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“Of course.”
I’m so grateful to Lily that I’d do anything she asked of me right now. If she has any enemies she’d like taken out in cold blood, I’m her girl.
She leans in to whisper in my ear, “Only your glass has a little vodka in it. Mine’s just cranberry juice because…I’m pregnant.”
I break out in an excited, open-mouth grin. She brings a finger to her lips to shush me, then leans in again.
“We’ve been trying for almost two years. I had a miscarriage last year. So we aren’t telling anyone until the second trimester. But I had to tell someone, and I felt like I could trust you.”
“Absolutely,” I say out loud. Then I lean close to her ear and whisper, “Congratulations. You’ll be a great mom.”
Her eyes fill with tears as she covers one of my hands with one of hers, squeezing. “Thanks.”
Once the puck drops, our focus is entirely on the game. It’s crazy to be watching it live from a VIP box. We have a clear view of the ice, and the crowd’s energy is contagious.
My dad and his friends are watching the game at home on TV. I feel a silly urge to wave at them, even though they wouldn’t be able to see me.
“Come on, Jonah,” Lily says under her breath as two of the New York forwards pass the puck back and forth.
When one of them finally takes a shot on goal, Jonah moves to deflect the puck, and it bounces off his chest guard. Lily smiles and visibly relaxes.
“Do you get nervous for him?” I ask her.
“I do. Every time.”
“I can’t imagine. I hardly even know Victor, and I get nervous for him.”
“You hardly know him?” She looks at me, brows raised. “He must really like you.”
I blush hard and fast, realizing what must be going through her head. “No, it’s not like that. I just gave him some hockey advice.”
“He’s a good guy. One of my favorites, actually. Victor is humble and doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”
I smile at that. It’s good to know my crush radar is solid. If I have to adore a man I can’t have, I want him to be a good one, not some dickhead who treats people terribly.
Victor picks up another two assists, and the Blaze pick up another win. The mood is light as Lily, Mia and I take an Uber to an upscale restaurant to meet the team.
I see Victor approaching us in a charcoal suit with a navy tie, grinning. Damn, he’s handsome.
“Hey,” he says, hugging me. “You look great.”
My heart pounds wildly as I force myself to breathe in and out. He smells divine—a light, woodsy scent—and his body is as hard as it looks. That one hug will sustain my fantasies for a very long time.
Victor introduces me to everyone by saying, “This is Lindy,” and I can tell by the looks some of his teammates give me that they’re wondering who I am and why I’m here.
But for the next couple hours, I don’t think about the why. I just focus on not spilling anything on myself and talking to Victor. I’m so happy I swear I could take flight.
After our meal, we get time to talk alone as the table starts to clear out. Victor’s suit jacket is hung over the back of his chair and his shirtsleeves are rolled up.
“We’re playing Seattle next; any advice for me?” he asks.
“Hmm. Keep the puck away from Lancer?”
He grins. “Good plan.”
“She knows her hockey,” Lily says to Victor as she stands up. “She pointed out a couple things to me during the game that I wasn’t even seeing.”
“She’s my puck whisperer,” Victor says.
I die, just from the warmth of his tone. But I come back to life quickly, standing up to give Lily a quick hug goodbye. “Thank you,” I say in her ear. “For everything.”
“I had a blast. Let’s get together again soon.”
Lily turns to face the people still sitting at our large table. “We have to get home, the old lady’s tired.”
“The old man’s tired, too, babe,” Jonah says, putting his arm around her waist.
They say goodbye to everyone, and when they leave, Victor says, “So you had fun? Lily was good company?”
“Amazing company. I had so much fun. Thanks again for inviting me.”
He nudges me with his shoulder. “Stop thanking me. I’m glad you came.”
The other players start clearing out then, some with women, some alone. Victor and I are about to be the last ones at the table when he says, “I guess we should catch an Uber home, huh?”
My heart somersaults. I know he didn’t mean we should go home together, but I’m immediately envious of women he does invite back to his house.
“I can call one for myself,” I offer, taking out my phone.
