Mitchell's Power Play

Games

MITCHELL

I was sitting on the bench, slowly unlacing my skates, feeling sore everywhere but especially in my shoulder and down my back. It had been yet another tough game and my body felt it. The coach had just finished his speech, which for once had been mostly positive, and most of the guys were undressing to showers. Nash stood next to me. He'd already gotten his skates off and was reaching for his jersey when his eyes landed on mine and he stopped.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

This seemed to be a new thing. He'd asked me the same thing after every game we'd had lately.

"It was a tough game and you took some hits again. I'm just checking."

What he said could be true, but the way his eyes were studying me made me think that he suspected that something else was going on. We hadn't really talked in a while, about serious stuff that is. We usually talked every day, about normal bullshit, or hockey. Or lately, topics related to the pregnancy. I kind of liked it that way because I wasn't ready to talk about Sammy and the emotions she was stirring up inside of me. Nash knew nothing about that, and while I had a feeling he knew something was up, he'd let it go so far. He appeared to be content with my reassurances that everything's okay, but I knew that sooner or later he wouldn't let it slide anymore. I was hoping for later.

"My shoulder is acting up some." I shrugged like it was no big deal. "Nothing new."

He nodded like he believed me but I knew better. It wouldn't be long before I had to tell him the truth. That I was falling for his wife's best friend and I wasn't sure if she felt the same?

"Are you going home?"

I stopped with my hands on my skate and looked up to meet his eyes, wondering if I had missed something. "Why? Is anything going on?"

"Not that I know of." He shrugged his now bare shoulders and continued to undress and I couldn't help but feel that this was a bit of strange conversation. Like we were both skirting around the actual subject, whatever that was.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, thinking he may need to talk to me about something that was bothering him, instead of him trying to grill me about anything that could potentially be wrong. 

"Just heading home. Kennedy and Sammy left already."

Shit. I had looked forward to seeing her. Even if it was just for a few short minutes.

"Okay. Did they leave together?"

I got to my bare feet after pushing the skates to the side and reached for the bottom of my jersey. Nash was already down to his boxers looking for a towel.

"I'm sure they walked out together, but Sammy was going back to her apartment. You know with her work schedule and everything..."

I nodded knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm pretty sure they're both sleeping already too."

His comment made me grin. Nash spent a lot of time worrying about Kennedy and an equal amount complaining about how she was always sleeping and that he missed just hanging out with her.

"At least you know where she is and that she is taking it easy."

"True," he chuckled. 

I realized I really didn't feel like going back home to an empty apartment. It wasn't like it used to be when I loved the fact that I had my own place and my own routine. The quietness, the sanctuary. Something that I owned, that was just mine, cleaned and organized, without a need to share with my brother or listen to my dad yelling from the living room. Lately, that didn't seem to be enough. I was becoming restless. Frustrated even, at being alone, but at the same time, I craved it. It was weird.