Offside Hearts: Chapter 13
Offside Hearts (Love and Hockey Book 1)
Over the next week, I start to fall into a grove of sorts.
I monitor and upload to TikTok in the morning, post to Instagram and Facebook later in the day, and then usually look over the traffic flow to the teamâs official website before clocking out. Thereâs a rhythm to social media, a natural ebb and flow that viewers tend to follow, and after a few weeks of studying it, Iâm pretty confident that I know exactly when our fans are online and when they arenât.
Iâve had more success with TikTok than any of the other social media platforms, but for some reason, getting fans to use specific hashtags isnât as easy as I thought it would be. Still, our numbers are increasing, with most of the accounts having grown exponentially in popularity since I was hired. My hard work is paying off and being recognized, and I feel as if Iâve really found my stride.
Everything is going great, which is why itâs so frustrating when my tooth begins to throb as Iâm sitting in the stands of the practice rink, taking shots of the team running drills. I thought I felt some pain yesterday when I took a sip from a particularly cold glass of iced tea, but it didnât linger, so I ignored it and went about my day.
Now the pain is back, and itâs sharper than ever. I grimace, sucking in a breath through my teeth.
This same tooth had some pain a couple of months ago, and when I went to the dentist, he told me Iâd probably need a root canal. But then the company I was working for folded, I ended up without a job, and I got distracted by the grind of polishing up my resume and job hunting. The ache went away after a while, so I figured maybe it had gotten better on its ownâbut clearly I was wrong.
I move my jaw around a little, which sends little sparks of pain flying all over the right side of my face, and I end up missing a great photo opportunity as Noah sinks the puck into the net. I stop trying to take photos and send a text to my sister, who messaged me a few minutes ago to ask if Iâm free this weekend to watch April for a couple hours.
ME: Not sure. Iâd love to help if I can, but Iâm having some pretty bad tooth pain.
She texts back almost immediately.
HEATHER: What? Did you ever go in and have that root canal?
ME: No. ð
HEATHER: I canât believe you would put that off! These things can be really serious, Mar!
ME: I know, I know! But the pain went away, so I didnât think it was really a big deal.
HEATHER: So suddenly youâre a dentist? You have to get it taken care of as soon as possible, or itâs just going to get worse.
I donât answer for a few seconds, my focus pulled away by the sound of cheers. Someone just made another goal, but I donât know who, and Iâm mad at myself for not paying more attention to what I came here to do.
My sister tries to call me, and when I donât pick up, she sends me another text.
HEATHER: Hey, I just tried to call. Iâm serious, Mar. I know you get caught up in work stuff, but you need to make time for this.
ME: I know. Hang on, Iâm at work. I have to get a few more photos, then Iâll step away and call you.
She starts to type something, then the three dots go away, and I donât receive any new messages from her. I go back to taking photos, even though my jaw is still throbbing, and the pain has started to give me a tension headache. I breathe my way through it and get a few more semi-decent shots before Coach Dunaway calls the end of practice, then I hurry out into the hallway to call my sister.
She picks up right away.
âI just got off the phone with Dr. Reynolds,â she tells me, and I can tell sheâs in full-on mother mode right now. âHe can see you as early as Friday.â
I bite back a smile, wincing because that hurts too. Dr. Reynolds is the dentist Heather and I used to go to in Boulder when we were kids.
âUm, Iâm pretty sure heâs a pediatric dentist,â I remind her. âI havenât seen him in years. I have a different dentist here in Denver that Iâm going to see. A very good one, I might add.â
âWell, he canât be that good,â she argues. âIf he just let you go weeks on end without calling and telling you to make an appointment for your root canal.â
âYeah, well⦠about that. They did call. A few times. I never called back.â
âMargo!â
âWhat do you want from me? It all happened around the same time SheMoves went under, and I was busy. The pain went away, so I thought the problem went away too.â
She groans. âI get it. Just promise me youâre going to call them today, and get the earliest appointment they have. If you need me to drive you, thatâs fine. Iâll make it work.â
I nod, then remember that she canât see me. Which means I actually have to talk, even though it hurts every time I open my jaw too wide.
âOkay,â I say, trying to keep my jaw as stationary as possible. âIâll make an appointment and let you know when it is. Because youâre right, Iâll probably need a ride. But I donât want you to have to miss work or anything. If itâs not a good time for you, then Iâll ask Derek or Josh.â
âGood. Keep me posted.â
I hang up with Heather and call my dentist right away. Luckily, they have an opening on Friday as well, which is two days from now. I tell them Iâll take it, then end the call and put a reminder in my calendar.
A stray strand of hair tickles my face as I slip my phone into my pocket, and without thinking about it, I reach up to brush it away. In the process, I end up smacking the side of my cheek by accident, and the pain from my tooth radiates outward with shocking intensity. I let out a little yelp and glance around to see if anyone noticed.
Of course, someone did.
Noah.
He and the rest of the team are coming out of the locker room, and he makes his way over to me in a beeline, a look of concern on his face.
