“Is he okay?” Logan asked the first time it happened.
I laughed. “Dec can take a hit. He’s fine.”
By the end of the first period, the Blizzards were winning two to one, with Dec scoring one of the goals. I went to get Logan a drink while we had a small break, and by the time I got back, he was chatting happily with some of the ladies in the same section as us, Rosie and Tuccini’s mother included. They looked ready to kidnap Logan and keep him, not that I blamed them.
The second period started with a fight, and it wasn’t a surprise that Tuccini, or Merc as the fans called him, ended up being the one to start the brawl. He had a temper, and one wrong move from the opponent triggered his anger. Dec had told me on more than one occasion they’d lost games because of him.
“What happened?” Logan asked, shifting side to side in his seat as though trying to see everything on the ice all at once. I didn’t blame him. Dec was trying to pull Tuccini off the opposing player and a fist landed on his jaw. Logan gasped, and I cringed when Dec went down on the ice. He got right back up, though, and nearly all the players were fighting until the referee and linesmen pulled them off one another and blew their whistles.
The crowd was going crazy, yelling and cheering on the men until the players were forcibly yanked away from one another. An ad went across the big screen hanging from the roof in the middle of the rink.
“This fight was sponsored by Columbus Oil and Tires. Oil changes for only. . . .”
I shook my head with a snort. “I’ve never heard of a fight being sponsored.”
“What happens now?” Logan asked urgently. “Will a med team look at him?”
I chuckled. “He’s fine, babe. He’s been in brawls before. Why do you think he has gold teeth in the back of his mouth and we call him Your Highness? Hockey players usually end up with missing teeth. The game is brutal.”
“Oh.” His shoulders relaxed and he smiled at me. “Sorry. Am I being annoying?”
I shook my head and held his chin while I laid a kiss on his lips. “No, you’re not. I was like you when I first went to one of his games.”
“Me too,” Rosie piped in with a giggle. “It was terrifying. Zak milked it for weeks, asking for back massages becausehis body was sore.”
Logan and I laughed, and she rolled her eyes.
The commentator told the crowd that the Columbus team had a power play, and Tuccini was heading into the penalty box.
“What does that mean?” Logan asked quietly, blushing. I slid my hand into his and squeezed his long, thin fingers.
“Don’t be embarrassed about asking. Usually the player who starts a fight gets a major penalty, and they go into what they call a power play. Tuccini goes into the penalty box and the Blizzards play with a man down. He’s in there for”—I turned to Rosie—“is it ten minutes?”
She hummed. “No, it’s five. Ten is for a misconduct penalty.”
“He’s in there for five minutes. That’s the time of the power play. So Columbus tries really hard to get a goal in that time. If it was a minor infraction and they scored during the two-minute penalty, Tuccini would be able to come out, but because it’s a major one, he has to serve the whole five minutes no matter what. The Blizzards will have to hold them off during that time with one man down.”
“That’s not fair.” Logan pouted and glared at the penalty box, which happened to be near us. Tuccini was already in there, resting his head on the glass behind him. He’d taken off his helmet and his wet hair stuck to his thick skull.
“That’s the game,” I said with a laugh.
“My boy is a hothead,” Tuccini’s mother said with a sigh. “But the fans love him that way. He has to get into some kind of fight every game.”
“He’s a good player, too,” I admitted. As much as Dec complained about Tuccini’s temper, he always said Merc was a genius at hockey. He defended his teammates when he needed to, and he’d be the first one to have their back.
The five minutes went by fast, and the Blizzard boys ended up keeping the Columbus team from scoring. When the penalty time buzzed out, Tuccini was back on the ice fast. The second period went quickly, and our team got another goal, thanks to a player I didn’t know. Coach switched and changed the team when he could, and right now Dec was on the bench, enjoying a drink of water.
Third period was the most intense, and I took the time to explain to Logan what was happening. From offsides to the puck being iced, I told him what it meant. He looked like he was enjoying the experience, a smile not leaving his mouth the entirety of the last period until the buzzer went off.
We won by two points, the game ending up three to one for the Blizzards. We cheered with the rest of the fans as the boys celebrated on the ice, slapping one another’s backs and clapping their gloved hands. Dec skated toward us and took off one of his gloves, placing his palm against the glass. I placed mine on the other side, but Logan didn’t move, so I urged him forward. He laid his hand beside mine and smiled.
Dec gave us an air smooch before he was off again, making his way back to his teammates.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be here.” Logan’s deep, sad voice surprised me, and I sent him a frown.
“Why?” I slid my fingers through his again and pulled him down to the seat even though other people in our section were leaving. Rosie leaned down to give me a kiss on the cheek before she shuffled her way behind the rest of the crowd.
“I don’t want to make trouble for you or Dec.”
