Darkroom: A Moo U Hockey Romance Kate Willoughby (read full novel .TXT) 📖

A lot of guys I know would just grin and bear it, cross their fingers and hope it went away.”

I didn’t tell him that’s exactly what I’d been doing before Indi and AJ pushed me to do something about it.

“But honestly, that’s gotta change. I mean, I respect that you want to keep this quiet and all your reasons for that are solid. But as a league, we need to make it safer for guys to get the help they need and not feel like they have to suffer in silence.” He looked at the half a piece of pizza left in his hand, made a face, then put it down. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach,” he said.

“It’s good pizza,” I said, choosing not to comment on the other stuff he said about making the NHL a safe place.

I agreed but didn’t think it would ever happen. Hockey players were bred to be tough, to suck it up, so much so that we’d gained a reputation for enduring. I had never played for the Stanley Cup, but from the way my family members talked, nothing short of death could stop an NHL player from a playoff game. I’d heard stories of guys playing through broken ankles, broken wrists, mild concussions, and slipped discs. Men who couldn’t commit to the sport with that kind of dedication…well, let’s just say word got around.

“All right, let me do some actual mentoring. Like your girlfriend, Janie is a very smart woman. She, too, recognized that I had a problem and was unlikely to do anything about it unless she intervened. So she came up with a routine that works for me every time.”

He then described five things he did before every game, things that helped calm the chaotic feelings of self-doubt and fear of failure that never failed to surface.

“I know a lot of this sounds like New Age mumbo jumbo,” Mac said, “and that’s what I thought it was at first too, but I’m telling you, it works. And I’ve also come to realize on my own that it can help to flip your mindset. You probably go into the game thinking about what you’re going to do, down to the last detail, as if it’s all up to you. Now, I don’t know your skill level, but despite your imposter feelings, they don’t draft guys by mistake, man. They just don’t. But even if you’re Connor McDavid’s clone, the games won’t be won or lost by just you alone. You play on a team. So when you’re on that fifth item—the pep talk—mix it up a little. Visualize what you’re going to do as an individual, of course, but don’t forget to include ways you and your teammates are going to dominate as a unit. That’s just as important as your individual contribution. Oh, before I forget, I printed it all out for you.”

By the time we said goodbye, I couldn’t believe how good I felt. Mac gave me so much valuable information. I had a plan of action. I had a mentor, someone who had walked through the fire and gotten through, unscathed.

I had hope.

But that hope wasn’t as bright as it might have been because I was worried about Indi. I’d texted her several times with no response.

Hudson: I hope you’re feeling better. Call me when you can. I have a lot to tell you.

21

Indi

I’d had no plans for the day except to study hard for my EDT exam. Ever since I’d started seeing Hudson, the study habits I’d honed my whole life had fallen by the wayside. I’d gotten behind with both my homework and my MCAT prep and I had no one to blame but myself.

I didn’t bother putting my face on because that way I would stay in my room until I’d caught up. I didn’t even need to go out for food because I took the last few dumplings out of the freezer and by the time I was hungry and ready for a break, they’d be defrosted enough to cook.

When the knock on the door came, I’d thought it was Ruby. She was always forgetting her keys. It happened often enough that we talked about keeping an extra outside the door, but there wasn’t any place to safely hide one.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Ruby.

I had always prided myself on remaining calm in emergency situations. Once when I was little, I’d slept over at a friend’s house and we’d gotten up before everyone else, determined to surprise everyone with breakfast the next morning. We were cooking bacon when the pan caught fire. My friend freaked out and rushed to fill a glass with water, but I stopped her. As the daughter of a restauranteur, I knew you extinguished grease fires by either cutting off its oxygen or dousing it with baking soda. The fire went out soon after we slapped the lid on the pan.

But opening the door and seeing Hudson there induced a panic in me that no fire ever would.

My heart went into overdrive as I slammed the door. He was talking to me, but I couldn’t focus on what he was saying. All I could hear was the deafening tympanic drumbeat of my pounding heart.

Had he seen my birthmark?

Of course he had. I had my hair up in a ponytail and it was broad daylight.

He was probably standing there, a look of horror on his face, and maybe thinking he’d knocked on the wrong door or entered some alternate reality where an alien had abducted me and left a monster in my place.

I could only blame myself. I should have told him about my birthmark ages ago. After he tried to touch my face and I’d freaked out would have been the perfect time to explain. With a little warning, he might have been okay with how I look without my makeup on. But now…now he knew I’d been lying to him all this time, pretending to be something I’m