Delayed Penalty by Shey Stahl
4. Cherry Picking
When a team’s player stays near their opponent’s defensive zone waiting for an outlet to pass in order to receive a breakaway.
Game 46 –Anaheim Ducks
January - Home Game
Evan
I look up at Leo who’s staring at me, looking for an answer to a question I didn’t hear him ask. “What?”
“Did you close the deal with that chick from the bar?”
I shrug one shoulder but don’t answer him as I sit in the locker room wondering what the fuck my problem is. The morning skate fucking sucked. I was all over the ice, missing shots, spent more time on my ass than standing, and earned myself quite the look from Duane. One that probably had him wondering if he could trade my no-good ass midseason.
Leo stands, setting his stick aside, and then points at me. “She’s in your zone, and now you’re cherry picking,” he says. “That’s why you’re upset. You fell for her, and she’s not even awake yet.” Reaching for his stick, he heads to the door with Remy, not even bothering to wait for my answer.
Fuck face. Sometimes I really hate him. Because he’s fucking right.
I follow him into the player’s lounge, wanting to argue my point. “I’m not falling for her. I don’t even know her.”
Leo laughs, reaching for a bottle of water from the cooler. “Yeah, but you want to.”
“So?” I don’t see the problem with getting to know her. Or maybe I do. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. Deny and deter the question seems like a much better idea.
Leo cocks an eyebrow at me. “When was the last time you wanted to get to know anyone because a hockey players D-man skills?”
Okay, maybe he has a point.
Maybe.
It’s been a few weeks since I found Ami in the alley. And every day that I can, I’m with her, sitting in her hospital room, wishing she’d wake up. I suppose that should confirm the fact that’s she’s in my zone.
Wendy tells me she turned eighteen two days ago and didn’t even get to celebrate. I took her a cupcake but ate it myself since she’s not awake.
She’s had three more surgeries and everything looks good but still, she hasn’t woken up. They tell me she will when her body has healed but the unknown is excruciating.
Most hockey players don’t live their lives by the calendar year. For us boys of winter, our lives are dictated by a schedule, a very long schedule from October to March, and longer if we’re lucky. Our lives consist of small breaks in time and are turned upside down nine months of the year. We’re awake half the night, sleep half the day, the morning certainly no different than the afternoon or evening. That’s life on the road. It’s full of high energy, and definitely not a life everyone can lead. It’s exhausting, to say the least. Sometimes I think even I’m not cut out for it.
And then add being attached to a girl I’ve never met before. Talk about mental stupidity. Or unstable. Maybe they’re one and the same. I don’t know at this point.
I ask every day, but so far the police have no leads on her case and are just about to close it. The only lead they have with Blake is quickly put to rest when he gets a good fucking lawyer. I’m sure he took a mortgage out on his dance studio to pay for it because it couldn’t have been cheap. The bottom line and how he’s no longer a suspect? His DNA isn’t a match, and he has an alibi that places him at home after they went to dinner. It doesn’t matter if he has an alibi to me. Something about our conversation, and the way his dark, shifty eyes assessed me that day in the parking lot, tells me he knows a critical detail about that night that he isn’t sharing. Or it’s my mind trying to hold someone accountable.
The rape kit was positive, and the police had the information they needed should the right lead come along, but they basically had nothing. None of the witnesses panned out.
I must have called that fucking hospital twenty times that day, checking for updates once I knew they were taking her off the medication that was keeping her in the induced coma. I wanted so badly to be there when she woke up, but what the fuck would I say? She didn’t know me. I would be lucky if she wanted anything to do with me.
Will she want to know me?
Every passing day, each minute that comes and goes and she doesn’t wake up, adds to the churning in my stomach. I worry about her. So I spend any amount of time I can with her. I find myself sitting there talking about nothing, telling her about me and my life, and when I’m not talking, I sleep in a chair beside her bed. I can’t leave.
I’m granted some relief after nineteen days. That’s when I get the call I’ve been waiting on. The morning of game forty-six, Ami wakes up.
