“And nothing.” I yank my own laces tighter than necessary. “She probably thought they were from someone else. I shouldn't have listened to you, assholes.”
Nova waves off my concern. “Don't worry about it. Today is the clincher. She can't not give you another chance after this.”
“Yeah, or I might end up looking stupid in front of fifteen thousand people.”
“That's the spirit, Wall. Positive thinking.”
I glare at him, but he just grins back, completely unbothered by my hostility. That's the thing about Nova. Nothing fazes him. He's been annoyingly optimistic about this whole plan since I made the mistake of asking for advice.
It happened three nights ago. We were having dinner at some steakhouse with Cole, Theo, Nova, and Jake. I'd been stewing in my own misery for weeks, barely eating, barely sleeping,replaying every moment with Natalie until I made myself sick with regret.
Theo had finally had enough.
“You need to fix this,” he said, pointing his fork at me. “You're miserable. She's miserable. The whole damn facility is walking on eggshells because you two can't be in the same room without the temperature dropping twenty degrees.”
“I don't know how to fix it.”
“Do something huge that will make her forget what an asshole you were,” Nova said immediately. “Women love that. Go big or go home.”
“What kind of something?”
And that's when the ideas started flying. Flowers first, they decided. Test the waters, see if she's receptive. Then, if she doesn't completely reject the offering, go bigger.
The Jumbotron was Nova’s idea, then Cole jumped in. Who would have thought the Robot had a romantic bone in his body, but to be fair, since Harper, he’s mellowed.
Cole knows the marketing team from all his captain duties and community events. He made some calls, pulled some strings, and suddenly my romantic desperation became an official arena production.
Coach Mercer was less enthusiastic.
“Soap opera bullshit,” he muttered when Cole told him the plan. “We're here to play hockey, not stage a goddamnBachelorepisode.”
But he didn't say no. Probably because he's tired of my sulking affecting my performance. Or maybe, underneath all that gruff exterior, he's a secret romantic. I doubt it, but stranger things have happened.
“The marketing team is set,” Cole says from across the locker room. “They thought it was romantic. They're excited to be part of it.”
“Camera operators are tipped off,” Theo adds. “They know to find Natalie when the message goes up.”
“Great.” I pull my jersey over my head. “So everyone in the organization knows I'm about to make a fool of myself.”
“Everyone in the arena will know,” Jake corrects cheerfully. “There's like fifteen thousand people out there. Plus, whatever gets posted online afterward.”
“You're not helping,” glaring at him.
“I'm keeping you humble. There's a difference.”
The locker room buzzes with pre-game energy as the other guys finish getting ready. This is my first game back since the injury. My first real test of whether my knee can handle actual competition.
Instead, all I can think about is what happens after I score.
If I score.
What if I don't score? What if I play like shit and never get the chance to point at the Jumbotron? What if Natalie isn't even paying attention when the message goes up? What if she sees it and walks away?
“Stop overthinking it.” Theo drops onto the bench beside me. “You're going to do great. The knee is solid. You've been skating circles around everyone in practice. Just play your game.”
“And if I don't score?”
“Then we go to Plan B. Nova tackles you on the ice, and you propose right there.”
