“What’s so absurd about wanting to take you on a date?”
She finally quit fidgeting with her clothes long enough to look at me. “Need I remind you we’ve tried this before?”
“We didn’t try anything,” I said, pulling on my t-shirt. The voices were getting closer, and I didn’t want to get caught half-naked back here. It also injected some urgency into this latest development. “We hooked up, then someone panicked and put an end to things before they’d even started.”
“For the record—” Sage pointed at me, managing to look intimidating despite the awkward space. “—I don’t panic. And second of all, what makes you think I want to date you?”
“You were the one who brought up a next time,” I said. “That implies future planning. Which, in turn, implies an extended spending of time. Together.”
“Ugh, can you never just let something be without making it something else?”
“Can you just let me take you out on a date?”
“Fine. Jesus. I’ll go on a stupid date with you.”
We stared at each other, vaguely aware that something had shifted between us. Sage had clearly surprised herself with that outburst. I was the only one to smile.
16
Sage
Cold air poured down from somewhere high in the arena and settled over the rows of seats, carrying the scent of popcorn and beer and that faint metallic chill that always clung to ice rinks. Frost Bank glowed bright enough to make the white sheet of ice look almost unreal, a giant polished surface ringed by boards plastered with ads that probably cost more than my car.
Ramona shifted beside me, tugging her jacket tighter around her shoulders. “Remind me again why we’re here instead of some place cool.”
On the ice, two clusters of players circled each other while the referees got into position. The crowd around us buzzed with the low anticipation that came right before something started, everyone settling into their seats with plastic cups and baskets of fries. Surprisingly, Calgary Flames had a huge turnout for an away game.
I didn’t know much, but I knew that meant we were in for a treat.
“This is cool,” I said, resting my forearms on the railing in front of us.
Ramona stared at me. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
“It’s just a game.” I rolled my eyes, absently swirling my beer in its solo cup. “Relax and enjoy it. Easy.”
She leaned closer, squinting at the ice. “They all look the same.”
“They’re literally wearing different color jerseys.”
Ramona followed my gaze. “Which color are we rooting for?”
“How the hell are you local and you don’t know The Surge is in blue and white?”
A horn blared overhead before she could respond. The sound cut through the arena and the crowd surged with it, thousands of voices rising as the puck hit the ice and the players exploded into motion.
My eyes found the bench before I even realized I was looking for him.
Aiden sat halfway down the line, helmet on, gloves resting across the top of the boards while he watched the play develop. He looked different here than he did anywhere else. Focused. Contained. The kind of stillness that only lasted until the coach tapped his shoulder and sent him out onto the ice.
The puck shot across the rink in a blur. One player scooped it up, passed it to another, then someone in a red jersey stepped in and stole it.
The entire section around us groaned.
“What happened?” Ramona asked, looking alarmed.
“No idea.”
She crossed her arms and slumped back in her seat. “So neither of us have any idea what’s going on, but we’re here.”
