Shutout | Complete

Chapter 25

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. There was something so pure about the way Hendrix interacted with the children on the ice. He was so invested in them—so attentive. I couldn't even begin to imagine what he was going to be like with his own kids.

A pang of something sharp twisted in my chest. Was I ripping this away from him? Hendrix was the kind of guy you only wanted the best for, the type who made you believe that there were still good people out there. And that was exactly why this was going to be so damn hard.

Practice came to an end. The sharp cry of Hendrix's whistle brought all six of the kids towards him in a tight huddle. They all stared up at him, hanging on to his every word as he spoke. All I could make out was the deep murmuring of his voice. At the end of the huddle, he bopped each one of them on the helmet, sending them towards the open rink door just as the Zamboni made its way onto the ice.

My fingers twisted around the fabric of my coat, nails digging into the palm of my hand. This was it—I had to tell him now. But instead of heading towards the pad with the rest of the parents, I found myself frozen to my seat.

"Alright, that's practice! Great job today, everyone!" Hendrix's voice carried across the rink.

I sunk in my chair, weighing my options. Maybe I could try confronting him again in a more private setting? Hendrix beamed at one of the parents who greeted him by the bench as he removed his skates. I couldn't bear being the reason why that smile disappeared.

A shuddering breath passed my lips. I shouldn't have come here.

Realizing I wasn't ready to have this conversation, I rose from my seat, inching my way towards the exit. I was halfway down the steps when I noticed Hendrix at the bottom of the stands. My escape plan was falling apart at the seams.

Hendrix's cheeks were flushed from the cold. His breath formed into clouds as he spoke. "You came all this way and you're not even going to say hi?" His whisky smooth voice melted the frost that had begun to form on my heart.

"Uh, no, I—" I stumbled over my words, a shiver rippling through me. "I didn't want to interrupt."

"Not possible," he said, pushing his hands deeper into the pocket of his sweatpants. "I always have time for you."

I swallowed, my throat so dry it was like sandpaper. "How's your head?"

A slight smile touched Hendrix's lips. "I was cleared yesterday."

"That's great," I whispered, an ounce of pressure eased off my chest. "No more light sensitivity?"

Hendrix shook his head back and forth. I admired how the lip of his baseball cap framed his chiseled face. "Nope. Although, I am going to miss playing board games with you by candlelight."

And there it was. The uncomfortable reality of our situation settled between us again. "Sorry for being so... off lately," I said, my fragile apology hanging in the air.

"Hey, no worries." He shrugged, shoulders at ease. "We all have those days, right?"

"More like weeks," I laughed, but it was hollow even to my ears.

"Want to talk about it?" he offered.

I gnawed on my bottom lip, wrapping my arms around myself again. "Not yet," I breathed. "But I'll take you up on that soon."

Not like I have much of a choice.

"I've just been stressed lately," I continued when he didn't say anything.

It wasn't a lie. I had been stressed. We were smack in the middle of midterms. Add all the bullshit that had been going on with Liam, and Hendrix getting hurt, and I was in way over my head.