Falling: Chapter 43

“Do you think you’ll get an award?” Wren asks, coming up behind me in the mirror while I brush my teeth. She’s wearing my shirt and nothing else as she bends over me to pick up her toothbrush. God, I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of this. I watch her in the mirror, holding tight onto my toothbrush.

“Considering how I was on the bench at the start of the season and I’ve only just got back on the team, I’m not expecting to,” I say through a foamy smile before spitting in the sink and rinsing.

“Well, it’s your help that pushed you guys to the finals, right?” she asks.

I shrug. In all honesty, I wasn’t expecting the Bears to do so well this season, but we’ve somehow made it to the conference final next week. Despite Jake’s unnecessary insults that he spits out on the ice, we’ve been stronger than ever, and I can’t wait for us to bring this championship home. We’ve been through a lot as a team. We deserve it.

“I guess you could say that,” I say, and she grins. I move behind her, and she nods, placing her toothbrush back in her mouth.

I wrap my arms around her stomach, resting my chin on her shoulder like it belongs there. “Do you think you will win?”

She rinses, but I can see the smile creeping up on her face.

All the sports students look forward to NU’s sports achievement evening every year. It usually happens every April, awarding medals and certificates to the students who have performed well that year. I almost forgot about it until Wren reminded me last weekend to find another decent outfit since we’ll be going together.

I got to watch my girl last weekend completely smash the competition at her national championship final. She performed a complicated as fuck routine to Stephen Fry’s Flying, and I was on the edge of my seat the entire time. She wasn’t nervous or anxious about it, and she got up there and won the entire thing. It helped that all of her friends were in the crowd; even Sophia and a few of her friends were there too. Her dad came with a huge banner and almost threw up next to me as he went on about how excited and nervous he was. Miss Hackerly didn’t show up, but after Wren explained to me what went down between them, I wasn’t expecting her to. Regardless, she did her best, and she came off the ice with a smile.

“I mean, I was crowned the winner of the National Collegiate Championships, so maybe,” she says, turning and leaning against the sink. “It’s not like Darcy has many options.”

“Cocky,” I mutter.

“Confident,” she corrects, and she flashes that cocky–confident grin at me, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

“You’re going to win, for sure,” I say, and she rolls her eyes.

“Of course you’re going to say that. You’re biased because we’re sleeping together,” she says.

“Sleeping together?” I echo, taken aback. She bites the inside of her cheek and nods, trying not to smile. I know she’s saying that just to get under my skin. “You’re my girlfriend, Wren; we’re not just sleeping together.

”

She feigns innocence. “Am I? I thought I was your fake girlfriend.”

I grip her chin, tilting her face up to mine. “Baby, this stopped being fake a long time ago.”

Her mouth parts, but before she can leave me a snarky comment, I press my lips to hers, ready to prove to her over and over that I can be exactly the kind of man that deserves her. If I have to worship her on my knees every day, I’ll gladly do it.

Hours later, I step out of my truck with Kennedy, Scarlett, and Wren all unbuckling their seatbelts. We’re only allowed to bring one plus one to these events, but Wren thought it would be better if we each took one of her girls as our “dates” since she wanted them both there. It’s not a problem for me. The only thing I don’t like is how much Scarlett and Kennedy bully me.

Wren says it’s because they like me, but I don’t see how that makes any sense. I thought after they helped me get to see Wren when she was going through a hard time that they’d warmed up to me, but they haven’t.

I open the back door to let the girls out of the car, holding my hand out for Kennedy. “Wow, you’re such a gentleman,” she coos as she slips out of the car.

“I try to be,” I say coyly.

Scarlett rolls her eyes, and when I hold out my hand to her, she grabs it with unnecessary force. “Only when he’s not fucking Wren’s brains out and ruining my meal.”

“That was one time,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes at her.

“One time too many,” she bites back.

“Does Wren know you’re such an asshole to me?”

“Yes,” she says, stepping out of the car, “and she encourages it.”

I roll my eyes and step away from her. I sometimes think that Scarle tt is insane enough to either cast a spell on me or get her family to ruin my life. I know she’s just protective, and it’s sweet that Wren has friends who have her back like this.

Wren rounds the car, meeting us on the other side, and she slips her arm around mine. “You look good,” she murmurs as we make our way to the building that’s holding the event.

“You’ve said that already,” I reply, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“I know, and I actually mean it.”

“Actually? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kennedy turns around, laughing at me. “It means that she was lying all the other times.”

“Is that true?” I ask Wren, who’s trying her absolute hardest not to laugh.

She shrugs. “This tux is hot. You should wear one more often.”

I scoff. “I’m not Evan. I don’t wear a tie unless I actually have to.”

That catches Scarlett’s attention as we push open the thick wooden doors to one of the oldest buildings on campus. “What’s up with that? Does he think he’s going to get photographed every time h e leaves his house?”

“Probably,” I say. I don’t think I’ve seen my housemate wear anything but a suit. It’s weird.

“What a loser,” Scarlett mumbles, and we all follow her into the building.

Holy fuck.

