“Yeah.” He rolls his eyes. “A guy who does fireworks. You know? Those things that gokaboomin the sky and send pretty, sparkly lights raining down?”
“I know what fireworks are. I just don’t understand why you’d think I, of all people, would ever have a fucking firework guy on call.”
“No need to be snappy about it,” he huffs as we head into the tunnel. “It was just a question.”
I take a long swig of my water and wipe my face with my sleeve. “Well, the answer is no, I don’t have a firework guy.”
He swears under his breath. “Okay. Then do you have a plan for how we’re going to win Maya back?”
I arch a brow, even as my heart rate ticks up. “We?”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “We’re teammates, aren’t we?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
maya
My body vibratesagainst the plastic stadium seating as the first game of the playoff season begins. My nerves have nothing to do with how the Bobcats will play. I have no doubt they’ll kick ass. It’s because, in eighteen minutes and thirty-four seconds, it’ll be me on that ice instead of the players.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kennedy asks for the tenth time since she showed up at my apartment to ride with me to the arena. “You have the coordination of a baby with vertigo and bruise like a ripe banana.”
My head spins just a little. “I’m absolutely not sure that this is a good idea.”
“Is it too late to back out? I feel like a sloppy blowjob could be just as effective. And possibly even more appreciated.”
The older couple in front of us turns around in abject horror, and I cover my face with my hands. But rather than sink into her seat with embarrassment, Kennedy tosses a handful of popcorn into her mouth and smiles daringly at them.
“You’ll be fine,” Sophie reassures me with a broad smile. “The ice won’t be as slippery after it gets chewed up by skates. Just walk like a penguin.”
Kennedy, who’s already focused on the game again, turns our way. “Isn’t the phrasewalk like an Egyptian?”
Sophie sits straighter, making her plastic chair creak. “You don’t know the penguin song?”
Kennedy and I exchange a confused look.The penguin song?“Definitely not.”
“When things look kind of icy, and the path ahead is dicey,” she sings, “walk like a penguin. Keep your toes pointed straight, and short steps for your gait. Walk like a penguin.” Shaking out her arms, she goes on. “Make sure your limbs are loose, so you don’t fall on your caboose… and walk like a penguin.”
For a moment, Kennedy and I look at her in stunned silence, but in perfect synchronicity, we burst into laughter. And not simple “ha ha, funny” laughter. No, it’s shoulder-shaking, uncontrollable, thigh-slapping laughter that continues until tears stream down our faces.
“Oh God, Sophie,” Kennedy gasps, swiping at her eyes. “Who taught you that?”
“I took skating lessons as a kid,” she huffs. “You’ll be thanking me when it stops you from falling on your butt.”
I bump my shoulder against hers. “You mean my caboose, right?”
She narrows her eyes at me, but when the crowd breaks into cheers, she whips around and scans the ice.
The Jumbotron lights up, andBerrett Scoresflashes in capital letters. All around us, fans yell like their lives depend on it. I don’t know how athletes can play in such a noisy setting. My stage fright could never.
I force my body to face the ice so I don’t miss anything else and let myself get lost in the excitement of the game. As expected, the Bobcats dominate the first period. Whatever they ate for breakfast was clearly packed with a serving of kick-ass-and-take-names, becausedamn. Even Logan is on his best behavior. Could be a tactic, and if so, it’s working. Since the first puck drop, the opposing team has seemed confused by his lack of asinine comments and fighting.
A few minutes before the period ends, Sophie and Kennedy walk with me to the area behind the Bobcats’ goal. A group of young teenage boys are gathered nearby, roughhousing and laughing.
As I take them in, it dawns on me that they’re likely the other game contestants. “I think I’m the only one?—”
“With tits?” Kennedy snorts. “I was thinking the same thing.”
I scan the space, desperately searching for an elderly lady or middle-aged man. “Are we in the right spot?”
