[WAITLISTED] you were never mine // matthew boldy

11

After the morning skate, I made my way down to the back entrance of the Xcel Energy Center to meet Matt in the parking lot.

He was leaning against his black Toyota Camry, nose buried into his phone. He looked like he had just got done with an intense workout; sweat dripping down the sides of his face, hair comfortably slicked back, and in just a Minnesota Wild training sweatshirt and Nike joggers.

"Matthew?" I asked quietly, and Matt raised his head from his phone at the calling of his name.

His eyes flared in dismay yet pleasure as our eyes met. I stood about two yards away from him, my small backpack strap resting on my left shoulder, and forced myself to smile.

He immediately smiled and ran up to me and wrapped his arms tightly around me. "I'm so, so, sorry that I hurt you and this relationship. I will never do such a thing again, and I hope that letter meant something to you as it came out of my own heart," he said rapidly, giving me less time to process what he just spat at me.

I held Matt in my arms and processed what he said. I missed him. I really did.

The amount of time that I wasn't with Matt after I broke up with him was one of the lowest points in my life. I never realized how much Matt meant to me and my happiness, and when Matt (or Dean) sent the letter to me, I finally was able to accept the fact that I missed him.

"I thought she broke up with you!" exclaimed someone from behind me.

I let go of Matt to see who was talking to him.

My eyes widened as I quietly gasped.

"She did, but we're trying to get things figured out," Matt responded to Kirill's comment. He also had a girl with him, and she looked absolutely gorgeous.

Kirill chuckled. "That's awesome. Sorry about everything, Peyton. You and Matt are something special together," he said before ushering his girl over to his silver SUV type of vehicle.

Matt groaned as he slicked his sweaty hair back after I turned around to face him. "Sorry about that. How about I take you to my place for a bit? I know you haven't been there before, and we have some time to kill before I have to be back here for the game," he proposed, putting his hand on my free shoulder.

I frowned as I looked down at my high-top white Converse, then back into Matt's glowing, sparkling, blue-gray eyes.

I put my hand around Matt's wrist and took his hand off of my shoulder. He looked at me in confusion and guilt, then I smiled to give him assurance.

"I thought you were homeless," I joked. "Considering you'd always crash at my place,"

He rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Your jokes suck, I hope you know that," he spat back.

I giggled. "I know, but you love them," I winked, then we piled into his car and we were eventually off to his apartment in Saint Paul.

—

Matt opened the door to his apartment and let me in, holding the door open for me.

His apartment was everything I'd expect with a twenty-year-old hockey player: energy drink cans everywhere, pucks everywhere, clothes littered on the floor and furniture, it really looked like my mom's apartment after my mom and dad divorced, minus the hockey aspects.

"Sorry that it's a little messy. Anger and discontentment can really get to your feelings," he muttered as he closed the door and set his keys on the counter.

I frowned at the thought and saying of the word discontentment. His performances since the Carolina game fell, reflecting his thoughts of discontentment on hockey. All because of me.