Kiss And Make Up: My Ex Is The Hockey Captain

Arabella's POV

The first thing I checked that morning was my name tag.

ARABELLA HAYES

SPORTS MEDICINE VOLUNTEER

I traced the laminated card with my thumb and smiled.

How ridiculous was it that this plastic tag meant so much to me?

Three applications.

Two interviews.

One first-aid certification.

And months of hearing about the impossibility of getting selected to join the medical volunteers' team for the university's game days.

There were twelve spots.

Twelve.

At the university, it seemed as if half of the pre-med students were already doctors while having no idea how to do a proper blood pressure measurement.

And today, somehow, I got one of those twelve spots.

My first volunteer assignment.

The championship game.

I looked into the mirror one more time, fixed my ponytail, and glanced at the clock.

Late again.

"Great."

I grabbed my bag and rushed out.

As soon as I entered the arena, it seemed like everyone on campus had congregated there.

Students filled the entrance area wearing their team jerseys, waving flags, carrying placards and shouting slogans. The university's colors dominated everywhere. There were posters all over the walls with pictures of either individual players and the words:

ONE GAME. ONE CHANCE. ONE CHAMPION.

I pushed through the crowd and showed my volunteer badge to security.

"Medical team?"

"Yes."

He looked at my badge. "Your first game?"

"Yes."

"Good luck."

I wasn't sure whether he wished me good luck or the whole team.

Once inside, the sounds became unbearable.

The rink shone under the lights of the arena, surrounded by thousands of excited spectators.

I had never thought of how people could be so obsessed with hockey.

I had a

Well, perhaps, in these four months of trying to become one of the medical volunteers, I've proved myself to be no better.

"Arabella!"

I turned around.

One of the senior volunteers, Mia, beckoned me.

"You're with us today. Follow Dr. Miller, don't move without permission to the ice."

"I won't."

"And if someone gets hurt?"

"Don't panic, follow the protocol, alert the athletic trainer, and assist as required."

"Good. You studied."

"I have been studying obsessively."

"I can see that."

She gave me gloves. "And congratulations."

"For what?"

"For this assignment."

I looked at the rink. "It's just a volunteer shift."

"No." She shook her head. "It's the championship. It's huge to be assigned to the bench-side medical team as a first-year."

I knew that.

Which is why my stomach was doing somersaults all morning.

I needed this assignment not only for my CV.

The deadline of the scholarship application was in six weeks, and my grades weren't enough for me to compete with hundreds of other pre-med students.

Clinical exposure.

Community service.

Leadership.

Relevant volunteer experience.

These words I had been repeating almost every day to myself.

This was my opportunity to show that I deserved that scholarship as much as anyone else.

A roar exploded in the arena.

I looked up.

Players started to skate onto the ice and the crowd went wild.

I couldn't help but smile.

The atmosphere had a happy, contagious feel. Players after players skated onto the ice, slapping their gloves against the boards.

Finally, the captain came out.

The reaction was immediate.

People stood.

Girls screamed.

Someone from behind me even shrieked his name.

I rolled my eyes. "Do they always act like that?" I asked.

Pamela laughed. "You'll get used to it."

I looked towards the rink.

The captain was tall, strong-looking, and extremely confident. He wore a helmet that covered most of his face, but still, I could see the distinct lines of his jaw as he was talking to one of his teammates.

He raised his stick.

Another explosion of cheers from the crowd.

"What's his name?" I asked.

Pamela looked at me like I'd announced I didn't know anything about oxygen. "You don't know that?"

"No."

She laughed. "That's our captain."

"I figured that out."

"Maxwell..."

The referee blew the whistle and the game started, she turned her focus to the game.

During the next forty minutes, I forgot about everything except for the rink.

They were playing incredibly fast. The players collided against the boards. Their sticks collided. The puck flew so fast that I lost track of it several times.

And the captain?

He was everywhere.

He scored once during the first period.

Then again during the second one.

By the third period, the whole arena was shaking.

"Come on!" Pamela shouted.

I laughed.

Seems like I've begun to get the game.

The score was equal with less than four minutes to go.

The captain took possession. He skated across the ice with incredible speed.

One defender.

Another defender.

The crowd was jumping from their seats.

So did I.

He shot.

The puck flew into the goal.

The arena exploded.

The crowd screamed.

His teammates ran to him.

For a brief second, he was standing with his stick raised up, surrounded by his teammates.

And then the opposing player crashed into him from the back.

Hard.

The captain's body crashed against the boards.

The sound made my stomach drop.

Everything changed instantly.

The medical team moved.

I followed.

"Arabella, stay with me!"

I grabbed the medical kit and skated onto the ice.

The captain wasn't moving.

My heartbeat increased.

The athletic trainer dropped down next to him.

"Give us some space." I knelt down next to him, ready to assist. "Can you hear me?"

The captain groaned in reply.

"Good. Don't move."

The trainer tried to open his helmet.

"Easy," I said.

He raised his head slightly.

I moved forward. "Sir, can you tell me your name?"

He didn't respond.

The trainer repeated the question while the player opened his eyes and looked into mine.

Everything inside me stopped.

The noise faded.

The arena disappeared.

The years between us disappeared.

I knew these eyes.

I didn't need to see his face to recognize those eyes. I even knew the smile he hadn't even shown me yet.

There were a thousand places where I could have met him again.

Coffee shop.

Grocery store.

Random street.

Anywhere except here.

Anytime except now.

His eyes widened. "Arabella?"

I froze.

Maxwell?

His eyes fell upon my name tag.

ARABELLA HAYES.

He removed his helmet himself and I saw as his face changed.

Confusion.

Disbelief.

And something very dangerously close to hope. "You're divorced?"

I looked at him.

"Divorced?"