Page 10 of Puck Me Back to Life

That explains a lot. I study him for a moment.

The dark circles beneath his eyes bruise into his tanned skin. The way his shoulders seem permanently tense. The slight hollowness in his face. The guy looks exhausted.

Neither of us says anything for a few moments. The silence isn't uncomfortable.

Hayes just isn't much of a talker. He moves out of the showers into the main locker room. I follow behind like a lost duckling.

He pulls on his underwear underneath the towel so I can't see anything. My mouth quirks at the action.

Most guys aren't bothered by nudity, especially in a locker room. But from what I've gathered about Hayes is that he's always been a little shy.

It's kind of endearing. Especially since he's not shy about giving me an eyeful every day.

I sit on the bench in front of my stall, watching as he throws his towel into the laundry basket. He misses.

He clicks his tongue in annoyance as he strides to go pick it up and put it in its proper place.

I've always thought Hayes looks different than most hockey players. Most NHL forwards are thick through the shoulders and chest from years of contact and power training. Hayes isn't. He's lean. Long muscles instead of bulky ones. The kind of frame that makes sense for a skilled winger. Fast. Agile. Hard to catch in open ice. The guy practically glides when he's skating.

Eventually I nod toward the arena. “Nervous?”

His expression changes immediately. The humor disappears. The walls go back up.

Interesting. Because that reaction answers the question better than words ever could.

He's terrified.

Hayes rubs a hand through his damp hair. For a while, he doesn't respond. Just starts pulling on his clothes. Then he nods.

The movement almost makes my chest hurt. “I think you'll be fine.”

Hayes huffs out a laugh. “Sure.”

“You don't?”

That earns another laugh. “The crowd is going to love me.”

The sarcasm lands hard. I can't really blame him. Some fans are cruel.

“The team has your back.” The second the words leave my mouth, I know they're wrong.

Not completely wrong. Just incomplete. Because I've seen the way the locker room works around him. I've seen the distance.

Hayes smiles. The expression is so sad it physically hurts to look at.

“Yeah?” The disbelief behind the word is impossible to miss.

I think about this morning. Hacker Hayes. About the way Hayes never defends himself.

Then I correct my statement. “Okay.”

His eyebrows lift slightly.

“The team is complicated.”

That earns a real laugh. “That's one way to put it.”

I shrug. “Fine.” Then I look him directly in the eyes. “But I have your back.”