Reckless King

by Maya Hughes

  He ran his thumb over my knuckles. His usual lightness was dimmed. Having someone so close to you get hurt wasn’t easy to deal with. He was hurting, and I hated it. I wanted to do anything I could to fix it, but sometimes there’s nothing you can do. Sometimes all you can do is make them smile and hope it’s enough.

  “What did you want to eat? I was thinking to ask if they had some chocolate lava cake.”

  I dipped my head to try to catch his eye. A hint of a smile turned up the corners of his lips. I reversed the hold he had on my hand and ran my fingertips over his palm.

  “It’s okay to be sad. The shock is harder to handle. It’s always unexpected when someone close to you is hurt like this.”

  His pulse picked up under my fingers. “Someone nearly killed him.” The muscles in his jaw popped.

  I climbed out of my side of the booth and slid in beside him. “Life has a way of blindsiding you when you least expect it. He’s okay. He’s awake and talking—that’s a miracle right there. And his girlfriend is fine.” I wrapped my arm around his. “I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but things could have been a lot worse. A hell of a lot worse.”

  He gave me a grim nod and stared down at the menu.

  “What can I get you?” Our server stood at the end of the table with her notepad ready.

  “I’ll have a cheeseburger and fries and a cranberry juice.”

  The server turned to Heath who was still shell-shocked. The lost look in his eyes broke my heart. It had been a long time since I’d had to deal with someone I loved getting hurt. I’d pushed those memories aside so they didn’t haunt me at night.

  “I’ll have the same,” he mumbled.

  The waitress gathered our menus, and we sat in silence. I rested my cheek against his shoulder. He dropped his chin on the top of my head.

  “I need him to pull through this and be okay.” His voice was rough and raw. “He’s the kind of guy who’d do anything for anyone, and the thought of him not being okay…” He stopped. “I’ve got to do this for him and show him how good he’s made us.”

  “You guys have won the championship for the past three years, right?” I’d heard some pretty big celebrations last year when I was studying in the library.

  So many emotions welled in his eyes that it made my hands itch to touch him. “Yeah, we have. But he’s the glue.” He closed his eyes and blinked away the glittering tears that tried to escape. I held him tighter, determined to let him know I’d be there for him. We might not have known each other for long, but this wasn’t something I could let go. He wasn’t someone I could let go.

  “And you’ll be the glue too. You can do this, Heath. Your coach wouldn’t have made you captain if he didn’t believe in you. Preston too. I’ve seen you be pretty persistent and persuasive about something you want. There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll get your team where they need to be.”

  We ate and talked about our lives growing up in the city. His major and what he’d do after graduation. Going to the NHL was intense, but I didn’t really doubt he could do it with how well the team had done.

  He dropped me off at home, and I went inside, closing the door behind me, feeling more drained than I’d felt in forever. Mom, Dad, and Lauren were watching a movie. I gave them a hug and climbed into bed still in my clothes. Between my night with Heath and our day at the hospital, I felt like I could sleep for a week.

  My gaze darted to the desk drawer. The crumpled and creased letter sat in there. I took it out and traced her handwriting with my fingers. I’d set my email to archive anything else that came in from her, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw out the letter. I ran my fingers along her sloped, looping words and crushed it to my chest.

  What if she really was clean and sober? What if she really did want to make amends and try to have a relationship? What if I couldn’t handle it all and everything fell apart?

  16

  Heath

  My phone exploded off the concrete wall of the dank locker room. A few heads turned my way, and I ran my fingers through my sweat-soaked hair. Fuck!

  I couldn’t stop the shaking. My hands were bouncing all over the place. We’d lost. It was a demoralizing loss: 9-2 against a team we’d destroyed every time we’d played them. Our first away game since Preston had been injured. My first game as the captain, and I was already fucking up.

  “Heath, dude! What the hell?” Kaden, one of our freshman fighters, came out of the shower and tightened the towel around his waist.

  “It’s fine.” I waved him off. Like he had any fucking room to talk. He’d only recently pulled his head out of his ass.

  “No, it’s not fine if you’re freaking out like this.” He stepped closer, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

  “He said he’s fine, so he’s fine.” Declan dragged a towel over his head and pushed Kaden back. “Back off and give him some space.”

  I dropped my head and stared at the remnants of my phone. Damn it. I was supposed to call Kara.

  “We’re all off our game without Preston. Don’t let it get to you. Have a shower, and we’ll meet you at the bus. Get a good night’s sleep, and we’ll have a good game tomorrow.”

  He gave me a slap on the back, and I ripped all my gear off, slamming it to the floor and headed into the shower. The water was freezing cold. I gritted my teeth as the icy spray washed over me. Maybe this would help get things under control or maybe numb me enough that I felt like I could function without ripping this place apart.

  The ride to the hotel was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The team was tired and beaten down. Every call that should have gone our way hadn’t. Every whistle blow had been for us before I even heard the ref’s call. The streetlights whipped by, shining in my eyes as I stared into the darkness out there.

