Page 79 of Tough Score
She looks up, a smile spreading across her face. "I didn't know you were coming. Yeah, sure, could you help me with these napkins?"
As we work, each of us takes a stack and lays a napkin, perfectly pre-folded onto each plate around the place setting; I look around and notice that someone I was expecting to see is missing.
"Where's Jaxson? I thought he might be here."
Keely's hands pause for a moment before resuming their task. "Oh, I don't know. He's probably on call tonight. That would be my guess."
I try to keep my voice neutral, but her lack of knowledge about where the man she's dating is on a major holiday seems odd. "You don't know where your boyfriend is?"
She doesn't look up across the table as she continues her task, dropping the last couple of napkins down. "He's not my boyfriend. We're not dating."
They're not dating? Didn't they go on their first date?
Before I can ask her to clarify, Tessa and Brynn approach us, both grinning.
"Keely, where do you want us to put the glasses and silverware?" Tessa asks.
"Oh, um, maybe over by the bar for now? We can bring them over once the table's set," Keely suggests.
As the girls head off to follow her instructions, I try to catch Keely's eye again, but we're interrupted by Oakley's booming voice.
"Alright, everyone! Turkey's ready. Let's get this feast started."
The next few minutes are a flurry of activity as dishes are brought out and everyone finds their seats. I end up sitting across from Keely, with Seven on one side of me and Brent on the other. The table is laden with golden-brown turkey, mountains of mashed potatoes, boats of gravy, and every side dish imaginable.
Once everyone is seated, Oakley stands, clinking his glass with a fork to get our attention. The room falls silent as all eyes turn to him.
"Before we dig in," he begins, his voice warm and full of emotion, "I'd like to propose a toast. This year, I'm grateful for many things, but most of all, I'm grateful for family —both old and new."
His eyes find Keely, and I see her smile softly.
"I'm thankful for Keely moving closer, and for the Hawkeyes family who have given her a reason to stay," Oakley continues. Then, to my surprise, he turns to me. "And to Reeve, for also keeping my girl safe."
I feel a flush creep up my neck as Keely and I make brief eye contact before she quickly looks away.
As Oakley sits down, I feel compelled to stand. All eyes turn to me, and I clear my throat. I'm not one who suffers from stage fright, if I did, I wouldn't have picked to play professional hockey, but there's a lot riding on me getting this right.
"I, uh, I'd also like to say something if that's alright," I begin. "I'm thankful to be cleared to be back on the ice. I'm grateful for a great team who has had my back through some tough moment," I say, looking to my right and then to my left at my Seven and Brent, "and I'm thankful this year for another chance to take our team to the playoffs." Seven, Brent and Lake all sound off in agreement. "but mostly..." I pause, my eyes finding Keely's across the table. "I'm grateful for Keely. Not only for giving everything she had to get me back on the ice… but for being the unwavering support I never knew I needed. You've become an essential part of my life, my best friend. Your strength and compassion have inspired me, and I can't imagine facing the challenges ahead without you by my side. I love you."
Keely's eyes widen and she abruptly pushes back from the table, her chair scraping against the floor as she stands.
"Excuse me," she mumbles, rushing towards the back of the bar.
Without thinking, I follow her, ignoring the curious glances from our friends. I find her in the hallway leading to the restrooms, her back to me as she leans against the wall.
"Keely?" I say softly, approaching her. "Are you okay?"
She turns to face me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Reeve, I... I can't do this."
"Do what?" I ask, taking a step closer.
"This," she gestures between us. "Pretending like there's nothing between us when clearly there is."
My heart races at her words. "Then stop pretending and be with me," I say, reaching for her hand.
She shakes her head, but she doesn't let go. "We can't."
"Why? Because you think no one will want to touch me just because of who your dad is?"