I don’t think I’ve ever walked into this building before. The foyer is made with rich, dark wood paneling and historical portraits of past university luminaries. Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. The air is filled with a mix of excitement and formality as students mill around wearing their Sunday best.

We walk down a wide corridor lined with crimson carpets, our footsteps muffled by the plush fabric. The walls are decorated with old photographs and trophies, showcasing the university’s rich sporting history.

At the end of the corridor, we enter the main hall, which has been transformed into an Oscar-like setting. Rows of elegant, upholstered chairs are arranged before a grand stage, draped with deep-blue velvet curtains. Spotlights highlight a podium at the center, flanked by large screens that display the event’s logo.

The tables are set with fine china and sparkling glassware, centerpieces of fresh flowers adding splashes of color. Waitstaff in crisp uniforms move efficiently, placing hors d’oeuvres and drinks before the guests. A live band plays softly in the background, adding to the sophisticated ambiance.

“Wow,” Wren exclaims beside me. “They really went all out.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “This is impressive.”

She nudges me. “Better not spill anything on that tux. It’d be a shame.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry; I’ll be on my best behavior.”

We find our seats near the front, joining other athletes and their dates. The excitement in the room is palpable, everyone dressed to the nines and ready to celebrate the year’s achievements.

As we settle in at our table with Xavier, Michelle, Tyler, and their partner Beau, I glance at Wren. Her eyes are wide with wonder, a small smile playing on her lips. I squeeze her hand, and she looks up at me, her smile widening.

“You’re the most stunning person here, Wren,” I whisper just for her to hear. She doesn’t respond; I honestly don’t think she needs to. The way her eyes shine and her smile widens, I know she knows it just as much as I do.

As I settle into my seat, the reality of the evening starts to hit me. It’s not just any sports achievement evening. It’s the sports achievement evening, and I’m about to meet Josh Raymond. Josh F ucking Raymond. I can feel my heartbeat quicken just thinking about it.

I’ve idolized Josh since I was a kid. He was the standout player for the NU Bears, and now he’s tearing it up in the pros for the Utah Grizzlies. I’ve watched all his games, memorized his stats, and even tried to mimic his moves on the ice. He’s the reason I started playing hockey in the first place. The idea of meeting him in person is enough to make my palms sweat.

Wren notices my silence and gives my hand a squeeze. “You okay?”

I nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just… you know, big night.”

She laughs softly. “You’re going to be fine. Just be yourself.”

Be myself. Easier said than done when you’re about to meet your hero. What if I say something stupid? What if he thinks I’m just another fanboy? I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

Across from me, Xavier laughs. “Dude, you look like you’re going to have an aneurysm.”

“You do know that Josh Raymond is coming tonight, right?” I ask, scanning the room again. As expected, he hasn’t arrived in the last three seconds. Xavier shakes his head, letting out an incredulous laugh.

“Don’t act like you weren’t like that last year, Z,” Michelle says, laughing before taking a sip of her punch. “You practically shit yourself when you met Dean Mayer, and you wouldn’t stop talking about it for weeks.”

“She’s got you there,” Wren mutters, and Xavier shrugs happily. We’ve all got our particular favorites for the NU Bear’s team of ’15. Mayer was the left defense, and Raymond was the center and the captain, and they both play for the same team now. “I’m obsessed with your dress, Michelle. Where did you get it?”

“I made it myself, actually,” Michelle replies with a soft smile, pushing her braids over her shoulder. Michelle, Wren, Scarle tt, and Kennedy float into a conversation about fashion and a bunch of other girl shit that I don’t have a clue about.

Wren keeps her hand on my leg the entire time as she talks to them, constantly reminding me she’s still there while I listen to another one of Tyler’s boring stories. Don’t get me wrong, Tyler is one of the funniest people I know, but there is one thing they can’t do: tell a good story.

“And that’s how I almost got arrested.” Tyler ends the rant, and Xavier, Beau, and I exchange knowing glances.

“So, you went through that entire story–—plot twists and all—just to tell us how you didn’t get arrested?” Xavier asks, running his hands down his face in exhaustion. Tyler nods with a cheesy grin pulling at their cheeks.

“Yeah. Well, you had to know the contexts, obviously,” Tyler begins before diving into another deep conversation about how things didn’t happen.

The doors swing open, and the entire gym erupts into a thunderous cheer, saving me from another one of Tyler’s stories. Legends of NU’s sports history—basketball, football, soccer, and ice hockey players—stride in, dressed to the nines as if attending the most prestigious event of their careers. They take their seats at designated tables under the watchful eyes of the current students and faculty.

The screech of microphone feedback grabs everyone’s attention, redirecting it to the makeshift stage at the front of the room. There stands Billy Carhart, assistant head of the sports department, behind a podium. I thought Hacks would have presented the event, but she’s in a corner with the other faculty and hasn’t looked our way all night. What a coward.

“Good evening, everyone,” he begins, prompting another round of enthusiastic applause. Wren glances at me, beaming, completely unaware that I heard her earlier conversation. I press a kiss to her forehead, and she turns back to face the stage, nestling into my chest .

