The Best Is Yet to Come

Chapter 20

Nicole's P.O.V.

The Olympics went by faster than I wanted them to.

We were undefeated the for the whole tournament and tomorrow we were gonna play for a gold medal.

I had been picking up more publicity through out the Olympics, which is exactly what I didn't want. I was doing an interview in the middle of the village, I was surrounded by maybe 50 cameras and about 30 or 40 reporters. One English speaking German reporters voice sent chills down my spine.

"Hi Nicole I'm Christopher McCarthy, I was wondering how do you manage at least 2 points per game?" He asked.

That name. It had given me nightmares 'Oh shit!' I thought. I looked into his brown eyes and I felt paralyzed.

"Umm I don't know. It's.. It's... Excuse me." I said as I cut threw the crowd and ran to the Finnish housing unit.

"Hey Nicole what's up?" Tuukka Rask asked as I walked swiftly into the building.

"I...uh I need to talk to Olli is he here?" I asked.

"Ya, he's in room. 307 I think."

"Ok thanks. Good luck tonight." I said as Finland was playing in the semifinals against Sweden later that night.

"Thanks. Good luck tomorrow." He smiled and we parted ways.

I walked up to Olli's room and carefully knocked on the door, by this time I had tears running down my cheek.

"Hey." He asked groggily.

"Hi." I smiled weakly.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He asked ushering me into his room.

"My ex boyfriend here. He's a reporter. And he asked me some questions and I just freaked out. And I just needed to see you." I said hugging him and sobbing into his shoulder.

"It's ok. I'm here, it's ok. I love you. It's ok. I don't know what this feels like but do what you said you wanted to." He said rubbing my back.

"What?" I asked confused.

"You said you wanted to rub your success in his face and then kick him in the nuts." He smirked at me.

"You're right. Thank you. I love you." I said as I headed for the door.

"You're welcome. I love you too." He smiled.

"Hey Olli, kick some Swedish ass tonight." I smirked at him.

"I'll do my best." He said, as I walked out of the door and back down to the village.

I was walking back to where all the interviewers still were, knowing I'd have ever more questions to answer.

I stepped back into the spot light and the cameras started flashing.

"I apologize for the delay, for those of you who don't know I suffer from anxiety and all the questions and cameras made start to freak out." I answered the question nobody was willing to ask.

All the interviewers asked more and more questions that I started to answer. When it came to his question I answered it honestly.

"It's fairly easy, I mean in the NHL I strictly play back, in fear that I won't be able to get back to defend if I move forward" I answered, "but here I know I'm fast and have probably the longest stride, I know I can get back in time. So I'm moving to forward more, taking more shots and getting more chances and points."

Once the interviews were over I walked away but was soon stopped by a firm grip on my arm.

I whipped around and was faced with the guy who gave me hell.