she’s got a hockey player's body, and I love it. She’s solid. And strong. And when she breaks the kiss, she presses her forehead to mine, catching her breath.
“When you went down that night,” her voice cracks, betraying her emotion, “I was so scared and I realized that I don’t want to lose you. And I don’t mean lose you in a morbid sense but in a ‘I really like having you in my life and think we have a good thing going and kind of want to explore…more’ kind of sense.”
“Stats,” I smile, kissing the corner of her mouth, “are you saying you want to date me?”
“I’m saying,” her fingertips brush the now-healing cut on my cheek, concern flashing in her eyes, “that I’m willing to risk my heart with you. That I’m more scared of what life looks like without you than with you.”
“I really am sorry I scared you, Stats,” I thumb away the tears silently falling down her cheeks, kissing the trail left behind. “I’ll try not to do it again.”
“You and I both know the reality of this game,” she says, wrapping her arms around my neck, “but it’ll be easier together. Right?”
“I hope so.”
After one last kiss, I reluctantly let Francine go to her car, and with her address programmed into my phone, I follow her through the city to her apartment so I can pick up Stevie…who is less than happy to see me when I walk through the door behind Francine. Stevie greets Francine before giving my shoes a cursory sniff and curling up on one end of Francine’s couch.
“Stevie,” I sit down beside her on the couch, rubbing her ears the way she likes, “you know I don’t like leaving you, but do you have to do this to me every time I come home?”
I swear my dog rolls her eyes at me, and from behind me, Francine laughs.
“She’s been great,” Francine passes me a bag with all of Stevie’s toys, dishes, and a box of treats that I know I didn’t send, but her ears perk up when it shakes. “We’ve had walks every morning and evening. She’s played at the dog park. And she doesn’t judge when you watch hockey and yell at the refs for terrible calls. Not that I’m speaking from experience.”
“No, of course not.”
“You know,” Francine shifts nervously beside me and I reach out, pulling her down on the couch. She leans into me, an arm around my waist. “You two could stay a little while longer. Maybe for dinner?”
“I think we could do that.” Leaning in to kiss Francine, I’m met with empty air, falling forward into her couch. “Francine?”
She’s standing, wringing her hands, shifting her body between the living room and kitchen. “Can I get you anything?” She asks. “I have tea, coffee, water.”
“Francine,” I catch her wrist in my hand, gently tugging her toward me, “I don’tneedanything but your company. But if you need a few minutes away from me, coffee would be fine.”
“Sorry. I’m a little nervous,” she laughs,“I’m more nervous today than I was on my first day on the job.”