âHey,â he says once heâs close enough. âIs everything okay?â
âOh, yeah, everythingâs fine,â I tell him, smiling through the pain. Or trying to, at least. âJust some tooth pain, nothing to worry about.â
âTooth pain?â
âYeah. I have to go in for a root canal on Friday. No biggie. But I accidentally hit the side of my face just now, so if I look like Iâm in agony⦠itâs because I am. But Iâll be okay.â
âOuch.â He winces sympathetically. âRoot canals are supposed to hurt pretty bad, arenât they?â
âI think so,â I acknowledge, cradling the side of my face gently. âBut Iâll probably get knocked out for it. Iâve always had a really hard time with dental work. I freaked out and barfed on my dentist when I was a kid. So now, for bigger procedures, I found a place that will give me the good stuff to keep me calm.â
âThatâs good.â He nods, then furrows his brows as if something just occurred to him. âWhoâs driving you?â
âExcuse me?â
âYou canât drive yourself if theyâre going to put you under,â he points out. âSo youâll need someone to take you, and then someone to make sure you get home safely.â
âOh.â My heart irrationally trips over itself as I shake my head. âMy sister will do it. Sheâs just up north in Boulder, and so are my brothers. So if she canât do it, Iâll beg one of them for a ride.â
âBoulderâs too far. Iâll drive you.â
âItâs nice of you to offer,â I stammer. âBut really, itâs not a big deal. Heather can totally do it.â Then I frown, as it dawns on me that the time of my appointment will be right around when April is getting out of pre-K. âAlthough I guess sheâll have to bring my niece with her. Hopefully they have toys at the dentistâs office. Something to keep April entertained while they wait.â
âSee, itâs already getting all complicated,â Noah says with a charming grin. âWhy not just let me drive you? Itâs the obvious solution. That way nobody has to come all the way from Boulder, and you wonât have to feel like youâre inconveniencing anyone.â
âBut Iâd be inconveniencing you.â
âNothing about you could ever inconvenience me, Sunflower,â he tells me sincerely. His words knock me back on my heels a little, and as Iâm working to recover my equilibrium, he adds, âCome on. Let me drive you. Iâve actually got nothing to do on Friday.â
âLiar.â I arch a brow at him. âI know your schedule.â
He gives me a flirtatious look. âOh, you do, do you?â
âI know the whole teamâs schedule,â I point out, rolling my eyes. âIt helps to know where youâll all be so that I can track you down for a photo or something when I need to.â
âWell, if you know my schedule so well, then you should know that besides practice, I have nothing going on Friday that canât be easily moved around.â He smiles and lowers his voice a little. âJust let me do this for you. Please?â
Heâs staring at me with those gorgeous blue eyes that are nearly impossible to resist, and I really donât have any good reason not to accept his help. So finally, I nod and relent.
âAlright,â I tell him. âYou can drive me.â
The next two days are rough. I can hardly eat, and even sucking on a straw to get down my homemade smoothies is painful. Because of this, I find myself under-eating, which makes me groggy and distracted at work. Iâm underperforming, to say the least.
On Friday morning, Ted takes pity on me and tells me to go home.
âYou were going to leave a little early for the root canal anyway,â he says when I begin to protest. âAnd in all honesty, you look completely miserable. Go home, get some rest, and weâll see you on Monday. If youâre feeling better, that is. If you need more time, please take it.â
Feeling incredibly lucky to have found a job where thereâs enough flexibility to allow for this sort of thing, I duck out of the office and head out to my car.
Later that afternoon, Noah texts me, asking where he should pick me up. I send him my address but ignore a follow-up text from him in which he flirtatiously lets me know that heâs going to keep the address tucked away just in case he needs it in the future.
By the time he calls me to say that heâs on his way, Iâm almost looking forward to the root canal, which is something I never thought Iâd say. But if it gets rid of this agonizing pain, Iâll gladly let the dentist do whatever he wants.
I head downstairs a few minutes later, and when I step outside, I see a black Mercedes G-Class approaching my building. The passenger side window rolls down as the vehicle comes to a stop.
âYour chariot awaits, my lady,â Noah drawls, smiling broadly. Heâs changed out of his hockey gear into street clothes, a pair of worn jeans and a long-sleeved Henley. The sleeves of his shirt are pushed up just a little, showcasing his muscular forearms.
âThanks,â I say, my voice a bit muffled as I keep my jaw clamped shut.
I climb into the car and buckle up as he fiddles around with the heat and the radio, all the while looking at me as if heâs interested in my input.
âDo you have a music preference? Is it too hot?â he asks.
Shaking my head, I close my eyes and lean back against the seat. âItâs all perfect. Honestly, I canât really focus on anything right now. I just want to get to the dentist so he can knock me out, and I can finally get a break from this stupid pain.â
âSorry, Sunflower.â He winces sympathetically. âTo the dentist we go.â
He reaches over and squeezes my knee gently, and despite what I just told him about not being able to focus on anything, Iâm hyper-aware of the warmth of his palm.
