When The Whistle Blows

Chapter 8

Astrid (Aiden)

"Luka?" I groaned with my eyes still squinted from sleep as I tried to sit up. I immediately regretted the decision as my body screamed in protest. Confusion clogged my thoughts as pain radiated from my ribs.

I heard shuffling of feet as a smooth accented voice spoke. "Ssh love, you're alright."

"Bentley?" A warm hand brushed my red hair out of my face as I stared up at light green eyes.

"Yeah, it's me." My eyes finally opened fully and I took in Bentley's crouched form next to me.

He didn't have the usual smile on his face. Which made me feel guilty. I've known him for three years and he had to find out from someone else that I'm not who everyone thinks I am.

"I'm sorry I didn't tel-"

Bentley cut me off as he waved his hands. "No. That's not why I'm upset. I don't care that you're a girl." He paused. "Well I do care, but that's a conversation for another time. "I'm upset that your hurt and in pain and there's nothing I can do about it." His frown deepened.

"But I lied to you. And the team. You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not. I'm sure you had your reasons. I'm sure you'll tell me someday if you wish. but this isn't about me right now. How are you feeling?" His green eyes flicked down to my visibly bruised skin, as my shirt had lifted up at some point in my sleep.

"I'm on top of the world." I cringed as I rolled onto my good side. My meds must've been wearing off because the pain was getting to be extreme. Showing up with every breath I took.

"You know you can really tell me how you feel?" Bentley sighed.

"I'm sorry. That's how I cope. It's easier to be sarcastic than to appear weak." My right hand moved to rest on my ribs as I stared at the ceiling.

"Well, I won't ever think you weak. I know for a fact, any guy on the team would be in tears right now. But here you are, acting tough." Something like admiration shown in his eyes.

Bentley's phone buzzed.

He glanced at his phone and chuckled. "Luka." He read the text then shot back a reply. Pocketing the phone, he spoke to me. "He wants to know if you're awake and if so, how you are feeling."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That you are nearly back to your old self."

We sat in comfortable silence as Ben took a seat on the carpet, as close to me as he could sit.

Bentley knows who I really am, and what I really am and he doesn't care. He's barely treating me any different, besides a few longing glances and a nickname that he definitely would not have called me if he thought I was still Aiden.

Maybe I was wrong to assume that my college team would treat me the same that my high school team did.

Could guys actually not be pigs?

My mind played a particular rough memory of my high school hockey days.

The boys on my high school team hated that I was better than all of them AND a girl. Plus they were always thinking with their dicks whenever I was around.

Some even went as far as touching me to remind me that I was not one of them.

I tried to repress the shiver that rose in me as I felt those phantom hands for the millionth time.

Those were the worst experiences in my life.

I cried the whole way home many nights, and in the shower, and I cried myself to sleep.

For the last two years of my high school career I felt dirty.  I debated quitting the team for most of my senior year. That was until a college scout approached me. She must've seen my hesitation. And not wanting my talent to go to waste, she figured out what was wrong with me and helped me. She also came up with an amazing idea to disguise myself until I knew what this team was like.

Who would've thought that I would have kept the facade going for four years?

Shaking off my awful memories, I finally broke the silence with a question that had been chewing at me. "How did you get in my apartment?"

Bentley grinned. His old smile finally making an appearance.

"There's that smile." I couldn't help but grin at his beautiful smile that lit up his whole face.

"Luka called and asked me to come over. He said Henrik is supposed to too, but he wasn't sure when and he wanted someone to be here when you woke up."

"Well, thanks for that." I smiled sincerely at Ben.

Things seemed different between us. It was hard to explain but the tension that was usually clouding my words was gone and that was freeing.

A small part of me was excited about this change.

"Wait," something clicked in my head. "You said Henrik is supposed to come over?"

Bentley looked at the phone time. "Uh yeah, but I don't know when."

"Shit." I cursed as I tried to get up.

"Hey hey whoah. What's the rush?" Bentley asked as he tried to calm me down.

"Henrik doesn't know," I motioned to my braless chest for emphasis.

Realization flickered across Ben's face as he eyed where I had emphasized. "Oh, right. What do you need from me?"

My mind raced. "Well, I can't wear a wrap... or a bra for that matter. Maybe a sweatshirt?" I thought out loud.

"On it." Bentley jumped up from the floor and walked into my room.

About a minute later he walked out with one of my thickest sweatshirts.

"As much as I love your current attire," Ben smirked as he held that sweatshirt just out of my reach, "I suppose you have your reasons for wanting to keep this a secret still." Ben finally handed me the sweatshirt.

But not before a familiar voice spoke, "No need for that."

Shit, shit, shit, shitttt...

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Thank you for reading Chapter 8. I hope you liked this chapter. Sorry, I haven't posted in a couple of days, I've been busy with school, but I've got a break coming up so I should be throwing out some chapters in the next couple of days.
~Until Next Chapter