Wendy calls around four in the morning when I’m getting ready to head to our morning skate. I’m fucking tired from the game last night against St. Louis, but when my phone rings and I see it’s the hospital, I answer. “She’s awake” are the words I’ve been waiting on since I found her, and then I want, because we all know I’m greedy, I want to hear “He’s been caught.” I’m smart enough to understand the criminal justice system and know I’ll be hearing one before the other.
I grip the phone tighter. “Are you serious?” I ask, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Yeah, she came out of it two days ago, but the doctor wanted to give her some time,” Wendy adds. “Then when she started to come around, she wanted to know how she got to the hospital.”
“And you said?” I press for more information as I walk toward my bathroom searching for clothes.
“I said Superman brought her in,” Wendy teases.
I laugh, throwing my towel on the tile floor in my bathroom. My eyes catch the city below Trump Towers, quiet and still asleep. My lips curve, knowing the one person I want to wake up is finally awake.
“Seriously, what did you say?”
“I told her a man brought her in and then she asked to meet him,” Wendy says, amusement in her voice. I’m not sure if she’s fucking with me. “So maybe you should come by? She really wants to meet you.”
“Oh.” Fuck, suddenly I’m nervous. She wants to meet me? Did I want that? Why is my stomach flipping around like a fish?
Wendy notices my hesitation. “What’s with you? I thought this would be good news.”
“Nothing’s wrong with me. I just… haven’t had much sleep lately.” I try to play it off, but I’m freaking out a little, and Wendy doesn’t miss a beat.
“Well, are you going to come see her or what? She’s awake now. Don’t be a pussy.”
I miss the fact that she calls me a pussy because all I really care about is what color Ami’s eyes are and if she’s said anything else, but I don’t. “Oh, uh yeah, we play Anaheim tonight. I’ll come by after the game. It’ll be really late though.”
“Okay, I’ll let her know. Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks.” I hang up before I ask anything else that will give me away. I’m kind of glad there’s a game tonight because it’ll give me more time to think about what to say to her.
All through the morning skate, and after what Leo said to me, I can’t stop thinking about Ami. I should be preparing for the game and thinking of nothing but the Anaheim Ducks and how we can beat them. We haven’t seen them since game twenty-four and they beat us 0-3. That isn’t happening again if I can help it.
During practice, Leo and Remy are talking about their night while slapping pucks at Cage, and before he can recover, they slap another one at him.
Skating near them, I lean on my stick, watching, waiting for Cage to react to them. He lets them do this as sort of a warm-up, but right when they aren’t expecting it, he will slap one back at them. Those are the plays I live for.
“You know that feeling when you’re on acid and the world stops just to fuck with you? That’s what it was like.”
Remy gives Leo a concerned look and then slaps another shot toward the net. “Never did acid,” he says, his voice rough this early in the morning. “I really worry that with the hard hits you’ve taken, and your drug use as a kid, you might not have any brain cells left.”
Leo yawns. “I’ve got some left.” He takes cover behind me when Cage takes one off the face mask. He knows what’s coming.
Sure enough, Cage takes a puck and fires it back at us, nailing Remy in the back of the head. Good thing he’s wearing a helmet.
“You fucker!” Remy yells, laughing because he knows why it happened.
Leo skates over to me after warm-ups. “Why are you nervous? Sucked at morning skate and now you’re actin’ weird again.”
“She’s awake,” I tell him, waiting to see what he’ll say.
He blinks a few times. “No shit?”
I nod. “I don’t know what to do. Wendy said she wants to see me but fuck, what do I even do or say?”
“Fuck if I know. But you might want to explain why the world thinks she’s your girlfriend.”
Well, he’s no help, but then again, he never is. Leo can be kinda self-centered. I love him, he’ll have your back until the end, but he’s not great at advice.
Fuck. I’d forgotten about the girlfriend thing.
After the game, I don’t go out with the boys. We won and while it was a good night for me with two goals, three assists and only ten minutes in the penalty box, I’m thankful it’s over. My attention is elsewhere. All I can think about is the girl and wanting to know her.
Outside the arena, I stall for time in my car, trying to work up the courage to head over the hospital. The five-minute drive to the hospital goes slower than it has in the previous weeks because, for once, I can’t get my shit together.
What will I say?
Should I ask about her family?
No. Stupid idea. Let her talk.
What if she can’t talk?