I tell him the address, and he lets go of my knee as he enters it into the carâs GPS before pulling away from the curb. We drive in silence for a short while, then Noah glances over at me.
âAre you nervous?â he asks.
I cut my gaze sideways, taking in the strong lines of his face. âYeah, I am. Hopefully I wonât remember much of it, but Iâve always been a bit scared of root canals.â
He nods, signaling before changing lanes. âIâve never had one personally, but a guy I used to play hockey with had to have two at the same time, and the way he described it? It didnât sound pleasant, Iâll say that.â
âIs this supposed to be making me feel better?â
Noah laughs. âWell, you didnât let me finish. Even though Iâve never had a root canal, I have had a bunch of other dental procedures. As you can imagine, Iâve gotten a couple teeth knocked out, and Iâm not sure thereâs a tooth left in my skull that hasnât been at least chipped.â As we come to a red light, he pulls the side of his mouth open and shows me one of his back molars.
âYa see tha?â
âHuh?â
He lets go of his mouth so he can talk normally. âI asked if you could see that. I have one less molar on the bottom. Both sides.â
âYou got your back molars knocked out?â I make a face. âIn the middle of a game? That mustâve been a really hard hit.â
âNo.â He chuckles, reaching over to brace his hand on the back of my headrest. âThose two, they took out on purpose when I was a kid. For some reason, there just wasnât enough room on the bottom for all my teeth, so they had to take out the two back ones. That way, the rest of my adult teeth would come in normally and not be all crooked and wonky.â
âOof,â I murmur, rubbing my jaw lightly.
âBut, you know, my parents,â he goes on. âTheyâve always been very concerned with appearances, so when my dentist told them I needed to have those teeth pulled, all they cared about was whether taking them out would make me look weird. It actually made my smile look better, though, so it was all good. Flash forward to high school, when I was getting more serious about hockey, and I lost one of my canines after getting hit in the face with the puck.â
I hiss out a breath, wincing at the thought. Suddenly, my root canal doesnât sound that bad after all.
âOh, yeah.â Noah draws out the words. âThat hurt. Bad. But the first question my mom asked when they rushed me to the ER was âyou can fix his smile, right? Heâs not going to look like that forever, is he?â She wasnât concerned with how much blood I was losing, or if the puck had damaged my jaw at all. She just wanted to make sure I would have a perfect smile in time for our Christmas card photo shoot a few weeks later.â
âYikes.â
He chuckles ruefully. âYup.â
Itâs a little chillier in the car than I thought at first, and I wrap my arms around myself as we stop at another light. Without taking his eyes off the road, Noah reaches down and turns the heat up a little, adjusting the vents so that more warm air is directed toward me.
I blink, surprised by the almost unconscious gesture. A new song starts to play through the speakers, and we lapse into silence as he drives the last few blocks to my dentistâs office.
Noah keeps catching me off-guard with the smallest little things. He has a way of making me feel better, even when Iâm in so much pain that I feel like my head is about to split open. As much as I try to deny the chemistry we have, and the way he makes me feel when itâs just the two of us alone, thereâs no denying the fact that he went out of his way to help me this afternoon.
And that means a lot to me.
He parks the car, and as he cuts the engine, I realize Iâve been staring at his profile for the last twenty seconds or so. I quickly rip my gaze away from him and peer out at the brick building ahead of us.
âYou ready to go in?â he asks.
âYeah,â I say, but the word comes out a little squeaky, betraying my nerves.
âHey.â His voice softens as he turns to face me. âItâs going to be okay, Sunflower. Youâve got this. Youâre tough. You survived that elevator malfunction, remember? And youâre not even afraid of flying, which means youâre basically one of the bravest people in the world, in my book.â
A laugh bursts out of me, reminding me to breathe again, and I nod. âOkay⦠yeah. I can do this.â
âYou can totally do it,â he agrees. Then he takes my hand in his and squeezes my fingers. When I look back at him, he brings my hand up to his lips and kisses my knuckles gently. âAnd Iâll be waiting to take you home the second youâre done. Sound good?â
My skin tingles, sparks dancing up my arm from the place where his lips meet my knuckles and seeming to spread throughout my entire body. Itâs just a tiny touch, the most G-rated kind of contact there is, but it feels like more somehow. It takes me a moment to get my heart rate back under control, so I end up letting him hold on for a second or two longer than I mean to. Then I pull my hand back and reach for the door handle.
âIâll see you in an hour or so,â I say, opening the door and stepping out of the car. âThanks again.â
âOf course.â He ducks his head, giving me a little wave. âGood luck. Not that youâre gonna need it.â
I glance over my shoulder before walking into the building, then straighten my spine and step inside.
A cheerful woman at the front desk greets me, giving me a bit of paperwork to fill out and confirming that someone will be giving me a ride home afterward.
As I check in for my appointment, I canât tell how many of the butterflies flapping in my stomach are because Iâm about to get a root canal⦠and how many of them showed up the moment Noah curled his fingers around mine and reminded me of what it feels like to be touched by him.