But then the room tilts as it sinks in.
She’s HERE!
My pulse is suddenly everywhere—in my throat, in my ears, in the tips of my fingers—as I struggle not to drop my phone. Seriously, did she tie her mom up and lock her in a closet?
Okay, that’s a little extreme.
Excitement surges through my veins, racing all through my extremities until even my toes tingle. I text back fast, tossing a look over my shoulder to make sure no one has left the locker room yet.
How are you here!?
With wide eyes, I wait for a reply, because she’s not supposed to be here—because her mom hates me and hates hockey even more—and because if she’s recognized, this could turn her fake-dating situation into a scandal.
No response!
Around me, the guys snap helmets on. Bryce slaps my shoulder on his way out the door. My feet won’t move. One by one, the stalls empty. The knot in my throat swells as my time runs out, and I reluctantly curl my fingers around my phone. I’m about to stuff it back into my bag when it buzzes!
I know, it’s shocking. I asked Bodan if he wanted to go on a fake date to see the game. My mom was excited about the potential photo of the two of us together. Every time they go viral, her ratings go up a point. So, we’re here together. Perfect decoy, right?
My chest hollows out in an instant. Of course she’s here with Bodan.
Her public boyfriend.
The one who can sit beside her without anyone questioning it.
I picture it without meaning to. Great, now I’m going to throw up. I can’t stop the image from replaying in my head—her leaning toward him to pose for a photo. She’s playing her role. I get it, but I don’t trust he won’t try to swoop in.
The sting rises in the center of my chest—hot as blue fire.
But then something else pushes through, stronger than the sting.
She came to my game.
Even though her mom hates hockey, Lottie risked being here. She wanted to be here so badly, she brought Bodan just to make it possible. That feels like it means more than it does on the surface.
I’ll find you.
My heart pulses in my throat as I can’t stop thinking about her sitting next to Bodan, knowing he’s working hard to win her over. Any guy would. I force a grin despite myself, tuck my phone away, and hurry out of the locker room.
The arena’s roar crashes over me as I take a warm-up lap. Scanning the crowd, it’s effortless to spot her. Our gazes are so in tune, we connect instantly.
She’s a few rows up, and like she warned me, she’s tucked beside Bodan. He has no clue how lucky he is to be on a date with Lottie, even if it is fake. When she sees me, her mouth curves into a smile I swear she’s been saving just for me.
I lift my glove and wave.
She waves back.
Bodan waves too. In my opinion, he’s a little too enthusiastic and obvious, like he’s greeting a best friend across a parking lot. I chuckle under my breath.Buddy, you have no idea.I shake my head as I get ready for the puck drop.
Everything narrows, like it always does, to just the ice and the puck.
The first period is a little out of sync. It feels like everyone’s trying to establish dominance. Despite that, we get control of the puck, and Jake Twiles takes off on a rush that makes my stomach clench. It’s looking good until their goalie shuts him down with a glove save that brings the crowd to its feet.
Emotion rises in my throat as I steal a few seconds to look at Lottie. Sitting on the edge of her seat, her gaze fixes on me with so much focus. Not at all like she sat at the museum lecture,which makes me chuckle. Poor Bodan. He has no idea … What is that, like the third time I said that about him? That’s like his slogan. No-idea Bodan. I like it.
Back in the game, Twiles gets loose again.
He snaps one on a breakaway. I skate past our bench, my jaw twitching as I force myself not to look at the crowd.Stay focused, Ty. For the most part, I do. It’s easy to be consumed by the game. It’s a first language to me.
