Elliot waited for me before going to the game. By the time I’m back and have scrubbed the smell of formaldehyde off my skin and changed into Cooper’s jersey, we make it right as the game starts.
We’re sitting across from the benches, along the boards. We both kick our feet up, and Elliot balances a container of popcorn between her knees.
“Isn’t this the team Jordan’s ex plays for?” she asks, pouring an entire king-sized package of peanut M&Ms into the extra buttered container.
“Unfortunately.”
It’s a good thing the girls’ team is away—they have one more week in their season—otherwise Jordan would be dressed up as her brother, and finding a way to play tonight just to fight the guy.
“Which one is he?”
Both teams are starting to reemerge from the tunnels. University of Minnesota skates a lap, and I keep my eyes peeled for him. He’s the last to skate onto the ice.
“There.” I point discreetly to number fifty-two.
When he skates by us, Elliot throws popcorn at the glass and boos.
“Elliot, stop.” I playfully swat at her, grabbing a handful of popcorn while I’m at it.
Luka glares through his visor over at us. I know he recognizes me when he stops sharply and skates backwards to us.
“Sutton Davis.”
“Luka Valentini.”
“It’s been a few years since I’ve seen you near the ice. Two, three years?”
“Two. Thanks for the reminder.” I force a grin.
“And who are you?” He shifts his attention away from taunting me with information he already knows, a part of my life he was adjacent to by association, to Elliot.
“She’s none of your business.” Two players in Kelly green skate up on either side of him. Stopping quickly, Chase’s stick hits the glass. Cooper is on the other side, close enough to Luka without it being threatening for penalty time.
“Carmichael.”
“Valentini.” Cooper rolls his shoulders back. His jaw is tight, skin stretched across it. It doesn’t matter that Jordan was the one to break up with Luka; Cooper still can’t stand him.
The atmosphere between them is at least amicable, neither willing to risk the game, especially Luka. Minnesota has to win to make it to the NCAA tournament. Their season isn’t good enough to get an at-large bid.
That is, till Jaxon shows up. Skating by Luka, he nicks his shoulder before turning to stop in front of his face.
“What the fuck are you doing over here? Get back on your side, bellini.”
Cooper breaks them up. Dragging Jaxon away by the navy and white striped collar and back to where some of the team is stretching.
“Isn’t a bellini a drink?” Elliot leans over, stealing my bag of gummy candies. “He might want to work on his insults.”
“Luka is kind of fruity. I like it.”
Luka skates away, and Jaxon tracks the movement, keeping a carefully sharp eye on him.
The first line is taking their places. Jaxon in the face-off. Cooper’s on our side and moves slowly before getting into position, skating by us again. Against the glass, he makes a heart with his bulky gloves. He does this before every period.
I blow him a kiss. He catches it and drags it over his heart. Cooper skates up to the outskirts of the circle.
The puck drops, and we win the face-off, passing to Cooper. He’s fast, zipping up the left side before cutting in toward the goal. He fakes out the defenseman before gently pushing the puck between the guy’s skates and passing to our right winger. Two people are on him as he maneuvers behind the net.
Minnesota’s goalie blocks their shot.