What if she doesn’t want to see me?
No, that’s not true. Wendy said she asked for me.
How the hell am I going to explain everyone thinks she’s my girlfriend?
Don’t lie about it. Just tell her the truth. You wanted to see her so you told everyone she’s your girlfriend.
Telling the truth always works best, right?
Once I make it to the hospital and into the parking garage, I’ve pretty much convinced myself that it’ll be okay. I can walk in there, tell her I’m glad she’s alive, and walk away. Right? Easy enough.
But I don’t get out right away. I listen to the song echoing off the dashboard about a guy waiting on a girl to realize he’s loved her all along. What the fuck, Fate? Is that you playing tricks on me?
I turn it off, reach for my phone in the console and head inside.
Wendy is sitting at the nurses’ station dressed in her street clothes, probably ready to leave when I make it upstairs. She notices me and smiles. “She’s been waiting for you.”
Fuck. Here come the nerves again.
“Cool.” Idiot. Why’d I say that? “Has the doctor seen her since she woke up?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“From what he can tell, she has no memory of the few hours leading up to the attack, as well as the entire attack itself. She doesn’t remember.”
Nodding, my next question is “Did you tell her who I was?”
“You mean did I tell her she has a boyfriend?”
I frown.
“No, I didn’t say anything.” Wendy smiles and motions me toward Ami’s room. “I told her your name, but I didn’t say that you were a hockey player or anything. That’s your business.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into me. “Thanks. I appreciate that.” Or do I? Because now I have to tell her.
Wendy’s smile brightens. “Does that mean you’ll take me to dinner soon?”
I wink at her. “Sure.” No, it’s not a romantic thing with Wendy. I actually like her as a friend. And I’m not lying. I will take her to dinner. Going home with her is another story. I know I can’t do that again and strangely enough, have no desire to.
I’m not sure how but the anxiety of actually meeting Ami, now that she’s awake, is written all over my face. Wendy notices and asks, “What’s going on with you?”
I stall at the entrance to Ami’s room, wishing there were windows so I could see her from the outside, awake, before opening that door. Come on, heart, get your shit together. Stop beating so hard. And while I’m at it, lungs, pull your weight too and draw in a goddamn breath. “I don’t know... what if I’m not who she expected?”
“Though she’s been asleep most of the day, believe me, she’s pretty cool. And any girl would be lucky to be saved by you.” Wendy gives a nod in the direction of the room. “I need to go though. I’m meeting up with some friends for drinks.”
I swallow over my nervousness. At least I think I do. “Thanks for you know, letting me in.” Does my voice sound shaky? It does to me. Or maybe it’s my hold on reality lately.
She hugs me. “You’re welcome.”
Returning the hug, I hope she can’t feel how hard my heart’s beating. When she leaves, I stand outside the room for a few minutes, not knowing what to say. It’s more along the lines of my fucking feet won’t move, and my heart is in my throat.
What if I’m not who she’s expecting?
That’s a big what-if in my head. It’s the one question that’s keeping me from stepping inside. Until now, I’ve never seen her eyes open, witnessed her smile, or heard her voice. She’s never seen me, never heard my voice, looked into my eyes, or felt my touch.
At some point, I must get my balls back because I knock lightly and poke my head inside the door. “Hello?” I call out, waiting.
And then I hear her voice for the first time. “Come in.” It’s sweet like syrup, but a touch raspy from having the tube in her throat for so long. It’s also tender, soft, like she’s nervous maybe.
She’s sitting up; that’s also a first. Her eyes are downcast as she stares at her hands resting on her lap. And then my heart skips when she looks up as I come through the door, her bright starry blue eyes, though tired, meet mine and I smile at her.
Hers are bigger than I imagine and somehow the same cool blue as mine, just brighter. When you look at her pale complexion and then the eyes, they’re misplaced with their clarity and innocence.
I know one thing, I can’t look away from her, and my earlier anxiety is now completely overwhelming. Beneath the eyes is a depth and intensity I’ve never seen in another person. But then again, I’ve never taken the time to really stare at someone before like I am with her. It’s like I’m trying to memorize everything about her at first glance.
Much to my distaste, or maybe lucky timing, the doctor comes in right then.