  What if I couldn’t do it? What if I fucked this up or worse, lost it on the ice? Or off the ice? I’d never had to deal with this before. So much rested on my shoulders, and all I wanted to do was talk to Kara. Too bad I’d turned my phone into a million little pieces back in the locker room.

  I didn’t have her number memorized, which meant I couldn’t even call from the hotel. This was what happened when you lost your temper. You fucked things up: I’d already had to change my schedule around for the semester.

  With the added pressure of being the team captain and everything going on with Preston, I’d changed my classes. Independent study and a few other requirements were all I needed to graduate and to keep my eligibility for the semester. I stared at the ceiling for a long time with nothing but the patter of rain against the windows outside. Even after playing, I still buzzed with energy. Flipping on the tv, the unmistakable bright red Ferrari and the bass of “Oh Yeah” came on screen. Ferris stood beside Cameron trying to talk him into a day of cookie. I switched it off. Even John Hughes wasn’t enough to soothe the burning in my chest. All it made me think of was Kara.

  I slipped out of my room and used my room key to get into the gym downstairs. Outside the window, the leaves on the trees rustled in the whipping wind, and I pushed my hands against the freezing push bar to the door outside. Wind stung my face. My feet slapped against the concrete and grass as I took off through the corporate park beside the hotel. Numbness settled into my limbs in a way it didn't on the ice, and I ran, pushing my taxed muscles even harder. Exhaustion was the only thing that would knock me out now. If I couldn’t hear Kara’s voice, the blankness of sheer exertion would have to do. I stared straight ahead at the rain coming down in sheets against the windows overlooking the parking lot. The dreams would have to comfort me for now because that was all I had.

  17

  Kara

  The first week of classes was always hectic, even more so when your department head decided she wanted to extend her Christmas break an extra week and sent out assignments the day before classes started. Everything was a mess. Heath sent an email that his phone was broken. It helped smoothed out those ragged edges of uncertainty that had popped up
when I hadn’t heard from him in a while. But he was busy and so was I, we’d see each other soon.

  Schedules were screwed up and classes were behind before they’d started. The second I rounded the corner to Stevenson’s office, I tried to backtrack; but his beady little eyes snapped up and I was caught. Plastering on my best I-hate-your-guts smile, I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and marched toward Jason like I was headed for a Stormtrooper firing squad.

  “Kara.” His lips were in a grim line as he flipped through the papers in his hand.

  “Jason.” I spotted the box on the floor filled with envelopes with our names on them. The stack of thesis proposals determined whether we’d have an advisor for the PhD program. I’d worked night and day on mine for months before turning it in, excited about what my research could do. My fingers tingled like I’d fallen asleep on my hands as I got closer to Professor Stevenson’s office.

  Jason stood practically on top of the box where our final papers from before the break were stacked. I glanced over at him in the telltale are-you-going-to-move way, and he kept paging through his packet like no one else existed in the world, which was probably what he thought. Clearing my throat did absolutely nothing, as he continued to ignore me.

  When was she going to join the twenty-first century and put these things online? Crouching down, I snagged my envelope second from the top and ripped it open. I tugged the small stack of papers out.

  I should have been elated. I should have been jumping up and down, but I stared at the grade on my paper and could only muster the slightest bit of happiness. What was I doing? I glanced up at Jason, and a sharp, cold zap shot through me. He’d craned his neck to check out my paper as I’d stood.

  The bright red circled A on the front hadn’t set well with him from the pursed-lipped, generally unpleasant look on his face. In his snooping haze he’d let the top of his paper flop over, so I saw the upside-down A- on his paper.

  Ah, there was the happiness. I wondered how much it had to do with the program and how much of it had to do with showing him up. Stifling a smirk, I kept my face neutral. Well, as neutral as I could with a shit-eating grin ready to burst out and smack Jason in the face. It seemed being a brownnose didn’t always guarantee the best grades.

  I slid the envelope into my bag. I’d go over her comments later, but for now, I could bask in the fact that I hadn’t screwed it up and I’d gotten a better grade than Jason. That last bit was a cherry-on-top moment I couldn’t resist.

  “Are you applying for the Montfort Fellowship?”

  He knew I was. Everyone in the program knew. “Of course.”

  A small sound of disapproval shot out of his mouth, and I was a second away from literally shoving my A in his face.

  “Good luck.” He bit it out like it was a curse he was trying to put on me to make me lose all my hair and drop twenty IQ points.

  “You too.” My broad smile and sunny tone made him glower even harder, which made me smile even brighter. Suck a bag of dicks, Jason!

  The freezing January air made everything worse. I waded through the slushy, slick walkways crisscrossing campus. The beginning of the semester was insane. Not only did I have to deal with my classes and the quantitative exam coming up, but I had to handle my TA duties. Three independent studies and two small group recitations. Since Stevenson was a dinosaur, she didn’t email us our assignments, we had to go to her office to pick them up.

  This would have been fine if she were ever in her office. The only reason I’d gotten the thesis review was they’d finally opened the main building after the break. Those had been sitting there outside her door since the first day of the break when she’d unhelpfully decided to let us know where they were, but we hadn’t been able to get to them.

