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“So, you don’t find him attractive?” Aaron pushes the subject.
“He’s attractive, but I need more than looks. The guy has a mountain guarding him, and he refuses to let anyone in. Also, stubborn, cold men are typically lousy lovers.”
Aaron cracks a smile, like he’s trying to hide something. “Says who? Actually, don’t answer that. You don’t have sex.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Zoe, we’re not having this conversation.”
“Grow up, Aaron. Your sister likes sex. Get over it.”
The song fades out as the referees glide onto the ice. One of them is holding a puck as players take their spots like pieces on a chessboard. The puck drops, and everyone bursts into action. Red and white players soar across the ice with grace and speed, each one expertly moving their bodies in a dance that seems both tousled and perfectly choreographed.
The crowd continues to go wild, energy crackling heavily around us, and I allow myself to get lost in all of it. I really thought I would hate being here. That it would bore me enough to want to read a book on my phone, but to be honest, I’m enjoying myself a lot more than I imagined I would. We’re sitting so close to all the action that the smacking of hockey sticks against the boards is louder than the music and crowd combined.
My head ping-pongs back and forth as I try to keep up, but I finally give up and focus on Number Seventeen. I’m enthralled, watching him dominate the game and glide along the ice as if he’s part of the rink, sketched from the ice itself. He’s a magician, mesmerizing everyone as he weaves in and out with ease, making it look so effortless.
“He’s amazing,” I sigh, a little surprised to hear the admiration in my own voice.
“I know. He was always meant to be a hockey player. I realized that the first time I watched him play. It’s in his blood.”
I wonder what it’s like to be so utterly passionate about something that your entire body and soul call out to it. That when you’re engrossed in the work, it makes you come alive in a way nothing else ever could. The only time I’ve come close to feeling anything remotely similar to that was when I got the chance to design a building in architecture class in college. I got lost in the process. It didn’t even feel like work. But I guess I never wanted it bad enough, because it slipped right through my fingers. That level of true passion can’t fade away, because those it captures are bound to it forever. Isn’t that what they say about artists too?
I see it in Dom with hockey. With my brother and the empire he’s built for himself. Some people have so much passion that they never work a single day in their lives. What would it be like to wake up every day and be excited to go to work because you love what you do? But then again, is it safe to love anything in life? Because what if your dreams don’t pan out? What if I pour my heart and soul into something only for it to be shoved aside? I could lose everything, including myself, all over again.
It would be better to never feel it than to have it and lose it. I’m a chaser, working for money and aimlessly walking around looking for pieces of myself in the dark. I’m okay with that, with being a ghost until my time runs out.
Aaron shoots forward in his seat, nudging me with his knee. “Here he goes!”
I zero in on Dominik, who has the puck. He races across the ice, his body moving at a blurring speed as he breaks free, cocking his stick back and sending the puck flying past the goalie right into the net. The New York crowd is on their feet and going wild. His teammates skate his way, throwing themselves at him and embracing him.
As the excitement dies down, Dom skates close to the bench. His wild eyes find mine. I have the biggest fucking smile on my face, and he’s grinning back at me.
CHAPTER 33
ZOE
“Ihave to head to the office for twenty minutes. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“To your work on a Saturday night? I’m good, thanks. I’ll just see you at home.”
Aaron’s hand is on my shoulder as we walk down the hallway the players disappeared into after the game.
The Slashers won 4-2 against the Gladiators. The entire arena lost their shit, throwing shirts, hats, and stuffed animals onto the ice. The boys weren’t bothered though. They were all in a great mood after a win like that.
Dominik and I planned to meet outside the locker room after the game so he can introduce me to the team. A few other women, presumably girlfriends or wives, already made their way down the hall earlier. I wish Aaron would stay since I don’t know anyone here and I’d rather not do this alone, but it would be weird for my brother to hold my hand through this.
“Are you sure?” Aaron asks reassuringly.
“Yes. I have to stay. I need to say hi to Dom, congratulate him…maybe offer him an awkward girlfriend hug.”
Aaron’s brows furrow. “Do you want me to stay to make sure everything goes well?”
Shaking my head, I nudge him toward the back door. “No, you’re fine. I’ll see you at home.”
Right at that moment, Aaron’s phone rings, and he curses under his breath.
“All right. I’ll see you later.”
