“I can tell. But I’d be excited, too, if I got to do training camp in Portugal.”
I’m about to talk some more about the trip, but I remember we’re supposed to be ending the call. “Sorry. I’m keeping you longer on the phone.”
“I don’t mind,” Aiden says softly.
I wish I could control how my heart reacts to his expressions or change in voice. Because it’s fluttering again right now.
I clear my throat. “But yes, I love hockey, I try to go to as many games as I can.”
“So you’ll be there tomorrow night?”
I hadn’t made any definite plans to go to the game, but when I look at Aiden, I already know what I’m doing tomorrow night.
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
Aiden’s eyes meet mine. “Good. It will be nice to have a familiar face in the crowd.”
A shiver races down my spine from the way he’s looking at me.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Yeah,” Aiden says. “Good night, Scarlett.”
God, I love the way my name sounds coming from his lips.
I say good night and hang up. I draw a breath of air, my head and heart engaged in a battle over Aiden.
I’m already getting into a dangerous situation. Yes, I’m going to the game as a friend. My head knows that.
But my heart is going as someone who now has a huge crush on Aiden.
UGH. I put my head in my hands. I’m being so stupid right now. Nothing will ever come of this.
Aiden told me that himself tonight. He not only plays for my dad, but he’s the alternate captain. He will never ask me out.
Yet my heart is overruling my head and putting me in these situations that will only hurt me in the end.
Why? Why am I doing this to myself?
I drop my hands from my face. I know why. I’m doing it because I like him.
It’s stupid and reckless. Yet my heart doesn’t care. I want these moments with Aiden.
And I will take them however I can get them.
Starting tomorrow night at the Miami Manatees game.
Chapter Seven
“Hello, Scarlett! How are you doing this evening?”
I smile at Destiny, who is doing the employee security check in at the Premier Airlines Arena tonight. I show my ID, then grab a pen to sign in. While I’m not an employee of the Miami Manatees, I access the arena through the staff gate because I’m Coach Rivershon’s daughter and I have a credential.
“I’m good,” I say. “I love the braids, by the way.”
Destiny pats her black hair. “Thank you. I needed something new.”
“Well, it looks beautiful,” I say, setting down the pen.
