“Thanks for understanding,” I say brightly, flashing my biggestisn’t dating fantasticsmile, even though my stomach twists with guilt. “It’s just fun, really. That’s all.”
Daniel leans back in his chair, eyebrows wiggling. “Everyone needs a rebound now and then. Good for you.”
I do need a rebound, and later that night, I slide into one of the suites for the employees so I can watch my rebound play.
10
THE REM-I-NATOR
LAKE
I’m flying down the ice, past the blue line, ready if Riggs passes the puck to me, ready if he doesn’t.
On the ice, I’m ready for anything. Always.
I’m amped up from our early lead, my focus narrowed to the scrape of blades, the chill of the rink, and the action in front of, behind, and around me.
A Phoenix D-man swoops in out of nowhere, trying to cut Riggs off.
Riggs slips the puck to me.
I snag it and cruise behind the net, Ivan flanking me, looming like the beast he is.
Corbin’s calling that he’s open, so I lift the stick, sending it to our center, right as their D-man tries to knock me into the boards.
But I slip away from him, and he barrels toward Ivan, who knocks the guy into the glass. Like he’s sayingstay the hell away from my boys.
Which is precisely what he’s doing.
I fucking love our D-men. They save our asses everynight. Like right now, as our other D-man protects Corbin, who can’t get a good shot.
I race toward the net, where Corbin flicks me the puck again. I wrestle for it, then try once more to sneak it past the Phoenix goalie.
Nope. There’s a snarl by the net, and I just can’t. Back it goes to Corbin, who slams that bad boy in for a goal.
The lamp lights! The crowd goes wild.
And my heart jackhammers. I’m lit up, adrenaline coursing through my veins, excitement flooding my cells.
This, this feeling, this thrill never gets old. It only gets better, and it has ever since?—
But the thought scatters when Ivan thumps me on the back and Corbin knocks fists with me.
Life changes, emotions, and other complicated shit stay behind when I hop over the boards. Glancing up toward the press box, I hunt for a sign ofher.Sometimes she’s there with Daniel. It’s far away, but my eyesight’s better than twenty-twenty, and I catch a hint of lush brown hair and a bright smile.
I give her a chin nod, just in case she can see me, then sink onto the bench.
When I grab my water bottle, Ivan’s cracking up. Loud, boisterous, and directed my way.
I look at him as I down some H2O. He doesn’t stop laughing.
“What the fuck?” I ask him.
He waves his stick at the press box. “What’s up with you and the Rem-i-nator?”
I cringe. “Is that what you call her?”
“Yes, because she’s fierce. It’s fitting. Answer the question.”
