Page 103 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan

“I know. I just… I can’t believe it. He won. My boyfriend just won the most important hockey game of the year.”

“Yeah, and I think you need to celebrate now, don’t you?”

“I guess I do.” I laugh. “He wants me to go to the locker room. I’m not sure how to get there though. I guess I should find Miles.”

“I actually saw a sign. I can help you, I think.”

“But are you going to get lost?”

“No. You know I’m good with directions, girl.”

“True. You are.” I laugh. “Okay. Well, let me go find my man and support him.”

“Give him a big hug. For me and for Wes. We’re so proud of him. What he just accomplished is amazing.”

“I know. It really is. I love him. Not just because he won this.”

“I know you love him because he is the man of your dreams.”

“Well… you want to know something really bad and sad? What if I had created the man of my dreams? It would’ve been like the opposite of him. Because I’m not even into jocks. But he’s actually turning out to be more the man of my dreams than the fictional man of my dreams… if that makes sense.”

“It totally makes sense,” she says. “And I’m happy for you. I’m happy that you found him, and I’m happy that he has you. Now—go and get him and celebrate, okay?”

I give her a quick hug. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

I hurry toward the locker room, show my ID, and I’m happy to see that Tyler is standing there waiting for me. He steps forward, water dripping from his hair.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I say. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Even though I didn’t actually see your winning shot? I mean, I saw it because Sabrina took a video, and I watched it, but I didn’t see it in person.”

“That’s okay.” He grins. “The fact that you’re here means more than you actually seeing it. And you came to my art show, so that was more important to me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. But I mean, if you feel really bad, you can make it up to me.”

“Oh, and how can I do that, Mr. Kane?”

“I don’t know. Got any ideas?”

“I don’t know. Are there any empty rooms we can go into?”

“I think I can make that happen.” He nods.

I run my finger down his bicep and squeeze. He gives me a look.

“You’re playing with fire, Ms. Carrington.”

“Oh, yeah? What does that mean?”

“It means if you continue touching me like that, we might not make it to any room.”