Coming Up for Air (cole caufield x oc)

Three

freyzygorl69 on instagram: on my way to see @urmommyjess so she can drag me to a sports game 🤮

♥ Liked by tateisgr8 and 12 others.

Comments:

tateisgr8: bring me back some popcorn

   ↪freyzygorl69: dont know if i will survive w/o u

thepiedpfieffer: to a what? who are u and what have u done with my sister

   ↪freyzygorl69: i took her somewhere you will never find her (a hockey game)

urmommyjess: 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

   ↪tateisgr8: wanna team up and beat her up

        ↪ ↪freyzygorl69: hate u both 🖤

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jessgalla's story

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𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕪𝕒

The last thing Freya expected was for Jess's suitor to get them two tickets at ice level. Not only that, but they're right next to the Canadiens' bench. Jess hadn't bothered with wearing Montreal's colors, though she did get a jersey from her parents' house the morning of the game. In the hopes that they wouldn't look too out of place, Freya put it on. Clearly, the jersey is meant for a man much bigger than she is, so it hangs nearly down to her knees.

It's for whoever is number twenty-two with the last name Caufield—Freya didn't bother looking him up beforehand. Just as long as it wasn't the jersey of the guy Jess was there to see, she agreed she would wear it.

As she and Jess sink into their seats just behind the board, each with a beer in hand, Freya starts to get nervous. So much for staying away from athletes, she scolded herself. Now she is damn near face-to-face with over twenty of them. They're in the middle of their warm-up, skating circles around their goal and hurling pucks at the net.

The area hasn't quite filled up yet, but tonight is supposedly a big game with a division rival—at least that's what it says when Freya looks it up online. A text appears at the top of her screen just as she starts to put her phone away.

Messages

the team 👩‍👧‍👧

brother bear
no way someone actually dragged
your ass to a hockey game.

Freya
unfortunately, someone did in
fact drag my ass to a hockey game 🙃

Mom
Is it a date?!

brother bear
no fucking way it's a date and we
don't already know about it

Freya
maybe it's a secret billionaire
that wants our relationship to
stay private 😶‍🌫️ or some shit

Mom
I know I didn't raise y'all to cuss
this much

brother bear
lol you definitely did. you said
fuck three times on the phone
when i called earlier

Mom
Don't listen to him. so why are
you at the game baby? if you're sure
it's not a date!

Freya
it's not a date!! i swear!
my friend is like ~seeing~ someone
on the team and he invited her
to a game, but she didn't want to go
alone.

brother bear
hmmmmm i'm not convinced

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Freya rolls her eyes, returning her phone to her pocket. She has always been close with her brother and mom, but sometimes she feels like all they care about is getting her a new boyfriend—like that will somehow make everything that happened with Dalton all better. Deep down, Freya is sure that they, like her, understand she will be dealing with Dalton's damage for a long time. They just care about her too much to speak it into existence.

Lost in her thoughts, Freya hardly feels Jess nudging her in the ribs. "There he is," she whispers, smiling. Jess indicates the player who has just stepped onto the ice. "He looks even better in person," she purrs.

Freya lets out a little laugh, her eyes following him around the ice. She only stops when she notices two players talking, one leaning over with his stick across his knees while the other cocks his head in her direction.

At first, she assumes they're looking at Jess; maybe Kirby told his teammates that he was inviting a model to their game tonight and it hadn't taken them long to figure out who that model was. After all, Jess commands every room she enters—even if that room is an arena that could hold thousands of fans.

But then, the shorter of the two men, the one who now covers his mouth with his gloved hand so that Freya cannot read his lips, seems to meet her gaze. Anxiously, Freya lowers her head, desperate to avoid the attention, but when she looks up again, he's still looking at her. Now, however, the taller of the men, appears to be skating directly towards her.

He's just going to the bench, Freya assures herself. He's just going to the bench, he's just going to the bench, he's just going to the—

He bangs on the glass in front of her face. Jess, always unafraid, smiles and wiggles her fingers in a wave. Freya, on the other hand, can't keep her jaw from falling open in shock. Slowly, she lifts her gaze, scanning his uniform as she goes. On his shoulder is the letter C, an indication that he is the team's captain—as Freya learned from the internet only a few hours prior.

Even through the glass, Freya can still understand him—or at least understand him well enough to know that he's speaking broken French. Jess taps on the glass to draw his attention away from Freya for a moment, shouting, "She speaks English!"

Swallowing the fear in her throat, Freya manages a nod of agreement and meets the eyes of the man in front of her. "You're a fan of Cole," he declares, his words only a little muffled by the glass between them.

Freya furrows her brows, confused, and then shakes her head. "Who?" she asks, though her voice is so quiet that it's hard to imagine the player can even hear her on the ice.

He gets the gist, though, pointing a finger at her chest and then tapping the logo on his own jersey. Freya glances down at the jersey she's wearing.

Cole.

"Oh!" she exclaims, understanding. He must have noticed the number on the shoulder of her jersey. "Yeah, Caufield," she replies, which Freya quickly realizes has to make her sound outrageously stupid. Heat rushes into her cheeks as the player laughs, already starting to skate away.

He goes right back to the player he'd been talking to before, only now Freya notices the number on his jersey: twenty-two.

So that's Cole Caufield.