Page 62
Ronda leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. She looks unamused. “You mean Mitch Anderson? The grumpy athlete who never smiles and who’s…what were your words… totally not your type?”
I sigh heavily. “Okay, I lied. He totally is my type. And tomorrow’s his first game back after his suspension.”
She looks at me through narrowed eyes. “Fine. But only because he’s helped Noah so much. But mark my words, if he hurts you…”
“I know, I know. A slow, painful death.”
She nods her head slowly… It's actually pretty creepy.
“Thank you!” I wrap my arms around her in a giant hug. “Mitch is a good guy, I swear.”
She swats at me. “Okay, enough, get back to work.”
Giving her a big kiss on the cheek, I pull back, grinning from ear to ear. She smiles back at me. “It is nice to see you so happy.”
“The big man will grow on you, I just know it.”
* * *
“But I want to go to the game!” Noah argues as I'm trying to leave. He’s dressed in all of his finest Eagles gear, as if that’ll cause me to give in to his whining.
“Noah, you’re staying here with Ronda,” I say, for what feels like the hundredth time.
He throws his hands up. “But you don’t even know anything about hockey.”
Ronda, who’s leaning against the wall near the front door, quirks a brow like she’s silently agreeing with him on that point.
“I’m not going to watch hockey, I’m going to watch Mitch.”
“I knew you had a crush on him.” Noah rolls his eyes.
“Yep, you were right. Now let me go swoon over your coach, you wouldn’t want to see that anyway.”
His face twists in disgust. “That’s a good point.”
“Come on, buddy. I brought brownies and we can watch the game on the T.V.” Ronda sweeps an arm around his slim shoulders and he concedes with a heavy sigh.
“Okay, fine. But I get to come to the next game.”
“Deal,” I tell him, leaving through the front door before he changes his mind.
* * *
When I arrive at my seat with my huge bucket of popcorn, I see a pretty brown-haired woman in the seat beside my own. She has the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen and she’s wearing an Eagles jersey just like mine, but the number on hers is different. She shoots me a friendly smile and stands up. “Hey! Are you Andie?”
“Yep, that’s me,” I answer.
She pulls me into a hug then introduces herself. “I’m Melanie, you can call me Mel. I’m West’s fiancée.”
“Oh! The blond guy?”
She laughs again. “Yep, that’s him.”
We sit down in our seats, which are in the stands this time and not the fancy box. I glance around us, noticing the girls right in front of us are all wearing Weston Kershaw jerseys. “Is it super annoying being with someone so popular with the ladies?” I whisper.
She side-eyes the girls in front of us. “A little. But they don’t really know him. And he doesn’t pay attention to them. Trust me, if they knew he spends half of his freetime playing NHL on the Xbox, or how he never puts his socks in the dirty laundry basket, they’d realize he's just another normal, sometimes irritating, man.”
“Good point.”
