Page 31 of Game Misconduct

Her eyes glinted with something mischievous. “Good idea. After all, friends go out to dinner all the time.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. She was enjoying this trial period more than I was. It probably had to do with seeing me out of my comfort zone, something she was constantly pushing me to do.

“Let me know when you and AJ are free, and I’ll check with him.”

She did a little happy dance on her way to her desk while I crossed the floor to mine. This wasn’t a double date. I’d have to figure out a way to make that clear to everyone involved. It was just an excuse for me to get to know my best friend’s love interest better. Parker was coming to balance the numbers.

That night when I got home, there was a white, rectangular box waiting in front of the door. A small note was attached with my name and address written across the back. I carried it inside with me, calling out to see if Jess was home, but she didn’t respond.

I took off my coat and hung it up next to my purse before setting the box on the kitchen counter and removing the lid. A Fury jersey was meticulously folded inside in a way that made sure the logo on the front and numbers on the sleeves weren’t bent. I lifted it and turned it around. Garrison was stitched across the back. Parker’s jersey? I didn’t order this.

I carefully laid it flat and took a picture, then sent it to him, asking if he was behind the delivery. I bit my lip, wondering what it meant. My heart raced until my phone lit up with his reply of a simple yes.

One word, and my stomach flipped. He’d thought about me enough to not only want me to wear his number, but he sent it to me?

I touched the slick fabric and smiled. I now had my very own jersey to wear to the games. He must not have thought my hoodie was sufficient. Plus, this took away the decision that had been looming over me of who’s jersey to get. I’d been going between Hartman, since he was captain and a safe choice, and Mitch or Parker.

Now I didn’t have to make up my mind.

If it wasn’t a gift from someone on the team, I would have thought it was too much. Jerseys were expensive. It was why I was waiting to purchase my own until I narrowed it down. The players probably got an allotment or something though. Maybe he just asked Chloe, and she made it happen. That wouldn’t have surprised me.

How it happened didn’t matter. He thought of me and wanted me to wear his number. That’s what friends did.

Well, it was also what wives and girlfriends did. And millions of fans, so maybe it wasn’t as personal as I was making it out to be.

I sent him a thank you before taking the jersey to my room and hanging it up. It stood out next to my business casual attire, but I liked the contrast. It was the perfect visual representation of the changes in my life. My world was expanding, and now I had physical proof.

My phone chimed, and I checked it to see a message from Mitch asking if I was home and free. I replied yes to both and a few seconds later, there was a knock at the door.

I hurried to answer it and found him leaning against the door frame, looking uncharacteristically grim. “Hey, come in.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled and went directly to the couch.

I followed and sat at an angle to face him. “What’s going on?”

“I just had to get away.” He swallowed. “This was the first place I thought of.”

I was touched, but still too concerned to focus on that. “What or who did you need to get away from?”

He rubbed his face. “Myself.”

Huh. This was not what I expected from a visit with him. Mitch was one of the most positive people I’d ever met. When we went to dinner, I had a side cramp before the appetizers even arrived from laughing so hard.

“Tell me what’s going on.” I wanted to reach out to him, but I wasn’t sure of what he wanted or needed yet.

“Are we alone?” He glanced up at me.

“Yeah, Jess isn’t here. She’s been working late this week.”

He nodded. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I know we’ve only just met, but I can tell you don’t care about who I am, as far as being a professional athlete. You’ve made an effort to actually get to know me. You don’t even call me Dory like everyone else.”

I shrugged, trying to downplay my anxiety. What did ‘do this’ mean? “It didn’t seem like you liked that name.”

“It’s fine. Most of the guys have nicknames or go by their last name, but it’s nice for someone to actually look at me and see, well, me. Mitch.”

I admitted to him at dinner that I’d been intimidated when we first met. Not because of who he was on the ice. I didn’t know enough to let that influence me, but he was just so large. He seemed like a force the first time I saw him walk into the ballroom. The man sitting before me was so different from that memory, I was speechless. I hated seeing him in so much pain, but I wasn’t sure what to do to help.

“I suppose it’s my fault. I’ve let people see who they wanted to for so long that I fell into that role. I let it become who I was, even though it wasn’t true. It was easy to let them think they were right in their assumptions than to step up and correct them.”