“I’ll…” I shrug when the doctor pauses and looks at me with a “get the fuck out” expression. “…be in the hall.”
“No,” Ami says, a rasp to her words as she keeps her eyes on mine, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was scared of me walking out that door. “You can stay… if you want. He can stay, right?”
Yeah, like I’d really leave.
“As long as you’re fine with it.” The doctor nods and begins to tell Ami all about her injuries and the procedures they’ve performed on her. Most of which I already knew anyways.
After being around Ami for all of two minutes, I learn a few things. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, which explains the bruises on her fingers and the blood under her nails when I found her. She fought hard for her life.
And she’s adorable. I saw early on how pretty sure is, the delicate innocent features, but her facial expressions and personality cement one thing. I want to get to know her, and any idea I had of walking out of here and never returning isn’t happening. I’m rooted in place and eager to know more.
I find entertainment when she keeps rolling her eyes at the doctor any time he tries to tell her she has a long road to recovery. I dig that. It shows she has determination, something I bleed.
“You’re going to keep us on our toes, aren’t you?” he says to her, smiling when she tells him she’d like a hamburger.
“I don’t know, but I’m starving. When can I have real food?”
He smiles at her. “Let’s give it another day. If you are still able to keep your breathing up, and the swelling in your throat goes down, we’ll talk about getting you some solid food.”
She frowns at him again. “Fine, but after that, food. Greasy good food with lots of carbs.”
He laughs and touches her hand. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Yep. Me and this girl will be friends. Also, I don’t like that he’s touching her. Sue me, but I’m overly protective over this girl and anyone touching her is a no go for me. I’m tempted to put a sign up that says: Hands to yourself.
And I’m thinking I need to listen to the rule too, don’t you?
When the doctor leaves, she turns her attention to me and those beautiful captivating blue eyes look my way. “I was really hoping you were the burger delivery service.”
I chuckle, leaning into the wall, afraid to move closer. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Oh, you didn’t,” she adds, a soft blush to her cheeks.
Huh.
Her gaze moves, down my frame. The nerves return and I wonder what she’s thinking.
“Wow, you’re bigger than I expected.” Ami blinks, smiling.
Say what?
I smile, unsure what to say. What the fuck do you say in a moment like this? “Hey, glad you’re okay.”
No, that seems too... cheesy?
Nervously I clear my throat, trying to gain some composure. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“A good thing.” She motions to the chair I’ve spent almost every night in wondering what this moment would be like. “You can sit... if you want.”
So I sit, awkwardly, but I do sit.
She watches my every move, her gaze roaming over my body again. There’s a rush of blood to my face, and other places with her eyes on mine.
I clear my throat again. It’s the only way I can get my words out. “How are you feeling? Any pain?”
She points to her IV on her hand. “No, they keep me pretty drugged up.” Our eyes connect and I want to stay in this moment with her forever. I know she wasn’t awake for the last few weeks but I feel this intense connection with her now. “Thank you for what you did. I don’t know how I can ever thank you for saving me.”
“No thanking necessary.” My elbows rest uncomfortably on my knees, unable to relax, knees bouncing. “I couldn’t leave you out there.”
Awkwardly, there’s a nervous energy swirling around the room, and every breath I take, she does the same, as if we’re trying to breathe for each other, say what the other needs. Stumbling over words, we talk about the hospital staff and what they did to save her, but then we’re left in silence again.
Ami, no doubt noticing the silence has settled, lets out a small soft laugh. “Do you know Wendy?”
“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a few weeks at least.”
She nods, her eyes on her hands. Thankfully, the bruises are disappearing, and if you look at her now, aside from the bandaged head and pale face, you’d never know she’d been injured with a smile and eyes like that. “She told me all about you earlier.”
My stomach flips, my heart pounding. “Hopefully all good things.”
“Definitely good things,” she says softly, her blink a little heavier than the last. “I heard you’re my boyfriend.”
Shit, maybe she’s tired. I hadn’t realized how late it is. My hands grab the edge of the chair, ready to stand up if she tells me to leave. “I should let you get some sleep.” And then, right then, that’s when it hits me what she said. Boyfriend. Fuck. My eyes snap to hers and she smiles. “Oh, uh, shit.” Her smile widens. “Sorry about that.”
