Page 27 of Date With Skates

“Why, yes I am.” I bat my lashes. “I’m so glad you noticed.”

“Hard not to,” he answers as he pulls his small plate of fries closer. “What about you? What is home like?”

“I have a huge family. We’re always together because we all live in the same neighborhood. No pets. No kids. No boyfriends. Nothing that requires responsibility.”

“Living the free life?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Something like that.”

“What about work?”

“No, I don’t do that.”

“How do you have money to do things?”

“Either by my parents or paid gigs with Nico. I travel with him sometimes to help. Like here. I’m getting a good amount of money for it. Should last me a while, since I don’t do much.”

“And you’re okay living like that?” he asks with raised brows.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“I just… grew up very differently, I guess. I’ve always had to rely on myself.”

“No family?”

Connor hesitates a moment, moving the food around on his plate.

“I bounced around from foster home to foster home until I was ten. That’s when I ended up with my parents, who adopted me at twelve. But at that point, I already had bad habits and notions about families.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say. “I’m sorry if my flippant attitude over money offends you.” I say it sincerely, because I do mean it. I won’t apologize for who I am, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings.

“It wasn’t offensive. Definitely strange, and maybe I’m a little envious of those who have big, loving families, or the ability to rely on others, but…” He shakes his head and doesn’t continue.

“Is that what you want for yourself? Settle down with a bunch of kids? Have a big family?”

“Actually, the thought is terrifying.” He huffs a laugh.

I know exactly what he means.

Chapter Thirteen

Connor

I scan the crowd as we get ready to leave the ice at the end of the first period. Roman mentioned that Nico would be here, and if that’s the case, Étienne will be too—since he’s the hockey fan and apparently has to explain every little thing to Nico, who retains information about hockey like a fish. I’ve never given much thought to people I’d date, because I never look for or want anything serious, but if I did… I’d imagine I’d need them to know at least the basics of the sport. What else would we talk about?

Most of the time my hookups happen because of me playing hockey. Étienne is the perfect example of that. He wanted to fuck me because of who I am. I don’t have an issue hooking up with people because they want me for my fame. I’m still getting laid at the end of the day, so what do I care? Sure, I have to be a little more careful sometimes, and some have required NDAs, but that’s what lawyers are for. I have plenty of money to pay for all that, so it’s not like it’s a problem. I’m living my life, enjoying it, so I don’t see why their reasoning behind sex matters. Sometimes, I think they’re more into it because of who I am, which also works out in my favor. It’s a win-win for me.

There are thousands of people here in the stands, but I don’t find who I am looking for, not even in the smaller athlete section. Maybe they didn’t make it.

We head down the tunnel and into our locker room, where I strip some of my gear off to wipe myself down, have a snack, drink a bunch of water, and listen to our captain, Marshall Hersch from the Pittsburgh Pirates, give us a pep talk while I get geared up again. Before I know it, we’re shuffling down the tunnel and back onto the ice.

Every time Étienne pops into my head, I push the image of him out and don’t give him any more thought. The only things I need to focus on are where that puck is and where my teammates are.

I get slammed into the boards pretty hard by Hartman. The crowd’s oooh can be heard loud and clear. I hardly felt it though, so I keep going, racing to the other side of the ice to help defend my net. I’m in position, watching the puck being passed back and forth between Team Italy’s players as they find the best place to shoot. They rocket it toward the net, and our goalie makes an amazing save, starfishing on the puck until the whistle blows. We congratulate him on a good save, and I head for the benches because I’ve already been on the ice for close to two minutes.

Our game goes well, and we win again. As we celebrate on the ice together as a team, I can’t help but look around the arena again, at all the people on their feet cheering for us. Of course, there are others who wanted Italy to win, and they aren’t happy about them losing, but we have a bunch of support, regardless.