“He's played better today than he has in years,” Britt adds, nodding toward the ice. "But lately? He's been unstoppable. Whatever you're doing, keep doing it.”
Heat creeps up my neck. ”'m not doing anything special.”
“Bullshit,” Sage says, a hint of laughter in her rebuttal. “You're absolutely doing something special. That man is playing like he's got something to prove. Or someone to impress.”
Angelina sighs, watching Holden skate past. “God, I love watching them play. There's something about it, you know? The power, the speed, the way they just own the ice.”
“If they win the Cup, we're all going to lose our minds,” Britt chimes in.
“When they win the Cup,” Angelina corrects her friend. “And when they do, I'm finally going to marry that man. We've only been engaged for six months. I told him that if they bring home the Stanley Cup, I’d marry him during the celebration on the ice if that’s what he wants.”
“That's actually simultaneously romantic and badass,” I say.
“It's insane is what it is,” Angelina laughs, but the truth is all over her face. “I love him. And I love that he loves this game. So I'll do whatever he wants.”
I watch Daemon take a shot and follow the puck fly into the net with a satisfyingthwack. He makes it look effortless, like he could do it in his sleep. Knowing him, he probably could.
“He's really good,” I say quietly, more to myself than to the women beside me.
“He's a legend,” Sage corrects. “This is his last season. He might think he’s old and washed up, but everyone knows that he’s the best player. He's going out on top, and he's taking the whole team with him.”
I turn to face Sage. “You still care about him, don’t you?” Quickly, I add, “I know you love Max, but you still care about Daemon as a person.”
Sage smiles and looks at both men on the ice. “Daemon is the best failed relationship of my life. He convinced me to finally accept that I was in love with my bestie.”
“Bitch,” Angelina snaps at Sage. She points to herself, Britt, and me. “We’re your besties. That man has always been your soulmate. You just refused to acknowledge what everyone else knew.”
“Whatever,” Sage brushes off her friend and shoves her. They all laugh and I join them.
The practice continues, and I lose myself in watching the way Daemon moves on the ice. The way he communicates with his teammates without words, just gestures and glances. The way he pushes himself harder than anyone else on the ice, even though he's the oldest one out there.
I'm so focused on him that I don't notice practice ending until the women around me start gathering their things.
“Are you coming to the game tomorrow night?” Britt asks me as we walk toward the exit.
I nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Awesome. You can sit with us. We have our own section here.” Angelina says, coming up behind us. She squeezes my shoulder in a comforting way. “And please believe me, Gianna. Whatever you're doing, it's working. He's so happy with you. We can all see it.”
Sage is the last to walk past me with a sweet smile on her stunning rocker goddess face. “I would like us to be friends. I’m in love with Maxton, and I’m pretty sure Daemon is in love with you.”
With that, Sage follows after her friends, leaving me alone near the glass. The ice is empty now, and I see the zamboni coming out onto the ice.
I should probably leave, but I'm not ready to go yet. There's something about this place, this world that Daemon lives in, that makes me feel alive. I’m sure it’s nothing like the way he feels here, but it makes me feel closer to him.
“I thought you left without me.”
Startled, I jump before I turn to find Daemon standing at the end of the row. He’s still in his practice gear, and his hair is damp with sweat. He looks tired but satisfied, like he just did exactly what he was meant to do out there.
“And miss the chance to watch you show off?” I smile as I motion to the ice. “Never.”
He takes a few steps in my direction, closing the distance between us. “I saw that you were talking to the girls.”
“Your teammates’ better halves? Yes, I was. They seem nice. They also think I'm some kind of good luck charm.” I shrug, looking at the zamboni as it makes passes over the ice.
“You aremygood luck charm.” He moves, bracing his hands on either side of my head, caging me in against the glass. “I haven’t played as well as I did today in a really long time.”
“Maybe you just really want to bring home that last win,” I whisper, eyes darting back and forth between his.
