She fell silent for a few moments, quiet enough for so long that I thought I might be able to hear her heartbeat through the phone. That might only be one of her cats purring, though. It was really hard to tell.
Then, “Good night, Keith.”
“Good night.”
We hung up, and I was still waiting to hear those three little words from her mouth.
BERGY PULLED ME, Colesy, and the rest of the Storm’s defensemen aside after morning skate on Tuesday before our game against the Ducks. “Nicky’s back in tonight,” he said, his arms crossed over his chest. “The doctors have cleared him, and he’s been looking really good in practices, so he’s getting the start. We’re going to send Bobby back to Seattle, which I’m sure they’ll be glad about.”
The Seattle Storm was our AHL affiliate team. Without Bobby, they’d really been struggling in goal. That was one area that the Storm organization apparently didn’t have enough depth. I knew Jim Sutter, our general manager, had been trying to work out some sort of trade for another goaltender of decent skill to plug in over there, but as of yet nothing had panned out.
Bergy looked each of us in the eye, glaring through us with the same kind of intensity he used to bring to the game in his playing days. “It’s been a while since he’s seen any game action, though. He’s going to be rusty as a fucking nail, and that means he’s going to be relying on the six of you more than ever. So everything we’ve been working on, all the communication that I’ve been preaching, that all comes into play tonight more than ever before. You’d fucking better be talking to each other out there, and talking to Nicky. And if you don’t, you’re going to find your asses glued to the bench. Am I clear?”
A chorus of “Yeah,” and “Got it,” met his pronouncement.
Apparently we’d been doing what he wanted lately because Bergy hadn’t changed up the defensive pairings in weeks—not since he’d put me and Colesy together. Each of the partnerships had definitely had some struggles at first, but things were really starting to click. Well, as long as you ignored that last game against the Kings. I was pretty sure we would all like to put that one as far in the past as possible and forget that it had ever happened.
“Burnzie, you and Colesy are going to be stuck like glue to the Getzlaf line all night. Every time they go out, you go out, too. Pay particular attention to Perry. That guy has Nicky’s number and always has. I don’t want him getting in Nicky’s head tonight, so I want you to deal with him.”
I couldn’t stop the grin from stealing over me. There was nothing I liked better than playing against a guy like Corey Perry. He talked trash all night long, but he could back it up, and he always played right on the edge of what was legal. Sometimes he crossed over that line, but he was always right there, pushing until you broke.
There wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to break.
“I can handle that,” I said, nodding at Colesy. Perry was definitely my responsibility for the night. Dealing with that guy would require no small amount of the snarl I could bring to the table. It was just the thing I needed since I couldn’t get Brie off my mind.
“Glad you’re looking forward to it,” Colesy said when we were heading back to the locker room to clean up. “That guy drives me insane.”
“Me too. Good thing for us that makes me a better player when someone’s driving me insane.”
Sure enough, Perry seemed to have an extra-pesky streak to his game tonight, always trying to get in tight on Nicky. He kept me on my toes, but no matter how hard he tried, he never quite got clear of me.
Not until midway through the third period of a scoreless game, at least.
Up until that point, the D had done a great job of keeping all of the Ducks forwards out of the middle. We let them have room from the outside, trusting that Nicky could see those shots and stop them. And he’d done a great job of it so far all night.
But then Perry gave me a dipsy doodle kind of move and got me all twisted around. He broke into the zone, heading straight for the slot. He didn’t have the puck, but that didn’t matter. They were onside, and Getzlaf had the puck. He sent it straight toward the tape of Perry’s stick.
I made a diving play with my own stick, hoping to either knock the puck away or lift Perry’s stick. Both would have been all right.
What I accomplished was getting the blade of my stick between Perry’s feet. I didn’t touch his skates, but you couldn’t tell from the flop he took to the ice, selling it to the refs like he tended to do. Like I said before, he was always one to skirt the line of legality. He’d take a fall if he thought he could draw a call.
The refs bit. I didn’t hear the whistle, but I saw the zebra with his arm in the air and the tripping signal…and the point toward center ice. I wasn’t getting a two-minute minor; he’d called me for a penalty shot.
“That was a fucking dive,” I shouted at the ref, getting right up in his face before I could think better of it.
“Yours was, Burnzie, but you tripped him.”
“Perry pulls this shit all the fucking time.”
“Maybe, but your stick was in his skates.” He tried to skate past me toward center ice, but I didn’t make it easy on him.
“I didn’t touch his skates. Seriously, a fucking penalty shot?”
“Get your ass to your bench before I call you for unsportsmanlike conduct on top of it,” the ref warned.
I was about to launch a few more choice words in his direction when Colesy grabbed me by the back of the jersey and dragged me away.
“Lay off him, Burnzie. Nicky’s been on so far tonight. Let’s trust him to get you out of this and then worry about how we’re gonna beat these guys.”
I nodded and took my spot on the bench, still stewing. Perry circled around, waiting for the refs to signal that he could go. I turned my attention to Nicky, though, trying to see his eyes through the cage of his mask. When he was really dialed in and on his game, his eyes were almost solid black, pure focus. Because of the angle, I couldn’t tell what they were doing, though.
