Page 31 of Fake Out Hearts

Theo

I don’t know what feels worse: my aching body after another rough practice, or the way I beat up on myself for it when I step into the showers after. Usually, the hot water helps clear my head after a few grueling hours on the ice, but today it just seems to keep bringing up more thoughts along with the rising steam.

I feel like I’m caught in a fucked-up loop. I know I haven’t been playing my best lately—and so does everyone else, according to my mom—and even though I know better, I can’t help carrying that bullshit with me every time I lace up my skates. Which only makes me play worse. Rinse, repeat.

It’s infuriating. But the worst part about it is that I don’t know how to make it stop. Or if I even can. And now that I know there’s speculation about the Aces not renewing my contract…

Knock it the fuck off, Camden.There’s no time for a pity party.

I shake my head under the water to try and clear it. I can’t give in to that irritating little voice nagging at me in the back of my head because it’s a slippery slope that never leads to anything good. Besides, Becca’s arriving today, so I need to get my shit together for her sake. She has enough to worry about, I don’t need her worrying about me too.

I wash up quickly, towel off, and get dressed. I’m hoping not to have a run-in with Noah or any of the other guys before I slip out of here to head to the airport, but no luck. As soon as I step out of the locker room, I find Noah waiting for me, leaning up against the thick plexiglass barrier between the ice and the stands. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s got that disapproving dad look on his face that he does so well.

“What’s the rush?” he asks.

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” I answer cryptically, and Noah chuckles.

“Come on, Camden, cut the crap. You’re going to pick up Becca, aren’t you?”

“So what if I am?” I’m not really in the mood to explain myself after the beating I just took on the ice, mentally and physically. So maybe I’m being a little too forceful with Noah, but whatever. To my surprise, he sighs and drops his arms.

“What you do in your personal life is your business. I’m hardly one to talk shit about mixing work and pleasure,” he says, referring to his relationship with Margo. Well, at least he’s not totally oblivious. “I’m just worried about you, man. You’ve been having a rough time lately, and I’m concerned this Becca situation could, well, you know,” he continues and shrugs.

“No, I don’t,” I say flatly, even though I know exactly where he’s going with this.

“I don’t know,distractyou more,” he says, and although it stings, I don’t take the bait. “I don’t say that because I don’t want you to be happy, Camden. You know me better than that by now. I just want to see you get your groove back. I don’t like seeing you struggle like this.”

“Thanks,” I say, surprised. Maybe I didn’t know where he was going with this conversation.

“Of course. I’m your captain, I’ll always have your back. Just be careful with this whole Becca thing, okay? I don’t want to see you get hurt or get into any trouble over it.”

“It won’t be a problem, I promise,” I insist, and Noah nods.

“Alright. I trust you. Now you’d better get going before you’re late to pick up your new wife,” he says with a grin, and I punch him on the shoulder on my way out of the arena. It’s a short drive from there to the airport, so I’m a few minutes early. We’re not supposed to linger in the pickup area, but I don’t give a damn, so I park right outside the door to baggage claim and decide to text Becca.

ME: I’m here and right outside the door when you’re ready. Hopefully, the cops don’t run me off before then.

She doesn’t answer, but she’s probably in a rush to get her bags and get outside. I’m sure she’ll check her phone when she has a second, so I relax in my seat and wait. But I don’t have to wait long before the gorgeous, dark-haired woman who is now my wife steps out of the sliding doors and flashes me a beaming smile when she spots me through the tinted windows of my car.

Fuck, she’s even more beautiful than I remembered.

I jump out of the car and hurry over to take the two giant rolling bags she brought with her. She shipped the rest of her belongings out, and they all arrived last night, so this is probably the most important stuff she needed to carry with her.

I’m not sure what’s appropriate as a greeting, so I lean in to kiss her on the cheek, but she does the same thing, and we end up knocking our foreheads together.

“Ow.” She laughs softly, putting a hand to her head.

“Shit, sorry.” I take her hand, checking to make sure she doesn’t have a bump on her forehead or anything. “I guess we’re going to need to practice that one a bit more.”

“Right. Sorry, I’m just not used to this. But… it’s good to see you again,” she adds, her cheeks flushing an adorable pink color.

“Yeah, you too, princess,” I say.

We’re still standing very close together, and I realize I haven’t dropped her hand yet. She smells amazing, a combination of vanilla and lavender that I remember well from our night together, and as our gazes meet, I realize that as crazy as it sounds, I missed her.

I clear my throat, forcing myself to let go of her delicate hand and step back. “How was your flight?”

“It was great,” she answers as she passes me her bags. “Thank you so much for getting the ticket. You really didn’t have to buy me a seat in first class.”

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