Page 139 of Keeping Score

I was the funny guy. The laid-back guy. The comic relief guy. And I loved being that guy. But damn, if it didn’t get exhausting after a while.

But after so long of playing that role, it was daunting almost, to let the act drop. To admit to everyone, Hey, I get pissed off too. I want to lose my shit sometimes, too, just like the rest of you. I’m not invincible.

Though if I were being honest, there was only one person in the world who made me feel like I was.

And she was gone.

I stormed out of the locker room in a rush, not caring that I hadn’t showered. Not caring that I’d freaked out half the team by the newly emerged dark side of my personality. Not caring that the Garden was still swamped with fans lurking around who would probably be less than thrilled to encounter me in the state I was in.

All I wanted was to get the hell out of here.

I exited through the players-only hallway leading to our parking garage. I knew there going to be fans behind the barricades hoping to get a photo or an autograph, and usually, I was the guy to do that.

But tonight? I guess I’d be the asshole in some kid’s memory because I fully planned on walking straight to my car, baseball cap pulled low, eyes directed down so I didn’t have to see the disappointment in anyone’s face when I passed them by.

But sometimes, life throws a wrench in your plans.

Or more specifically, Maggie Brynn did. At least in mine. Because of all the people calling out my last name, voices mixing together until they were indecipherable, I could pick hers out in a heartbeat.

“Brody,” she called, arguably softer than any other voice in the parking lot, but because it was her voice, it might as well have been the only thing I heard.

“Maggie.” I said, head snapping up to see if my delusional ass had really conjured up some fantasy of her.

But low and behold, there she stood in dim light of the parking garage, looking so slight next to the grown men beside her that it made my heart clench.

With my eyes locked on hers, I took a step in her direction, my body knowing instinctively that if Maggie was near, I had to get to her.

The people around her erupted, shoving and calling out my name as if I were coming to see them personally. In the chaos, Maggie got shuffled toward the back, much daintier than the drunken men who were fighting to get in front of each other.

“Hey,” I called out, pulse spiking as I watched Maggie get shoved to the rear. “Everyone back off.”

But my approach only made the crowd get rowdier, amping up with each step I took in their direction.

I dropped my duffel bag, hopping the barrier to get to Maggie who nearly took an elbow to the face in the process. Hands reached out to me, shoving paper in my face, or phones to take pictures. It was chaos, especially because I’d planted myself in the midst of it. But I didn’t have any other option.

“Everybody calm the fuck down,” I roared, “before you crush my girlfriend!”

I pushed through the crowd of people, finding her pushed back in the middle, fierce look on her face as she shoved back against the people who clearly didn’t have any fucking common sense as they mindlessly shoved any and every one in their path.

Jesus, I thought. All this for a picture with me?

Despite being in the center of a crowd of rowdy hockey fans, she wasn’t scared—though my heart was still threatening to give out—she was pissed as hell.

That’s my girl, I thought. A fighter till the end.

“I said, back the hell up.” I called, shoving a few out of the way myself until I got to her.

“Maggie,” I breathed, stepping in close until my body practically shielded her from the chaos around us. I reached out to grip her waist, steadying her on her feet. “Are you okay?”

She looked up at me in a daze, as if she couldn’t believe I was there in front of her.

I know the feeling, baby.

Without thinking, I cupped her face in my hands, giving her the once over for any damage. Finding none, I breathed out a sigh of relief, trying to force my heart to return to its normal rhythm.

“Brody,” she said my name again and I closed my eyes to savor the sound.

“You know,” I brushed my thumb against her cheek, “there’s easier ways of getting my attention besides getting crushed by hockey fans.”