Page 112 of Uniquely in Love

“Definitely,” she insisted. “Now let’s go get food. I’mstarving.”

“Great. I need a drink.” Laughing, I let her pull me along,chatting with the other girls and hanging out with the people that had become my friends over the last few weeks.

We went down to rink side for warm-ups, before Soph and I finally headed to our seats for the night.

Lauren was almost ready to pop, so she insisted on staying in the wives’ room, saying she could watch the game on the TV. I was pretty sure her husband was fretting over her more than usual, because she was so close to her due date, but she seemed content being here, rubbing her belly as she watched the screen.

Being close to the action on the ice was my favorite, so I couldn’t complain about the tickets, even if I had no desire to know how much Owen spent on them. He rarely threw his money around—or reminded me he was making millions every year—but I could tell this mattered to him.

And his coach seemed happy to have his daughter at his games. They seemed close, just from watching how they’d interact, and it made me miss my own parents. Owen’s were coming up soon, and I couldn’t wait to see my Aunt Noelle and Uncle Matthew—even if they weren’t blood related, I’d grown up at their house. And the last few months felt like eternity when I was used to seeing them every weekend.

“I love having you here,” Sophia confessed from my side as I licked ice cream off my cone. I’d wanted a sweet treat during the second intermission, and even though it was cold in the arena, I couldn’t deny myself a swirl soft serve cone. “It’s nice to have someone to hang out with.”

“Ditto, Soph.” I leaned my head on her shoulder. She was two years older than me, and in some ways, our relationship felt so much like Abigail and I’s. We texted constantly—often sending each other hockey clips we’d found on social media or funny posts—and I appreciated having a friend here in Seattle. “I’m so glad we became friends.”

Talking to her was justeasy, and we hadn’t stopped the entire game, unless the guys had gotten a goalso we could cheer, or when Sophia had stood up to yell at the refs for their bad calls. I told her all about my class and how school was going, and she talked to me about her job as a personal trainer and how much she loved it.

I also noticed every time Rhodes Larsen ended up on the ice, her eyes didn’t seem to leave it, tracking him. She let out a little gasp when someone from the Florida team slammed him against the boards.Interesting.

It seemed like Sophia Donovan had a little crush on her dad’s star forward. I was rooting for her—at the very least, my girl deserved some good sex to make up for her shitty ex boyfriends. Plus, the man was tall and handsome, though he wasn’t my type, I could appreciate his physique.

The guys came back onto the ice as the third period started. Florida was being extra aggressive, trying to get the lead back since our guys currently were up by one with twenty minutes of regulation time left.

“Oh my god.” My hand flew up to my mouth as a member of the opposing team slammed Owen against the boards in whatsurelyhad to have been an illegal move. He went down hard, hitting the ice. His helmet smacked the surface, and I winced, knowing that couldn’t have been good for his neck.

Get back up,I willed him, unable to take my eyes off of him.

Finally, he did, heading to the bench and straight back to the locker room. He touched his eyebrow and then winced and—was that blood?The blood drained from my face.

“I—” I looked around wildly. “I have to go.” My chest grew tight, and I wasn’t sure I was breathing. “Fuck, Sophia, I—” I needed to see him. Needed to make sure he was okay. I let out a sound that was akin to a whimper.

Sophia grabbed my hand, squeezing. “Come with me. I can get you in there.”

“You can? Is that okay?” I bit my lip. “I don’t want to get Owen in trouble.”

She nodded. “I’m the Coach’s daughter.No onesays no to me. I’ve got the credentials.” She winked, and then tugged me towards the back area. It took a few minutes of winding through the tunnels until we stopped in front of the locker room door.

“This feels wrong,” I whispered.

My friend shook her head. “It’ll be okay. I promise. Don’t worry.”

I hoped she was right.

She softened her voice. “Hey. He’ll be okay,” she promised. “These hockey players—they’re made of tough stuff. I’ve seen them go down from worse and still walk it off and play the rest of the season. They’re probably just making sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”

I nodded. I knew that. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been around when he played hockey when we were kids. I’d seen his teammates get hurt and go out with injuries. But she didn’t know the reason I’d stopped skating. That I’d let an injury keep me off the ice for years. That I was panicking for myself as much as I was for him.

Because seeing him go down had reminded me of my accident, and my fear had overtaken me. The logical part of me knew it hadn’t been too bad, because he’d walked off the ice himself, but the other part couldn’t help but be scared. I couldn’t lose him. Not like this.

She knocked on the door before opening it, peeking inside, like she was making sure everyone was decent. Sophia said something to someone inside, and then was ushering me into the locker room. My eyes widened at the space. I’d seen the locker room in interviews, but never in person. It was a large, circular room with the Seals logo lit up on the ceiling, the whole thing practically in shades of blue and gray from the logo and jerseys.

I barely noticed any of it, though, zeroing in on the lone man sitting in the stall, a pack of ice pressed to his cheek asthe team doctor checked him out. He’d already stripped out of his pads, just wearing a long-sleeved black t-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts. There was a bandage over his eyebrow where he’d been bleeding, and he definitely looked worse for the wear.

“Oh my god,” I whispered, slapping a hand over my mouth as I moved towards him without thinking. He looked like he was in pain, and I hated it. I’d seen him take a lot of hits, but I was always grateful that he had never gotten seriously injured. Still, every game he’d ever left early from in his career was one where I’d been unable to breathe until I found out that he was okay.

Owen looked over at me, and his eyes instantly softened. The woman who had been checking on him gave him a nod, saying something else before she stepped out of the room.

“Come here, baby.” He opened up his arms, and I stepped between his legs. He rested his forehead against my middle, and I ran my fingers through his hair.

---