The ref gave the signal and Perry took off wide, but with a full head of steam. He skated in fast, deked once, and then went top shelf, glove side. Nicky’s glove shot up just in the nick of time. He caught the puck and held it straight up in the air, almost taunting Perry and the Ducks’ fans as he tossed it toward the ref.
“Attaboy,” Bergy shouted. He moved along behind the bench, slapping shoulders and helmets. “Let’s get back out there and give our goaltender some fucking help, huh?” He sent out the top forward line along with Jens and Ny for the next shift. Then he moved up right behind me and bent down over my shoulder. “I saw your stick. It didn’t touch that fucker’s skates. But that doesn’t matter. You blow up at a ref like that again, and you’ll be spending a lot more time with your ass planted on this pine bench than you want. You’re supposed to be one of the guys leading this team, not digging us a bigger hole.”
I nodded to let him know I got his message, loud and clear. Then I turned my attention back to the ice. We had a fucking game to win.
I’D NEVER EXPERIENCED a longer four days in my life. The reason it seemed longer than it should have, or at least one of the reasons, was because I was desperate to tell Keith something after he’d told me he loved me, but I had no idea what that ought to be.
The one thing I did know was that no matter what it was I eventually settled on telling him, I couldn’t do it over the phone. Some things really need to be said in person, and I love you was at the top of the list. I don’t know if I love you yet was right up there, too.
I’d been so stunned when he’d said it on his way out the door. He’d left as soon as the words had slipped past his lips, leaving me gaping like a fish out of water. But then I’d spent a little time thinking about it. Okay, I’d spent a lot of time thinking about it. Any time that wasn’t spent working with Devin was tied up in trying to sort out how I felt about Keith.
I hadn’t merely thought about it. I’d talked to
Devin about it when we took breaks, sitting cross-legged on the floor while we chugged water and tried to get our wind back after a long session. I’d talked to Tanya about it over lunches around her desk, trying to get her to help me see past the Sex on a Stick aspect to my relationship with Keith. Those conversations had left me leaning toward it being love, but I still felt unsure.
But then I’d had dinner with Shane.
And now I knew. I absolutely, unequivocally knew. I loved Keith.
I loved the way I felt when I was with him. I loved the way he looked at me as though there was no other woman on the face of the planet he would rather be with or look at. I loved the way he was so diligent in making sure I knew I was perfect exactly as I was. I loved that he was finally able to talk about the parts of his life that he’d kept hidden away for so long and that I’d had something to do with that change in him. I loved that he cared so much about his brothers—both of them—that he would take Cole on as his own special cause in an effort to change his karma. But really, more than anything, I loved who I was when I was with him.
I was bolder. More daring. I believed in myself more when I was with him because he believed in me so much. It was impossible to think all the things Val had said to and about me could be true when Keith was around me, helping me to see the truth.
So now, I was desperate to see him again.
The team flew home after their game in Anaheim, but Keith texted me before they left, saying he would come to my rehearsal and then take me to the Light the Lamp event once it was finished. It was going to be about three a.m. by the time the team plane landed, and he didn’t want to screw with my sleep schedule when my performance was only a couple of days away.
My heart sank that I would have to wait another twelve hours or so to see him, but there wasn’t really any better option as far as I could see it. Unless I went to stay at his house, of course. But that seemed insanely presumptuous, so I’d decided I’d better not. Instead, I waited as patiently as I could for our opportunity to see each other.
New Year’s Eve brought with it the final dress rehearsal with all the dancers. We were even doing our rehearsal in the venue, Keller Auditorium, despite the fact that it had to be costing Devin an arm and a leg to rent it an extra day. I was far more used to doing these final run-throughs in a studio somewhere that would only cost a fraction of the Keller’s fee.
I had to be there by nine, and I had a feeling Keith would still be in bed at that hour if he didn’t have to go in for practice or something, so I decided to take the bus over to the auditorium and send him a message to let him know where he could find me when he had time.
When I walked in, I realized for the first time how enormous this production was going to be. Keller Auditorium was massive and glorious, and seriously imposing. The show was going to be equally massive, too, based on the number of dancers streaming in and getting into costume. Devin stood at the front of the stage, directing traffic, giving directions to the sound and lighting people, and generally staying calm and collected.
The more I saw, though, the more pressure I felt. I’d been expecting a few hundred seats being filled. This place would house thousands. All the nerves that I’d told Keith about came rushing back, and I worried that I might be sick. Still, I forced my feet to move, and eventually I made it up to the front to find out where Devin wanted me.
He winked when he saw me. “Your dressing room is marked. Stacey can help you find it whenever you’re ready.” He indicated a blonde next to him, and she smiled at me. “After that, I need you to sit in front with me until it’s our turn, so you can help me decide what changes we might need to make. You’re my second set of eyes today.”
I didn’t feel as though I could adequately be my own set of eyes, given the jumping jacks taking over my stomach, but I nodded and let Stacey lead me to the dressing room. Only when we got there, I stopped short. It was a private room with my name on it. I’d been expecting my name to be listed alongside a number of other dancers, not all by itself. The only other private dressing room I saw was Devin’s. Everyone else was sharing, most of them five or six dancers to a room, everyone bumping into each other.
