Notbroken

“Hi,” He spoke softly as He pulled me behind a dark corner in a hidden part of Wells Fargo Center.

“Hi,” I whispered back. The minute we found out we were playing each other our phones were going off all the time because of each other.

He rested one hand on my hip and the other ruffled with the hem of my Sabres long sleeve warm-up shirt. I looked down from his eyes, He wore his Flyers t-shirt, jock shorts and a hat backwards that pushed his curls out of his face.

My knees buckled as I realized what I was doing, this wasn’t going to happen again. He could sense my fear of being caught the minute I looked back in his eyes, “They won’t find us here, I wouldn’t put you at danger.”

I smiled back up and leaned my back against a support pole behind me, in two hours we’d be bitter enemies. “You know we won’t like each other after this?”

“Says who? Shauna I won’t hate you, it’d be the opposite.”

“Wrong! I don’t hate anyone.” I let out a small laugh and he moved closer. He leaned forward and let his hands hit the beam, his face inches from mine. Goofy grins spread across both our faces, His missing teeth looking somewhat cute. Fuck, no, not again.

“I should get back to Pat, I have yet to have my pasta.” I ducked beneath his arms and ran away, looking back to see him smiling and shaking his head at me.

I couldn’t stop blushing at the thought of Claude being that close to me. He was a damn good looking man but I knew that was all it could be.

Coach’s pep talk was small, opening introductions went by quick, and as soon as I knew it we were back in our locker room for the first intermission, I replayed it all in my head. The score was 0-0 and that’s exactly how the game felt. Each 5 minutes we would trade control of the game, there were hits, shots and chirps everywhere.

I ignored Claude the best I could but my line, Vanek, Ennis and I, lined up against his. The first face-off of the game was the worst, I skated around in a circle, back in our zone, waiting for the Flyers to place out the line. He watched me nervously skate up, give looks to my wings and hunch down into my face-off stance.

“Let the games begin,” He whispered as he got into his stance and tapped the toe of my stick with his. The ref dropped the puck and I opened my eyes to see Pommers alerting me coach was beginning his talk.

“Well team there’s not much to say, we have to earn it. Hard in every corner, every second, we gotta fucking go hard. Shut it down on D first and we’ll work it out from there. Let’s go, Let’s fucking get it.”

The second period was exactly like the first, flip flop of possession every 5 minutes. Ryan stood on his head, blocking everything and even slapping quite a few Flyers with his stick in the back of their legs. There was no question they were going to hate us by the end of the series.

As we skated off for the 2nd intermission Claude tapped the back of my heel but I ignored it. I thought I had made it clear to him that I didn’t want media knowing that we even talked to each other, especially during this series.

The locker room was buzzing again, we walked in and would sit for a few minutes then have to get up and shake off the rowdy energy. Coach realized immediately after walking in no words could get us more pumped up so he let us be for the last two laps the zamboni had to do.

“Lets fucking gooooooooooo!” Derek yelled as we charged out of the locker room and back onto the ice to the booeing orange crowd.

The 3rd period we came out flying. We were owning on every side of the ice for the first 4 minutes and that’s when my pre-game meal partner came up huge.

It was a hard-working game winning goal, Gerbe battled on the side way and flung the puck over to the other side D, Goose. Goose looked up and took a ripper at the net, luckily Kaleta was there for the rebound and hit it in.

I jumped out of my seat on the bench while everyone else did the same and screamed. The crowd booed and I caught, after Kaleta came throw and gave us fist bumps, Claude looking over at me. I smiled to myself and hopped over the bench to being my shift.

The rest of the game was full of ups and downs but Miller stayed tough through and through. We kept our celebration short on and off the ice, it was just game 1. There was an underlying feeling I could feel, as I went to the shower before all the guys, that this wasn’t that big of a win.

After I showered and changed before the boys made their trek in, I gave them all hugs and bid the adeu as I headed for the exit of the arena. Claude however found me again, this time right before the exit, and pulled me into a hidden area.

“Good game?” He asked as he gently pushed my back up against one of the concrete walls. His hands gingerly grabbed onto my hips as his eyes looked deep into mine.

“Extremely good game,” I whispered into his ear as I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into him. His hair, still dripping wet from his shower, smelled like Irish Spring and almost made me melt right there as my fingers ran through it.

He nodded and we began whispering about the game, he kept threatening that they’d come back, and I argued they wouldn’t until it went silent for a second. His lips landed on my collar bone as I closed my eyes and sighed.

“Claude, no…” I said as straight as I could. He ignored my request and I felt his hands ride up to below my boob as his mouth moved over the side of my neck.

I let him in for a few seconds before I snapped back and pushed away. His eyes were emotionless and his hands fell to his sides. He looked like a puppy that had just been kicked.

“I’m sorry Claude but I can’t, I just can’t.” I brushed passed him, as I did so I grabbed his hand and squeezed it before I disappeared from his view and onto my bus.

So many emotions spun through my head. Not just about what had happened with Claude but about the game, it was first playoff game ever on this kind of stage and we had won. I let my eyes shut, as the rest of the team walked onto the bus, and reviewed the past 3 hours in my head.

The guys all gave me pats on the head as they walked by until Pat stopped, and practically dove over me to get to his seat on the window.

Pat and I spent the 20 minute drive back to our hotel texting family and friends, while the rest of the bus roamed aimlessly and talked with each other. No one really talked of the game, we knew we had to move onto the next game, just like the Flyers were.

I collapsed onto my hotel bed after we arrived, set my alarm and passed out.