The Brick Wall

Chapter 62

*Possible trigger warning

Curtis POV

"What was that thing you did? Hitting the glass. It seemed like a pattern of sorts."

She noticed.

One might think I did such a thing out of habit, because of having done it with my mother. But in the last few months my mother has only been to one game. No, this was specifically meant for her. And she deserves to know that.

"It's something I always did with my mom when she came to a game. It stands for 1-4-3."

Collins is confused, it's evident in the way she's looking around the room, making this moment all that much sweeter for me. For today, right now, this moment to be when I tell her how I feel.

My knuckles graze her cheek before I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. "It means 1 stands for I, 4 for love, and 3 for you."

I swear I think she stops breathing. My heart is pounding out of my chest as though I just completed bag skates for thirty minutes.

I'd never said those words to anyone other than my mother and Lennox. Even now with the shock on her face I can tell I might need to be even more explicit.

The wheels in her brain are continuing to work on overdrive, her head moving all around as though that will help pieces fall into place. Using my thumb and forefinger I tip her chin back to face me. With all seriousness present in my tone and on my face, I tell her once more. "I love you, Collins Kennedy."

The tears begin to fall from her eyes. What I'd hoped would be another jump in my arms, spin around the room moment is giving me a harsh reality that I was wrong. Her lip trembles. "You don't mean that."

"What do you mean I don't mean it?" I ask, laughing to lighten her mood. "I think I'm the only one that can know something like that for certain."

"We need to go," she announces, walking out of the room and down the hall.  

  "Collins!" I call out after her, my game worn jersey clutched in my fist as I step into the hallway to see she's already at the glass doors I entered into earlier in the day.  She pushes through before I can reach her. 

  "Do you have a car tonight or do I need to get an Uber or a taxi or something?"

  She's spiraling quicker than I could've imagined. I mean, as much as I was hoping she'd immediately return the sentiment, I wasn't going to be upset if she said she isn't there yet. I don't have a problem waiting if that's what it all means, I'd just rather her talk to me about it.

  "Collins!" I yell out again just before the glass door shuts nearly in my face. Her hands are already moving over her cell phone. 

  "Mr. Everett!" a loud voice booms from the curb about twenty-five feet away, our driver from earlier in the day.  

  Collins' head bounces up towards the call as well and she makes a beeline to him. She's scooting through the open door before I even reach the guy to shake his hand.  "Good game tonight, sir."

  "Thanks," I sigh, slipping into the backseat. 

  "What's going on?"

  "Not now," she mutters, looking between the front seat and the window beside her. 

  "Off to celebrate, Mr. Everett?  I can take you over to where most of the players gather after a win."

  It had been a little bit of my hope to get to know the guys a bit, schmooze my way with some NHL players for a little longer. But with the way Collins is reacting, I'm not so sure that's a good idea.