  I’d contemplated a heist-movie type break-in to get my hands on that paper, but had instead settled on eating all the cookie dough I could to help me forget. But not having anything else for my Calc courses meant I wasn’t going to find out anything about my students until I hunted her down. All I knew were room numbers and times. The students added and dropped classes so often, the lists wouldn’t be up-to-date until after the add/drop period.

  My first couple classes weren’t too bad. The sophomore recitation session was to check in and go over the guidelines for the semester. There wasn’t anything to review, since they hadn’t had their first official class yet. Rushing to the bookstore, I requested a new set of textbooks for the class that Stevenson had neglected to order for the start of the semester.

  The good vibes quickly wore off as the hunger pangs hit. I stopped off at the coffee shop and got a bacon bagel and a cup of coffee to tide me over until dinner. I needed to unload the books before I snapped in half under the weight of what seemed like a small fortune in textbooks.

  I shoved the last of my bagel into my mouth and dusted the crumbs off my shirt. At times like these, my stomach let me know I’d gone too long without eating, it was all about cramming as much food into my mouth as possible before I turned into a fire-breathing monster.

  I checked with the departmental admin about my assigned office for the independent study sessions. It was the same from the previous semester. I kind of hated this building. It was so old and dreary, like the land renovations forgot.

  Every other building on campus had been updated and buffed to a high shine, but not the Ansel Building, which meant the floors creaked, the windows rattled, and I expected a ghost to come floating down the hall any second. Why were these old buildings so dark? While the labs were pristine our biochem offices were less so.

  An email sent from Stevenson about twenty minutes ago let me know I’d have an extra independent study student. I wasn’t going to tell her I was already over the workload for the semester because it wouldn’t do me any good.

  I’d worked with one independent study student the semester before, and it was always interesting to see what the students came up with. It would have been great to know at least something about them, but again, Stevenson only cared about her pet projects in the biochem department.

  I was already three minutes late. I hated being late. Double-checking the office number, I rushed down the hall. Of course my shared office was the office the farthest away from everything. The most isolated room in the creepiest building on campus. Perfect.

  Taking a second to compose myself, I pushed into the classroom and came face-to-face with my new student for the semester. Everything happened in slow motion as he turned around, his blond hair vaguely familiar. And that’s when I realized I was in big trouble. Not big trouble, but huge, holy shit you’re in for it trouble when I stood in front of the student I was supposed to spend a few hours per week tucked away with in this tiny office.

  He smiled at me with that lazy, charged smile, and a jolt shot through me, nearly buckling my knees. Heath. My cup slid out of my hands, and I prepared myself for the messy, spray of scalding hot coffee to explode at my feet.

  18

  Heath

  Shocked doesn’t even begin to describe what shot through me as my independent study TA stepped through the door. Her dark brown eyes and wavy hair had played a prominent part in many of my fantasies over the past couple weeks. With everything happening with Preston, our games, and being the new captain, I hadn’t been able to carve out time to see or talk to her, not since our drive after the hospital. We were supposed to see each other tomorrow.

  It frustrated me to no end that between traveling, being on the ice, and in the hospital, I hadn’t been able to see her; but it looked like the universe had found a way to reward my patience. The door to the musty old office clicked open, and I came face-to-face with the woman I couldn’t get out of my mind.

  Coffee cup in one hand, a stack of books in the other, and her laptop bag slung across her, she burst into the room like a woman on a mission. Her blue button-down top and black pants were the picture of professionalism, but I knew what was underneath. The slight strain of the buttons on her top had me replaying
our three nights together in vivid detail.

  Lightning-fast reflexes definitely came in handy when snagging a piping-hot cup of coffee that’s about to splatter all over the floor. Grabbing the cup midair, I righted it. Only a couple drops splashed out of the small opening onto my hand. I didn’t even feel the burn, but my grin was so wide I felt it in my toes.

  “Kara.” Her name came out like the first gasp after being sucked under a monster wave. Sucking in the fresh air of possibilities. My phone was still broken from a couple days ago. I’d been on the ice every second I wasn’t in class. “You’re my independent study advisor.”

  “Shit.” It came out as a whisper, like maybe she didn’t even realize she’d said it. With wide eyes she whipped around and closed the door behind her. I sat on the edge of the desk and watched the scarlet flush travel all over her body. I liked the look of that and the closed door behind her. The small frosted-glass window meant there were so many possibilities for our sessions together. The desk seemed sturdy enough.

  She took the couple steps to the desk, tucking her hair behind her ear and setting her books down on the desk. Unloading everything, she stared down at her books for a couple seconds, like maybe she thought I’d disappear if she ignored me.

  I slid her coffee into her line of sight, and her head snapped up. Her eyes were not the picture of the playful, uninhibited, and ready-to-roll-with-it woman from our times together. These eyes were guarded and wary.

  “Would you mind taking a seat?” She gestured to the worn, green leather seat in front of the desk.

  “I’m good right here.” I leaned into the desk and peered down her top. The lacy cups of her bra barely contained her breasts, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on them again.