“You told them we were dating?”
“In not so many words, but yes. I wanted to see you and they wouldn’t let me unless we were family.”
Her eyes search mine. “That was sweet of you.”
“I had to know you were okay.”
“I don’t know if I’m okay… but I’m alive.” Her hand reaches up to touch the side of the bandage and then falls back to the bed. If I didn’t know any better, she’s stalling for time, asking questions to get me to stay longer. “They cut my hair, didn’t they?”
“Yeah, they had to,” I tell her, relaxing into the chair and looking at my hands. My knuckles are swollen and tight from fighting in the game earlier. “It’ll grow back, though.” I give her a wink before I realize what I did. Fuck. That’s forward. I shouldn’t have done that. Is she freaked out?
To my surprise, she smiles again, seeming to get lost in my words anytime I speak, and I can’t get over how good it feels to see that smile I didn’t even know I missed. How’s that happen?
I want to say so much, but I can’t. The words still aren’t there, and I don’t want to scare her with everything I want to ask her. I need to get my shit together first.
“I really should let you get some rest.”
Her face falls slightly, and I can tell she doesn’t want to me to leave. “Oh, okay.” She glances down again, her fingers fidgeting with the IV tube in her hand. “It’s late, I suppose.”
I swear to God, my cheeks flush. I don’t know why, but they do. “I just thought...” Fuck. And, I’m staring at her again. I want so bad to stop staring, but I can’t. I don’t know what it is, but I find her confusion and fascination in me so goddamn adorable.
Her eyes flicker between mine and my lips as we stare at each other.
“I get it if you have to leave. Thanks for coming to say hello.” She offers another soft smile, shifting in the bed. “It’s nice to have someone to fill the silence.”
Then I think I can stay until she falls asleep. God knows I don’t want to leave. Now I have the perfect excuse. “I could stay... if you want,” I suggest. “I used to just sit here and watch movies. Wendy hooked me up with the good channels.”
Those bright blue eyes brighten as her face lights up. “That sounds good.”
She reaches for the remote beside her bed the same time I do and our fingertips connect. It’s not the first time I’ve touched her, but it’s the first time I have touched her with life in her, if that makes sense. Before there was nothing there. Now, it’s like I’m touching a star and electricity shots through my entire body from the tips of my fingers to my toes. Pathetic. Fucking pathetic.
I nervously laugh and pull my hand back, not knowing what else to do. She smiles again and stares at me. “Sorry, I think I shocked you.”
I’m gone. Fucking goo in this girl’s hands for no reason other than I’ve never felt a connection like this before.
I know why she wants me here. She doesn’t want to be alone, and I don’t want her to be. It’s part of the reason I kept coming to the hospital. She has no one right now. If I don’t come, who will?
Blake.
Fuck that shit. I don’t even want her living with him anymore. I’m ready to ask her to move in, as crazy as that sounds.
I’ll tell you something else. I can’t tell you what movie is playing. My eyes are only on her, in a non-creepy stalker way. She’s different than the girls I meet at bars.
We end up watching a movie, which one, I don’t know. I’m hardly paying attention because I’m tired after the game. Before I know it, I start nodding off.
When I wake up, Ami is asleep, curled to the side with a peacefulness about her. Whispering goodnight to her, I sneak out quietly after leaving a note beside her bed that says:
I’ll see you tomorrow. — Evan
When I close the door behind me, I lean against it and close my eyes, then slide down the length of the door until I’m seated on the floor. I press the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to hold back any emotion I have.
She’s awake and that attraction, that draw that kept me coming back, is intensified to the point where I know I’ll never be able to leave this girl alone.
Once I get back to my apartment and into bed, I only have about two hours before our morning skate. I can’t sleep, thinking about what happened to her.
Part of me, a part I frequently tell to shut up, wonders what I can possibly offer someone like Ami. Maybe friendship, but for someone who spends the majority of the fall through spring traveling, it’s hard to offer her anything else.
Then again, will she even be interested in me?
You’re so far ahead of yourself it’s pathetic.
What’s pathetic is the fact that I’m even thinking like this. Leo is right. I am cherry picking.
