This time, Maddox had shown up while I was only kind of twitchy, but I hadn’t started going downhill. Just having him here was enough to level me out, and after a minute or two, I felt stupid for how wound up I’d been before he’d walked in. This wasn’t a crisis—it was a new relationship. Or something.
Get a grip, dude.
I rolled some stiffness out of my shoulders. “We should, um, suit up before Coach comes looking for us.”
“You’re good?”
“Yeah.” I managed to smile. “I’m good. Let’s go kick some ass.”
He finally smiled, gave my shoulder a firm squeeze and got up. “Sounds like a plan. How about we beat these assholes this time?”
I laughed as I stood. “Well maybe if you remember how to handle the puck, we can—”
“Fuck you.” He punched my arm playfully. “Go put your skates on, dickhead.”
FaceTime tonight?
My toes curled inside my shoes. Fuck yeah, FaceTime tonight. We’d done it a couple of times so far, and though it had been a few days since we’d seen each other in person, it was always great to talk to him face to face…even if it did mean I was awake all night simultaneously fantasizing about getting him into bed and coming up with every imaginable way that would be a disaster.
What could I say? My brain was a weird place. Every time I saw Devin’s face or read one of his texts, I was both excited because this was really happening and freaking the hell out because it was really happening. I had no idea if the next thing I did or said might bring it all to a screeching halt, or if I wanted to bring it to a screeching halt just so I could fucking relax.
And with seven o’clock coming up fast, my nerves were going wild. Settled into my hotel room, I watched TV to kill time, cutting my eyes toward the clock every minute or so as it steadily inched toward seven. Every passing minute, I was more excited and more nervous. By the time it was six-thirty, I was a wreck, but at least I knew I was pretty good at hiding that, especially if we were talking on FaceTime instead of in person. God knew I’d had years of practice pretending I was chill when I was absolutely not.
I closed my eyes and took some slow, deep breaths. I knew I was overreacting and overthinking this. That was the fucked-up thing about when my head did this to me—I knew it was just my idiot brain looking for something to freak out over, but it was damn convincing and incredibly hard to ignore.
Especially when I was heading into something completely unknown. Dating a man. Dating a single parent. Dating Devin. I tried to reassure myself this wasn’t my first dating rodeo, but that only made things worse because my mind had plenty of ammunition to freak me out over how badly those past rodeos had been. So I switched gears and tried to think of this as something totally new. I could still blow it, and I probably would blow it, but I wasn’t a proven failure at this yet, so… So that made me a little less anxious, and I ran with it instead of questioning it.
I ran with it, and I waited for seven to roll around so I could see his face and talk to him.
Seven o’clock came and went.
Then seven-thirty.
Then eight.
What didn’t come was the FaceTime request from Devin. No text, either. Was he waiting for me to make the connection? Oh shit, was he sitting there wondering why I hadn’t called?
I stared at my phone for a full minute, trying to figure out what to say. Then I wrote out a text, rewrote it a few times, and finally sent: We still on for tonight?
That wasn’t too much, was it? Passive aggressive? Straight-up aggressive?
Either way, he didn’t answer.
I debated texting Maddox or Kuznetsov. Sometimes Maddox crashed early when we didn’t have a game. Kuznetsov was a night owl, though. Would he mind going down to the hotel bar for a “no I’m totally fine I’m just bored and yes we both know you can see right through me” beer?
Except what if Devin called or texted?
I’d wait a little longer. If he didn’t call or text, well…then I guess I’d figure it out.
I tried to keep myself occupied by watching hockey highlights on YouTube, but I spent more time glancing at the clock