“Hello? Are you here?”
“Sorry.”
“Is this what you’re gonna be like if you keep this up?”
Aiden slid the puck to the wing and continued through the slot. The return pass never came. A Calgary stick knocked it away and sent the play back the other direction.
Ramona studied me. “Admit it. We’re here for him.”
“We’re here because I wanted to get out of the house,” I said without looking at her. Aiden was pushing to get another play, and I didn’t want to miss it in case it worked out this time.
“For him.”
“For hockey.”
“Him,” Ramona said more firmly than before, and it got my attention.
“Why can’t it be both?”
The noise in the arena rose again, and my gaze flicked toward the ice while the Surge regrouped along the boards. A Surge defenseman fired a long pass down the rink. One of the wingers chased it into the corner while Aiden circled behind the net, looking for space.
“I know I probably sound like a dick right now, but I just care about you,” Ramona said then, her tone softening.
“He’s not what you think.”
Ramona lifted a brow. “Enlighten me.”
“He’s been stuck on that bench for years. Second line center on a team that treats him like spare parts. He’s not chasing some huge career.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself, not me.”
I hated the way that felt to hear. Too brazen. Too accurate. “He’s not a star.”
“Your rule doesn’t single out stars, just pro athletes.”
The puck popped loose near the crease and one of the Surge forwards slammed it into the net.
The horn blasted across the arena, and our entire section jumped to its feet.
I clapped before I realized I was doing it.
Ramona stayed seated and looked up at me with a knowing smile. “We’re cheering now?”
“They scored.”
“Someone scored, I know.” And when I tore my eyes from the ice, she wore a smirk that sent chills through me. “Big Rich found your underwear in the van, by the way.”
My stomach dropped. “What?”
“He wanted to keep it,” she said. “For his lonely nights, like he put it. But I forced him to give it to me, so they’re freshly laundered back at my place. You’re welcome, and also, you’re an idiot.”
On the ice, the Surge players gathered near the boards, tapping helmets before they skated back to their positions. Aiden circled past the group on his way toward the bench. His head turned just enough for our eyes to meet through the glass.
Ramona caught the exchange and leaned closer. “I’m your best friend, and I want you to be happy, so I won’t go on like a broken record. This is the last time you’ll hear it from me: Stay away from him.”
I watched while the next line prepared to jump onto the ice.
“He’s not my dad,” I said. “And he’s not my brother either. He’s just a guy who plays second line center and has spent his career warming that bench.”
