6– Gabrielle

The game was starting.

In less than an hour, the game would kick off.

The muffled roar of thousands of fans echoed through the vents. 

Kayden’s teammates had already hit the tunnel, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

An uneasy knot tightened in my chest.

I broke away from the management lounge and headed out to find him in the locker room.

When I pushed the door open, the silence inside caught me off guard. And to my surprise, Kayden was seated flat on the floor, his knees curled into his chest, his back pressed against the lockers as he stared blankly up at the harsh ceiling lights.

“I knew I’d find you here,” I said softly, stepping into the room. I walked over and lowered myself onto the floor beside him, letting out a sigh. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he answered curtly, his voice thick and he didn't look at me.

“You can’t say nothing, Kayden.” I leaned my head back against the locker, mimicking his posture. “Why are you hiding alone in the locker room when your teammates are already out there warming up for the game?”

“You’ve been with me for six months, Gabrielle. It’s not the first time I’ve been the last one out of the tunnel.” Finally, his eyes cut over to meet mine. “Why are you suddenly so concerned today?”

“I wasn’t your girlfriend then,” I answered simply, flashing him a soft, reassuring smile.

He flinched, his jaw tightening. “It’s not like it’s a real relationship now. You said so yourself,” he ground out, looking away. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be out there soon.”

I didn't offer any response. My eyes drifted down to his hands. His fingers were wrapped around a silver necklace, his thumb trembling as it repeatedly traced the contours of a small cross pendant.

I inhaled a long, slow breath. Slipping my hand across the space between us, I slid my fingers into his, interlacing them.

This is just part of the job, I told myself.

But it was a complete lie. When it came to the game, I genuinely cared about Kayden as an athlete. I respected his dedication, and I didn’t want anything sabotaging his focus before he stepped onto that ice.

“Are you nervous?” I asked, keeping my voice as gentle as possible.

He held my gaze for a long moment, his breathing ragged. Slowly, the tension in his fingers melted, and his grip on my hand tightened. “Is it okay if I am?”

“Of course it’s okay to be nervous,” I told him, trailing my eyes over his face. “You’re human, Kayden. After all the hype, you're still just a person.”

“But I’m supposed to have gotten used to this, right?” He scoffed like he couldn’t even believe himself, shaking his head. “I’ve been playing all my life and yet every time I’d feel this crippling sense of dread…”

“What do you dread?”

“That I’ll fail. That I’ll make a stupid mistake and cost my team the win. That I might disappoint the fans.”

“But you’re not playing for the fans, Kayden,” I whispered, turning my body toward him. “In one of your first interviews, you said that hockey was your way back to yourself. Why hold yourself to such an impossible standard? Why do you constantly pressure yourself to be flawless?”

Kayden didn’t answer. His head just kept shaking, his chest rising and falling as if there were a million thoughts trapped inside him and he didn’t have the words to let them out. 

His lips trembled like he was holding back a sob.

For a brief moment, I felt terrible. A pang of guilt hit my chest. 

I had been around this man for months, and I never once imagined he was fighting these kinds of demons before a game. I always assumed he came out late because he was arrogant, because he liked the dramatic effect and the extra attention of walking out last minute.

I didn’t even know what had prompted me to come look for him today. But seeing him shattered like this…

Just how many more misconceptions have I had about this man?

“Nervous is good, Kayden,” I murmured, using my thumb to stroke the back of his palm to ground him. “But you shouldn’t let it steal your confidence. You’re a brilliant athlete. You are majestic on the ice, and your team only reaches this level of success because you're a good leader.”

Kayden let out a breathy chuckle. “Are you saying that as my handler, or as my fake girlfriend?”

“I’m saying it as Gabrielle,” I told him firmly, looking right into his eyes. “I’m saying it as a person who loves watching you play.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upward. He pulled my arm forward, tucking my hand underneath his chin, pressing it firmly against his skin as if trying to absorb my warmth.

“Do you have a pre-game ritual?” I asked, desperately trying to ease the tension in the room.

Kayden nodded, keeping his eyes shut as he nuzzled my hand closer against his neck.

“Well? What is it?”

“I either fuck, or I pray to my mother.” His answer was plain and simple, his voice a deadpan. He opened his eyes, a slow smile finally breaking across his face when he saw me freezing up, my mouth parted in shock. “Don’t worry, I didn’t fuck anyone last night.”

“I-I’m not worried about that,” I stammered, my cheeks burning.

“The person I actually wanted turned me down,” he continued, ignoring my flustered stuttering. “But fortunately for me, she’s my girlfriend now.”

“Kayden…”

“If I play well out there today,” he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “I guess holding my girlfriend’s hand before a game is going to be added to the list of my pre-game rituals.”

“Stop joking around,” I said, using my free hand to slap his shoulder.

“Who says I’m joking?” He raised a brow, his gaze dropping to our intertwined fingers. “You have the warmest hands, Gabrielle. Don't let go yet.”

“I won’t,” I assured him, tightening my grip around his hand.

“Are you sure this isn’t a dream?” he murmured, his voice sounding small. “This has to be a fragment of my imagination.”

“Don’t joke around,” I whispered, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

He fell silent, but the way Kayden looked at me was disarming. There was a raw intensity in his gaze that made my heart thump erratically against my ribs.

“My mother should have been here tonight,” he whispered. A single tear slipped from his eye, tracking down his cheek before pelting onto my arm. “Her hand... it would have been just as warm as yours.”

My heart shattered for him. The wave of empathy was so overwhelming that the words died in my throat. I could only stare at him.

“Do you think she would have been proud of me?” he asked, looking at me like a boy searching for solace.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, forcing a smile. “Look at everything you’ve done for yourself, Kayden. She would be a fool not to be proud of you.”

He let out a chuckle. “You really have a sharp tongue.”

“I thought you liked that about me,” I teased.

“I do.” He nodded, his eyes dropping to my lips before lifting back to mine. “I love that about you the most.”

A loud buzzer suddenly echoed, signaling the final ten-minute warning before puck drop.

“We should go, Kayden,” I murmured, though neither of us moved.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was low, stripped of the arrogance and entitlement it had carried when he made that crude demand yesterday morning.

It’s for the game, I told myself frantically, my mind grasping for any excuse to shield my pride. I’m only doing this to ground him for the game.

I inhaled a shaky breath and gave him a small nod.

“Please use your words, Gabrielle,” he breathed, his gaze burning into mine.

He wanted me to say it out loud, but he had already leaned in so close that the heat of his mouth was brushing against my skin. He was close enough that if I spoke, my lips would inevitably graze his.

“Yes, Kayden,” I murmured against his mouth. “You can kiss me.”

His mouth covered mine before the air even absorbed my words.