“As you’ve noticed, tonight, we welcome back generations of North’s sports stars. But tonight is not about them. It’s about each one of you—our current students—whose dedication to your sport is unparalleled.”

He continues, praising our commitment and expressing how fortunate he feels to have such talented individuals playing the sports he loves. My mind drifts, excitement building within me as I anticipate talking to Josh Raymond. Carhart passes the mic to the basketball and soccer coaches, who proceed to present awards to their top students.

I snap back to attention when they announce the skating team’s awards. Wren’s shyness from this morning is nowhere to be seen as she strides confidently toward the stage even before her name is called. Of course, she knew she’d win.

Our entire table rises, clapping for her. She throws us an embarrassed smile as she accepts her certificate, while a projector plays her best moments on the ice. My girl is incredibly talented.

Kennedy and Scarlett tear up like proud parents, and I put two fingers in my mouth and whistle. Wren’s eyes widen as she descends the stage, clearly loving and hating the attention simultaneously.

“See? I told you you’d win,” I whisper when she’s back at the table, snuggled into my side. “You are brilliant, baby.”

She looks up at me, tears lining her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. She opens her mouth, but no words come out. Instead, she kisses my cheek. “Thank you,” she whispers.

The host’s voice pulls me back to the present as he announces the next award. The spotlight shifts, and there he is—Josh Raymond—walking up to the stage to present the award. He looks just as cool and composed as ever, a testament to his years of experience under the spotlight.

The award is for one of the star players this season, and even though we might not have won just yet, I’m not surprised that Xavier wins. He works harder than most people on the team, and granting him captaincy instead of me was the best decision Coach Tucker ever made. He deserves this, and I’m so proud of him.

My mind starts to spin with a million thoughts when he steps down and Josh returns to the corner he was in.

What do I say to him? Should I mention that game-winning goal he scored against Denver? Or maybe talk about the time he single-handedly turned around a losing streak for the Grizzlies? I don’t want to come off as too intense, but I also don’t want to miss this chance to connect with him.

The ceremony continues, but my focus is split. Half of me is trying to pay attention to the awards being handed out, while the other half is rehearsing lines in my head. By the time the final award is announced, I’m a bundle of nerves.

Wren leans in, her breath warm against my ear. “Relax. You’re going to do great.”

I nod, taking another deep breath. The lights come back up, and people start milling around, chatting and congratulating each other. This is it. My chance.

“Do you want to come with me?” I ask Wren, itching to get out of my seat.

“Sure. But you’ve got to promise not to freak out,” she says, grabbing both sides of my face and shaking me. “You’ve got this, Milesy.”

The moment we approach Josh, my heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. He’s engaged in conversation with a couple of other athletes, but when he sees us, he smiles and extends his hand. “Hey, I’m Josh Raymond. Nice to meet you.”

I grasp his hand, hoping mine isn’t too sweaty. “Miles Davis. It’s an honor to meet you. I’ve been a fan of yours since your college days.”

Josh’s smile widens. “Thanks, man. That means a lot. You play hockey here, right?

”

I nod, trying to keep my voice steady. “Yeah, I’m a forward for the Bears.”

He nods appreciatively. “That’s great. I’ve heard good things about the team this year. Keep working hard, and who knows where it’ll take you.”

I glance at Wren, feeling the need to introduce her. “This is my girlfriend, Wren. She’s the captain of the figure skating team.”

Wren smiles warmly and shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Josh. We’re both big fans.”

Josh nods at her. “Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about the figure skating team’s achievements. You guys are killing it.”

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, I take a deep breath and dive into the topic that’s been on my mind. “Josh, I wanted to ask… how do you keep pushing forward after losing someone close to you? My best friend, Carter Reyes, passed away at the end of last season. He was a huge fan of yours too.”

Josh’s expression softens, and he nods slowly. “I’m really sorry to hear about Carter. Losing someone you care about is never easy. When I lost a teammate back in college, it hit me hard. What helped me was remembering why I started playing in the first place and honoring his memory by giving my best every time I hit the ice. It’s about channeling that grief into something positive, something that keeps their memory alive.”

I swallow hard, feeling a lump in my throat. “Carter was my rock. He believed in me more than I did myself sometimes. I just… I don’t want to let him down.”

Josh places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You won’t. Just keep playing with your heart, and you’ll make him proud. And don’t be afraid to lean on the people around you. It’s okay to let them help you through it.”

We talk for a few more minutes, with Josh offering advice on improving my game and sharing some stories from his own career. By the end of the conversation, I feel a mix of exhilaration and re lief. I did it. I met Josh Raymond, and I didn’t make a complete fool of myself.

As Wren and I walk away, she grins up at me. “See? I told you you’d be fine.”

I smile back. “Yeah. Thanks for believing in me.”

She squeezes my hand. “Always. And Miles, Carter would be so proud of you.”

Her words bring a tear to my eye, but I blink it away, nodding. “Yeah. I hope so.”

The remainder of the night goes by perfectly, and I couldn’t be happier to be spending time with my teammates, my girl, and her friends. Everything about just being here with them feels natural and like it’s always supposed to be like this. I just wish there was one other person I could share it with.