Hayes (A Carolina Cyclones Story)

32.

Hayes

The rest of the week following my injury passes with little excitement, for me, at least. The team splits the two games I miss and maintains a 2-1 series lead against New York. As for me, I sleep, eat, and lust after Maggie who still won't let me touch her. Even given that current situation, just being around Maggie in this capacity–basically playing house, has me thinking about her being around long term. I've never had those thoughts before but all the extra time I've had to think while I've been out has led me to imagining a future with her in it. Of course, it also involved me first holding up a Stanley cup.

To do that, I need to get back on the ice. And that's exactly what I intend to do as soon as the doctor clears me. Which I really fucking hope is what he's about to do.

I sit on the exam table in the athletic training room of the arena, nervously tapping my foot as I wait to hear the results and what they mean for me as far as when I can hit the ice. I'm hopeful I'll get the results I want but even being cleared from the concussion doesn't mean I'll play tonight. Coach has already told me that I'd need to practice at least once in a no-contact sweater to make sure I have my skates under me and knock off the rust caused by sitting out a week of practices and games. Any ice time is better than none at this point. The ice is my sanctuary, it always has been. The best place to vent my frustrations and to free myself from all the shit that's always cycling through my head. A week without that outlet has left me feeling a bit like a caged animal, add in the sexual frustration that my right hand can't quite seem to satisfy and yeah, I need a fucking win.

"Any news?" Wes asks, popping his head in on his way to morning skate. He's dressed in his full pads and practice sweater.

"Not yet. Waiting for Ian to get the results from the doctor now."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed for ya. Miss having you to my right man."

"Thanks man." I yell after him as he turns to head for the ice. Anxiety settles over me and Ian slides past him and into the training room. I take a deep breath and wait to hear my fate.

Maggie

When I'd first been hired by the Cyclones I'd been given a small cubicle to work at. It had worked fine while I was drafting the design proposals for the murals. More recently though as I moved into the actual artistic process of the work I'd been hired for, supplies had begun to pile up and the cubicle had become inadequate. The great arena staff had worked their magic however and found me an empty room to turn into a makeshift office. Albeit in the basement, it is functional in that there is plenty of space to store supplies and there had even been an old desk that I'd been able to clean up and turn the room into a functional office. What it lacks in natural lighting it makes up for in proximity to the locker room. A fact I especially appreciate since today is the day Hayes is meeting with the training staff to make plans for his continued concussion recovery.

The drive into the arena this morning had been tense to say the least. Usually, I find myself pretty chatty, feeling the pauses in conversation that Hayes leaves but today I had struggled to string two words together. Instead, one of my hands had gripped the wheel to the point of turning my knuckles white while the other lay in Hayes palm, his thumb gently stroking my skin. I know how much he wants to be out on the ice, doing whatever he can within his power to bring home the cup to his team, to this city. With how much I've come to care for him, I can't help but want him to have the things he most desires. I also can't help wanting one of those things, to be me.

All morning I watch the doorway, I've purposefully left it open in the hopes of knowing the results of his testing as soon as humanly possible, not wanting even a walk to open the door to stand in the way. I try to work, but it feels impossible. Every cough and low voice I hear from down the hall draws my eyes and by lunchtime I'm about ready to march down to the training room myself and demand answers for him...for me.