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I was a little late getting here, so I missed the team warming up, but that might be for the best. Because this seat is… right here.
I take a sip of my liquid courage and try to relax.
Luke asked me to come, so it’s not like I’m being a weird clinger by being here. And when I looked up tickets and saw this single one up for resale, it seemed perfect. So I bought it. But now that I’m here, I’m having second thoughts.
Not about the game.
About the seat.
The lights in the arena cut out, and the dramatic pregame show starts.
This is my first hockey game, but it’s not my first time at a professional sporting event, so I’m not surprised by the over-the-top team introduction.
Since we’re in Vegas, the announcers are focused on the home team, giving the Sleet the bare minimum attention. But I don’t miss them announcing number twenty-four, Luke Anders, as one of the starters.
I smooth my free hand down the front of my Sleet jersey, my baby-pink nails the best shade I could find to go with the green and blue team colors.
I’m second-guessing everything and wondering if the jersey is a bit much. But I’m set to move to Minnesota next week, and there’s nothing wrong with supporting my local team.
I take another drink of my beer.
This damn move to Minnesota.
Almost every day since leaving Mexico, I’ve communicated with Luke.
Texts, a few FaceTime calls…
Yet, I haven’t told him I’m moving.
I’d like to blame it on how busy I’ve been at work. All the travel. All the meetings. But I’m always busy, so I can’t really pull that as an excuse. I just need to clip on my lady balls and tell him.
I take a breath. That’s a problem for later.
The arena lights come up, and the announcer asks us all to rise for the national anthem.
Setting my drink in the cupholder, I stand.
I tug up the waistband of my skintight dark-wash skinny jeans. They’re stretchy enough to be comfortable but tight enough to firm up all my jiggly bits. And they look good with the jersey.
When the song starts, I shift closer to the glass so I can look at Luke as he stands on the ice.
He really is a handsome motherfucker.
His hair is already damp with sweat, and it just makes me think about the first time I saw him looming over me on that weight bench.
And here we are today.
As the anthem ends and the crowd starts to cheer, I shove my rising nerves back down.
Luke invited me.
I told him I was coming.
He knows I’m here.
And maybe, before the end of the game, he’ll spot me.
As everyone starts to sit, I do the same, wedging my ass back into the narrow seat.
