Page 68 of Meant for Mayhem

This one was easy. Not quite normal still, but it felt less forced than every breath before it.

“You got this,” Shannon said. The words were muffled through the glass, but I understood her perfectly. Especially when she put her hand against the glass, ring flashing for all to see. I put my hand against hers, the small connection meaning more to me than any other words today. “We’re rooting for you!”

With one last deep breath, I skated backward away from the boards, giving them one more wave.

Fuck it.

It was game day, baby.

15

The stadium filled up faster than I expected, but, then again, the only time I’d ever set foot in Mile High Arena was last spring for the high school championship game for the Mayhem. Even that was a lot of people, but this?

This was crazy.

I held Leena a little closer to my chest as we walked through the lobby, weaving our way through the many concession stands until I walked away with a Diet Coke and a hot pretzel.

We snapped a quick selfie and sent it off to the Moms of Mayhem group chat, instantly receiving a slew of reactions, including an entire line of pretzel emojis from Emmy.

Emmy

I’ve never been so proud in my life.

Daisy

Okay, but that outfit.

Stevie

SLAY QUEEN!

Did I do that right?

Tate

Yes, unfortunately. Have fun, Shan.

I slid my phone back into my pocket, kissing Leena’s forehead while she gripped the pretzel like her life depended on it. Luckily, our seats were easy to find, about ten rows back and to the right of the Yeti’s bench—perfectly positioned so Mikko could see us every time he changed shifts. He’d reserved us two seats, but I was pretty sure Leena would sit on my lap most of the game. Whether that was for her comfort or mine… To be determined.

We sat on the aisle, leaving a seat between us and the guy who sat on the other side of us wearing a grey Yeti crewneck and a navy-blue baseball hat. He smiled when we sat down, studying us.

A weird prickle went up my spine, thinking over how nervous Mikko was about Leena’s safety. And yet, her jersey had his number plastered on her back with his name. I leaned down and pulled a fleece jacket out of my bag and slid it on over her jersey—dual purpose at keeping her warm in the cold arena and hiding the identifying features that advertised who she was.

“Smart,” the guy next to us said. “Fans are weird sometimes.”

The strange feeling came rushing back, and I turned to glare at him, ready to unleash. But he grinned, hands held in the air.

“Sorry. That sounded creepy,” he said. “If you’re down here, then you’re not exactly the WAG type. Welcome to the Outcast Club. I’m Nolan.”

I looked at his outstretched hand, still not sure if he was friend or foe. When I didn’t shake it, he chuckled, then dropped it and looked away.

“You know, when I heard the news about Mikko, I didn’t believe it. But this? This makes so much sense now.”

Leena stood up on my lap, bouncing and clapping her hands to the music. I held her hips and let her have fun, still not taking my eyes off the guy I couldn’t seem to get a read on.

“You know Mikko?”

Nolan let out a low laugh, then looked back at me. “Yes. I’m a flight attendant on the team plane, but I’m also dating Carter Sullivan.”