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A chorus of “Awww” arose as Oliver spied a grainy colour photo of a little girl wearing a wild-eyed grin and a blue and white jersey. On her left sat an adult in a matching sweater, his hands full with a small soft drink, a floppy moose, and a Leafs pennant, its flag crisp and unfurled.

Georgie laughed. “That’s me, Dad, and my stuffy Marley at my first game. I was full of popcorn and had completely lost my voice from screaming.”

“Some things never change, then,” murmured Kaitlin with a grin.

Oliver gave Georgie a quick glance. “You look beside yourself with happiness.”

“I was! Best day ever!” She bounced in her seat as Leesa lowered the photo album and flipped to the next page. “I finally got to wear the jersey Mum made to a game with Dad. Back then, it wasn’t easy to find a tiny Leafs shirt, so she bought a plain blue hockey sweater and sewed a Leafs patch on the front and felt number tens on the sleeves and back.”

“Why ten?” asked Oliver.

“George Armstrong wore ten back then. He was our captain. I was named after him.”

Leesa browsed through the old photos. “Did they win that night?”

“Crushed Chicago 5-1,” said Georgie. “Hopefully, we’ll beat ’em again tonight.”

“Maybe you should break out that jersey again.” Kaitlin wedged a donut hole between her lips.

“If only. It’s long gone.” She smiled wistfully as if revisiting a memory. “I used to wear it everywhere. Even slept in it.”

“Does your dad still come along with you?” asked Oliver.

Her grin loosened. “Uh, no, he passed away in a car accident when I was eight. He left me his season tickets.”

A deep ached stirred inside Oliver’s chest. Instinctively, he reached for her arm, but then he thought better of it and pretended to pluck nonexistent lint from the shoulder of his sweater instead. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. It’s been twenty-two years now, but not a day goes by when I don’t miss him.” She glanced downward and flattened the rolled-up hem of her Leafs hoodie.

“I think about you and him a lot,” said Leesa. “It must’ve been tough growing up without a dad.”

Georgie looked up, nudging her hair away from her eyes. “Yeah. You kinda think they’ll be there for all the big moments: graduation, first job, first apartment. It hurts when they’re not. But I have eight years of happy memories, so I’m lucky.”

Luckier than Oliver. He nodded pensively.

“I often wonder what he’d make of our team now, all the ups and downs we’ve had,” said Georgie. “I can still hear him in my head sometimes, saying, ‘If you’re gonna be a fan, you have to grow a thick skin, ’cause when they’re not winning, they’re breaking your heart.’”

“Truer words…” Kaitlin’s nod was followed by Leesa’s.

“So I guess you don’t go when they’re losing?” asked Oliver.

“I do!” Georgie’s pointed tone implied, ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ She picked up her tea. “I go to every regular season and playoff game. I practically live here.”

Never missing a game, being “married” to the team, having a hockey namesake? Oliver scratched his temple. Georgie was even more hardcore than he’d originally thought. If she were anyone else, someone he wasn’t relying on for a professional safety net, he’d probably make his excuses and never see her again.

But another reason kept him glued to that squeaky folding chair.

Oliver fancied her like he’d never fancied anyone before, but that was about as far as his fascination could ever go. He could never speak of it, especially to Georgie. Sharing what was in his head could easily destroy their working relationship, not to mention embarrass him to no end when his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

And even if the impossible happened and she did have feelings for him, a romantic relationship couldn’t flourish. Oliver knew better than anyone: once you let someone in, they eventually hurt you and leave. That’s why he never let anyone get too close and only satisfied his sexual desires with the occasional brief fling. It was safer and healthier—emotionally and mentally—to keep some semblance of distance for when the inevitable happened.

And it always happened.

He’d also come to Toronto with one purpose, and once that was fulfilled, he’d be flying back to London. Tying himself to Canada was never part of his plan.

But then Georgie flashed that smile he couldn’t get enough of, and his heart did another sneaky somersault. What is happening to me?

“That being said, Oliver,” she continued, unrolling the lipstick-stained rim of her Tim Hortons cup. “You’ll always know where to find me.” She squinted at whatever was printed on the unfolded paper rim and a flicker of a frown came and went. “Even when the team’s playing away, I’m just a hop, skip, and a jump down the street from you, watching at McNally’s.”