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Instead I got on the area’s complimentary Wi-Fi and made sure all my stocks were still where they were supposed to be. It was a tick I had developed after my uncle had left me some stocks when I was fourteen.
All was present and accounted for and I checked my email. There was one there from Ava asking me to call her.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“I could ask you the same question,” I said. Cynical as I was trying to be at the time, I always had time for my baby sister. The only woman I would admit that I loved, now that our mom was gone.
“Is she there?” Ava asked.
“Not yet,” I said.
“You think she will be?”
“Hard to tell,” I said, giving away nothing.
“Do you want her to?” Ava asked.
“Yes,” I admitted.
“That’s an improvement,” she said, still managing to sound non-judgmental.
“Yeah,” I said, again amazed by her ability to cut to the heart of things.
“I hope she does,” Ava said.
“Thanks,” I said, trying my best not to cry.
“Gotta go,” I said, when the national anthem started up.
“Let me know how it goes,” Ava said.
“Will do,” I said.
I pocketed the phone and took a deep breath waiting for the ice to clear and the players to enter from the locker room.
“Sorry I’m late.”
I nearly jumped, not sure she would actually come but there she was, wearing the jersey I had custom made for her. I had seen her size on the tag of her shirt. I had a good memory for such things. I had looked her up online to get her last name to have it printed on the back with her favorite number, seven. Like I said, really trying to impress.
“It’s okay,” I said, going to meet her. The seats were on the aisle so I said, “the seats are down here.”
“Okay.”
I took her by the hand and led her down to the seats and she let me without a modicum of protest. I kept hold of her hand and she seemed fine with this despite some initial awkwardness.
It made sense really. I had been a bit of a jerk. I could tell by her reaction that I had hurt her and could understand if she was a bit wary. I certainly would have been.
“I loved the cake, by the way,” I whispered to her as the game started. “It’s like I can still taste it.”
She looked at me shocked and then eased into a soft smile, complimented by a gentle crimson hue on her cheeks. I would have kissed her if she would let me but didn’t want to push it. Though she didn’t take her hand away, which I took as a good sign.
We watched the Rangers getting their asses kicked by Boston to the dismay of the hometown crowd, who seemed one opposition goal away from throwing things on the ice. I just consoled myself that New York didn’t have a massive history for hockey riots.
The only happy people in the arena that night were Sally and me. While the area stayed cold, things between us thawed considerably. By half time she had her head on my shoulder and both of her hands in my jacket, ostensibly to keep them warm, though I had my suspicions.
I put my arm around her in response and she hummed contentedly, sweetly nuzzling my neck. I kissed her tenderly on the forehead, making her giggle and snuggle against me even harder. I could feel her tits pressing against my arm, even through the thick fabric of the jersey and whatever she was wearing under it. My guess was probably a tee shirt.
Just thinking about it made me think about what had happened with the cake again, particularly at the beginning. How nice her tits had been and how good the cake had tasted on them. I didn’t say anything at the time, but she was a really skilled baker and I was honestly a bit disappointed when she said I wasn’t getting another one, even as a joke.
The Rangers were pounded 5-2 but I couldn’t have been happier. I had managed to see Sally again and she seemed to have forgiven me for how we had left things.
Sure, she had said she had agreed with me, but her flinch had spoken volumes. People could misrepresent their feelings with words but unconscious reactions were just that and tended to tell the truth more than we did.
The limo met us outside Madison Square Garden, pulling right up to the curb. Gingerly coming around to the other side of the car, the driver opened the passenger side door for us.
“Thanks,” Sally said, getting in the back first.
“Rickard’s,” I said, before getting in behind her.
The snuggles continued in the limo, Sally getting very close very fast. Which was kind of nice, considering how cold it was. I also just liked the feel of her. I considered popping one of the many bottles of very nice champagne I kept in the limo but didn’t want to get too tipsy too fast.
