I shouldn’t be so enamored with him. But I am.
And that is very,verybad.
Even though it feels like so much more than that one simple word. It doesn’t carry the true weight of what we mean to one another.
“Have fun and tell Troy I said hi! And give Marcus a kiss for me!”
“Not happening, you nerd!” I grab my purse from the counter and turn to leave. “Bye, Harper! Don’t wait up.”
“Oh, I won’t.”
Bypassing my car for the night, I wait for the bus to take me to the arena. I’m stressed enough as it is. I don’t need to add waiting in traffic to the list.
A packed bus pulls up. San Diego is known for its hockey program. Players from all across the country want to play here. I cram my way on as we pull out toward the arena.
The closer we get, the more my nerves start to amp up. It’s not that I don’t like hockey. I do. But Kyle turned me off of the sport when he left me high and dry.
And because I know Kyle is here, I’m nervous.
It’s hard to support a game when one person made you hate it.
I’ll do whatever I can do support Troy, though. Because he’s worth it.
The bus pulls up to the arena and students spill out. Even outside, the tension is palpable.
Boston and SDU are two of the top teams in the country. And I want nothing more than for the Sand Sharks to pull out a win.
I follow everyone inside, getting my ticket scanned and finding my seat.
I give a warm smile to the older couple sitting next to me. Most college students sit in the upper deck, but seeing as how Troy got me this ticket, I’m close to the glass.
“Hi.” The older woman smiles up at me.
“Hi.” I drop into the seat next to her, my gaze focusing on the ice below.
Swarms of red and white cover the arena. Energy is pulsing in the rink as the team is on the ice warming up.
I spy #22 on the ice. Troy makes this look easy. He’s flying over the ice, deftly handling the puck with his stick.
It shouldn’t be as sexy as it is—watching him play this game. But he’s good. There’s a reason he was recruited out of high school.
Something my ex never was. If only I could tell him that.
Troy skates over to where I’m sitting. Flipping his visor up, he gives me a wave before looking at the people next to him. Heat blooms on my cheeks.
I haven’t felt this way in so long. I love that even when he’s on the ice, he’s giving me attention.
My wave back is shy before he’s off to continue warm-up.
“Oh my God. Are you Angie?” the woman next to me asks.
“I am.”
A smile lights up her face, deepening the lines around her eyes. I don’t even need to hear what she says next to know who this is.
“We’ve heard so much about you. I’m Sutton, Troy’s mother.”
Oh no. Oh no, no, no.