“He can’t be serious,” I muttered.
“Oh, he is,” Stacey said. “This is all yours. We’ve got someone coming in to do your hair and makeup. She should be here in about fifteen minutes. Let me know if you need anything, Brie. I’ll be either back in this hall or out front with Devin.” She left me to pick my jaw up off the floor on my own, winking as she headed out the door.
I tried to get over it, but it felt as though Devin was trying to make me out as some big star or something. I wasn’t a star. I was simply the ballroom dancer he’d wrangled into working with him on this show.
For a moment, I wished that Keith was here with me. He would be able to calm me down, help me to accept whatever it was that Devin was throwing at me. But he wasn’t, and I didn’t know when he’d show up, and so I had to figure it out on my own.
I got dressed and waited for hair and makeup, all the while checking my phone to see if I had any messages from Keith. Nothing. The woman came in and glammed me up in a way to match my dress, and still nothing. I sighed, putting my phone back in my bag and leaving it in the dressing room. Devin said he was counting on me to be his second set of eyes, so I figured I’d better get out there. I didn’t know what help I could be for him, but I definitely wouldn’t be any help at all if I spent the whole day hiding in my dressing room and incessantly checking my cell.
DEVIN AND I took up our opening position near the center of the stage, a bright spotlight bearing down on us and blinding me. That didn’t keep me from being nervous, though. I knew how many dancers and other crew members were out there in the crowd, watching. Staring. At me, in this getup.
As much as I hated it, I was shaking like crazy, and I doubted anything would make the shaking stop other than Keith somehow walking up and helping to soothe my nerves. But he hadn’t shown up yet, and I’d expected him hours ago, and I hadn’t been near my cell phone because I’d been busy helping Devin all day. I was going crazy not seeing him.
Devin chucked me under the chin and kept his hand there until I met his eyes. “You’re beautiful, Brie. Stop worrying. You don’t have any reason to be embarrassed. You look amazing. I would never ask you to wear something or do something that wouldn’t show you off to your advantage.”
I gave him a curt nod. That was the best I could do at the moment because I was all choked up. The truth was, I believed he meant it. The same way I believed Keith found me sexy. I’d known for a long time that what I saw when I looked in the mirror didn’t line up with what most of the world saw when they looked at me, but now what I saw in the mirror was gradually starting to change. It was a slow process, though—not something that could happen overnight.
There were no mirrors here on the stage, but I’d seen myself in my dressing room before I’d come out. I’d seen a curvy woman in a gorgeous dress getting ready to dance. I hadn’t necessarily recognized her as being me, though.
“Eyes on me,” Devin said, and I set my jaw and shot my gaze back up to meet his. The music started. He took his first step, his hands pressing against mine in the gentlest nudge—my indication as to how and where to move—and then the dance took over. I no longer saw the lights, the people behind them in the seats, the massive auditorium in front of us. All I could see was Devin, and all I could feel was the music, the pulse of it, the drive.
It had always been easy to forget everything else when I was dancing. The music, the movement, the flow of limbs and stretching of muscles all combined to take me into another time and place, outside of myself. It wasn’t my current body I wore when I danced, but my former body—the version that hadn’t been up and down and all around, the version that never worried about how it looked. For the three and a half minutes of our routine, I could be the woman I used to believe myself to be. For that moment in time, I lost all inhibition, all self-consciousnes
s, all worry about what someone might think when they saw me. I just…danced.
When the music came to an end and Devin caught me in the final wild leap of the routine, only then did I remember all the reasons I ought to be worried about my appearance. That all fell away when the other dancers erupted into applause around us, and Devin grinned down at me.
I took a few breaths and made my way down the steps to sit in the front row again so Devin could go over some final notes with everyone. When I got away from the spotlight, I saw Shane in the crowd. Not Keith.
My heart sank, but I smiled and waved at him anyway. He nodded in acknowledgment and I took my seat, trying to focus on everything that Devin was saying, but all the while my wheels were spinning. Why was Shane here and not his brother? Had something happened to Keith? Shane didn’t look upset, but I didn’t know him well enough to know if he could hide his emotions well or not.
Ten minutes passed before Devin finally finished running through his list of notes. As soon as he was done, I darted out of my seat and raced up the aisle to get to Shane, thoroughly impatient to find out what was going on.
“Everything’s fine,” he said before I could demand he tell me what was going on. “I can see the panic all over your face, so try to breathe.”
“I’m breathing. Where’s Keith?”
“You know about Nicky? The Storm’s goaltender?”
The one who had been out of the lineup lately, probably because of his addictions. Yeah, I knew about him. He’d played in the game last night—I’d been watching, more often than not—but that didn’t mean he was all right. “Has he overdosed or something?”
“No. Nothing like that. But Keith’s with him, and he said he can’t leave right now.”
He couldn’t leave. Why couldn’t he leave? My heart plummeted, my mind racing through a thousand possibilities. None of them made sense. I stood there gawking until Shane took pity on me.
In the Zone (Portland Storm 5) Page 26