“Nah, you want to be a D man like Hayden Monroe. You’re good, kid. Really good.”
His smile widens as he gazes at me, his cheeks still rosy.
“Thank you,” he forces out.
“Come on, let’s see if we can find any hot girls.”
“Whoa,” he teases. “All the girls in there are related to our teammates.”
Not all of them. I know for a fact that one isn’t, although that doesn’t make her any less forbidden.
The instant I step inside, I see her. It’s like no one else in the room exists. She shines like the brightest of stars. With my eyes locked on her, I make my way over.
A few people try to stop me on the way, congratulating me on the game, but I don’t linger. I have my sights set, and nothing will stop me from getting there.
“Hey,” I breathe as I step up to the father–daughter duo.
She smiles up at me, and my heart rate picks up.
“Great game tonight,” she says, and despite having heard it a number of times now, this is the only time it actually means anything.
“It really was fantastic,” a deeper voice says before a hand is thrust in front of me, distracting me from Freya.
“Hi, I’m such a huge fan,” her dad says. I swear his hand is trembling.
“It’s so great to finally meet you, Mr. Price. Freya has told me so much about you.”
“Oh, please, call me Brian,” he says, enthusiastically shaking my hand. “It’s such an honor.”
“Did you enjoy the game?” I ask, my hand still clasped in his.
“Oh yes, and the seats were incredible. Thank you so much. You played a fantastic game. You should have heardthis one shouting and screaming for you,” he says, elbowing Freya teasingly. “Anyone would think she knew what she was watching.”
“Dad,” she complains.
“She’s watched hockey with me all these years and barely paid attention. Now look at her. She’s learning all the lingo. Even knows which way we’re meant to be shooting.”
I glance at Freya and take in her bright-red cheeks.
“Stop, please,” she begs, making Brian chuckle.
“Okay, okay, sorry,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I have to thank you though,” he continues, his voice much more serious all of a sudden. “I don’t think you understand how much Freya’s new job means to her.”
“Dad, really?” the woman in question complains.
“Yes, seriously. Her mom and I haven’t seen her smile like she has in the last few weeks for the best part of a year. You’ve given her a new lease on life, and we’ll forever be grateful.”
“I need a drink,” Freya mutters under her breath.
“What would you like?” I ask, more than willing to get one for her and give her a reprieve from her father.
“I’m driving. I’m not sure a soda is going to help me right now.”
“I can take you?—”
“No,” Freya says in a rush, her eyes widening in surprise when she registers just how forceful the word comes out. “You’ve had a long night; you don’t need to be driving us home.”
I glance at Brian, unsurprisingly finding a disappointed expression on his face.
