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AliNovel > The Hockey Star鈥檚 Remorse by Riley Above Story > Chapter 2

Chapter 2

    Chapter 2


    Evie


    The night went on and I continued setting tables for a private event set for this evening. It was a


    nice little break from the constant stream of guests that woulde through.


    It was hard to tune out the highlight reels of the Thunderbolts Captain being the leading scorer in


    the league and bing the rookie of the year.


    How some people manage to be that sessful amazes me. He must be the city’s favorite


    little hockey star.


    I hummed quietly to myself as I moved around the dining room.


    “Waitress,” a woman’s shrill voice squawked. “Waitress!”


    My head snaps up at the signal. “I’m so sorry, mam,” I apologize carefully. “What can I do for you?”


    “Well, for starters, why don’t you actually serve me,” she scolds. “I have been sitting here for ten


    minutes trying to get your attention!”


    I looked around. My eyes were starting to turn towards where I stood.


    “Absolutely, mam,” I stammer. “What can I get you?”


    “I need a drink, but everyone in here seems to be too distracted by the craziness outside,” she says


    with a huff.


    I looked down at her ss. “What kind of wine would you like?”


    “Your most expensive bottle. Make it snappy,” she orders sharply.


    “Anything else?”


    “I have a super important guesting. Bring two sses,” she muttered.


    I shed a smile. “I’ll be right back with your drinks,” I say with forced cheerfulness.


    God, people like this make me furious.


    I grab the bottle of wine and bring two sses back out to the table. The woman watched me with


    cold eyes as I popped open the bottle and poured her a ss.


    “Anything—“


    The sudden ssh of fragrant red wine over my face shut me up quick. The entire restaurant went


    silent.


    “Did that finally get your attention,” sheughed smugly. “That’s for being ipetent and ruining


    our night.”


    N?velDrama.Org owns all ? content.


    “Ste, that’s enough,” a male voice said angrily,ing beside me. “Are you not embarrassed by


    treating another human being like this?”


    “Ugh, but baby, it’s our night. I bought out the restaurant just for celebrating your win,” Ste pouted


    innocently. “We can do what we want. Isn’t that right,” she looked at my name badge, “Evie?”


    The man froze – He is Timothy !!


    I once again lost any and all ability to speak. “I— uh—“


    “See? She’s fine,” Ste smirked. “I’d go get yourself cleaned, sweetie, before that stains.”


    I quickly nodded, running off to the bathroom and locking myself in a stall. Forcing myself to take


    deep breaths, it brought me back to the torment of high school. It was brutal how some kids were


    just able to rip into their peers’ self esteem like it was nothing.


    A few minutester, I finally managed to calm myself down and I stepped back onto the floor.


    My manager switched me sections after learning about my run in, and the rest of my shift went fairly


    smoothly. At least I made good tips tonight. Maybe it was the pity of the entire restaurant that filled


    my pockets. They all felt bad for the girl who got wine thrown in her face.


    I throw my apron into the dirty bin and grab my bag, throwing it tiredly over my shoulder. Without a


    single word, I head out the back of the restaurant and onto the street.


    Some jerkoff was zooming down the street in some crazy expensive sports car.


    “Wait!”


    I spun around. There behind the wheel of that crazy sports car, sat the one and only Timothy Hayes.


    He was as attractive as ever with those hazel eyes of his and his chestnut hair. His face, though still


    youthful, had matured in all the best ways. His cheeks were toned and his jaw sharp and peppered


    with stubble.


    Could this night get any worse?


    “You’re not Evie Sinir, are you?”


    I picked up the pace.


    “Just hold on a minute,” he shouts quickly. “I know you. I swear I’ve seen you before.”


    I ignored him again.


    “Can I at least give you a ride,” he offered hopefully.


    Just then, the heel of my shoe slips right between the grate on the sidewalk, snapping it from


    beneath me. Stumbling forward, I hear a car door open quickly and hurried footsteps approaching.


    Nevermind. This night could get so much worse.


    “Here,” he says, stabilizing me gently. “I got you.”


    It’s been six years, and I still had never forgotten the feel of his hands on my body. Heat burned


    throughout every single inch of me. Some was rage. But the rest? That was the left over desire to


    have him. I still was unable to get rid of that.


    As much as I tried to forget about that night and the devastation it brought me, I couldn’t lie to


    myself and say that I hated it. He was too good to be that delusional about it.


    But I wouldn’t let him get me this time. He would not use me like that again.


    I quickly push him off me. “I’m fine,” I snap. “Get off me.”


    It was too much to bear the way he looked at me just then, like he didn’t understand the reason for


    my cold reaction towards him. My chest became tight again.


    “Good luck on your next game,” I whisper hoarsely, kicking off my shoes and sprinting to catch the


    arriving bus just at the corner.


    I make onest nce over my shoulder. He was just standing there. Even from this distance I


    could see the hurt in his eyes.


    But he had hurt me first. I tried not to feel bad. He didn’t deserve my kindness or my forgiveness.


    This was only a sliver of what I wanted him to feel.


    And if I ever run into him again, I hope I’m much more prepared to dig that knife in deeper.


    How was I this unlucky to have run into him on such a bad day? I was not prepared to say my


    piece. There were so many things to say that I had no strength to even begin tonight.


    I am still not ready to open that can of worms. I still have to face my own issues and earn my


    internship status. I still have to be the top tierwyer I have always dreamed about.


    I have too much to deal with to worry about Timothy Hayes now.


    So I went home, heated up a cup of ramen, popped open a bottle of wine, and tried to forget about


    him. It didn’t really work, but at least I tried.


    That was all that mattered.


    Right?


    In the morning, I’d have to keep my head focused on my goals. I’d have no room to still be worried


    about the boy who broke my heart.
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