Ida Jane wiped her fingers on a napkin, leaned forward and cupped her hands before she shouted, “Bust some butts, baby!”
We all giggled, but it only took three plays where I struggled to keep an eye on the puck—it moved so much faster on the ice in real time somehow—before Maxim moved in and started pummeling a guy who’d whacked Naese with his hockey stick.
“That’s called high-sticking,” Hana said from my side.
I knew that, but I nodded because I was too intent on watching the action to speak.
“And it’s a penalty, but the boys don’t like it, so they pound the offender,” Lola added from my other side.
I nodded again. “I know. I watched this whole season. This is way more intense than watching on television.”
“It is,” Lola agreed. “But I love it because my boy loves it.”
“Takes some getting used to,” Ida Jane said. “I used to peek through my hands during my first season.”
That I could understand. I clasped my hands, and my knees bounced. My heart slid up into my throat when Lennon accepted the puck with his stick and moved with grace toward the opposing team’s net. He flicked his stick, sending the puck forward, right before the opposing players flew around him.
My nerves grew tauter in the last period as Cruz body slammed a player into the boards and the puck slipped out. Hana gripped my arm as she raised her other hand. “Come on, Pax. You got this. You got this… Nice pass.”
We all rose to our feet and cheered when Luka Stol slid the puck in under the goalie’s pads.
Ida Jane sat back and fanned her face. “This game is not for the faint of heart.”
“It’s raw,” Hana said. She shot me a side-eye and a smirk. “That’s why I love it.”
I laughed, and some of the tension left my shoulders. “I think I need another glass of wine.”
“You got it,” Ida Jane said. She brought back fresh drinks for us all, and we sipped and snacked, keeping an eye on the game.”
“So…” Hana said. “When are you and Lennon going on a date?”
I hesitated.
“Oh, yes! Do tell.”
“We went for a run with Belladonna.”
“And after that, they had a passionate embrace in the elevator,” Lola said, waggling her eyebrows.
I gasped. “How…”
Lola smiled. “Vivian Rodriguez is a friend of mine.”
“I think everyone is a friend of yours,” I said.
Lola smiled. “Close. There are a few people in the city I haven’t met.”
“Was it a good kiss?” Hana asked quietly. She leaned her head against my shoulder. This affectionate version of my friend was something new, something I needed to get used to, but something I definitely liked.
I stared down at Lennon on the ice as he skated toward the puck. I couldn’t see his expression, but I knew it was one of intense concentration—like the way he focused on me. We’d made out for a good hour before the intensity had gotten to us. After showing me around his place, we’d gone back to his mother’s, where he’d left me after a chaste kiss on the cheek.
“It was intense.” I inhaled. “So intense. I can’t wait to do it again.”
“How about tonight and then again tomorrow?” Lola said.
“Dang, Lola. You got this wing-woman thing down,” Ida Jane said.
“Only because I like Vivian.” Lola sniffed.
