Page 9 of The One Timer

“Great job tonight.” He gives my shoulder a smack and sends me out to the hallway. Before I go through the door, I take another look around the locker room for my stick boy, Danny, and spot him. I catch his eye, and he nods, giving me a thumbs up. My grin is automatic, and I return his thumbs up. I owe that kid.

My pulse jumps as I push through the door, and it’s not about talking to the media despite the three cameras and half a dozen microphones waiting for me. It’s all about her, my mystery girl. It shouldn’t excite me this much. I only want to get to the bottom of the story about why she was in Gran’s seat and find out who she is. But let’s face it, that’s not why my pulse is suddenly racing.

No, the sudden rush of blood in my system is all about checking her out close up to make sure she’s not a mirage. Because from the ice, she looked like a fucking vision.

Chapter Four

EMERY

The lights are up, and fans are filing out from the seats, but I’m content to sit and take it all in, my heart still racing from the excitement of the hat trick.

“I can’t believe you threw your hat onto the rink,” Merry says.

“You threw yours, too,” I accuse her.

“Sure, but we both know I’m nuts. Plus, I have a car with heat, and I’m driving home.”

Usually, I walk, ride my bike, or take the bus for transportation because I don’t own a car. Never have. In fact, I don’t even have a license because driving lessons were not in Aunt B’s budget. Not for me, anyway.

“You’re driving me home, right?”

“Nope. Did you forget your date with the hunkalicious hockey boy, Chase Whittier?” She wiggles her brows as if it’s a done deal.

“You’re nuts. I don’t⁠—”

I stop talking when I see a teenage boy dressed in a Whalers team jersey vaulting over the seats to land in our now-empty row and approach us. He looks unsure.

“Are these the Whittier family seats? I mean⁠—”

“Yes.” Shit. I’m busted.

He smiles, and then he checks out my number 18. What the⁠—

“Chase Whittier sent me for you, the lady in his seat with the long dark hair. He wants to meet you.” He turns to Merry and shrugs. “I guess you, too.”

“Not me. I have to go.” She grins and pulls me to stand with her, shoving me in the direction of the Whaler’s errand boy or whoever he is.

“Who are you?”

He blushes. “I’m with the Whalers. A stick boy—I mean, equipment assistant…?”

“Who cares—just go,” Merry whispers and gives me a shove. “I knew it. I knew you’d meet up with him tonight. Turns out it was easier than we thought.”

I ignore her, still looking at the teen. “What’s your name?”

“Danny.”

“What’s this all about, Danny?” I’m afraid Merry might have it all wrong and that Chase is more interested in how I stole his Grandma’s seats than a night of wild sex.

Danny shrugs. “He said he wants to talk to you.” He smiles.

“Go.” Merry gives me another shove in the boy’s direction, and he takes off, expecting me to follow.

I turn to Merry. “What about you? Come with me⁠—”

She shakes her head. “No way. I’m out of here.”

Danny turns back and stops, frowning when he sees me still planted by our seats. He waves. I nod, and then I move, following him even though my gut churns with all kinds of anticipation, not all of it good.