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“I can’t wait to see his face.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Dayna asked.
“Nothing.” Ella flashed her a bright smile. “How was Aiden before the game?”
“Focused. In the zone.”
“And you? Are you nervous?”
“I can’t stop shaking,” Dayna confessed.
“Do you guys have, like, a pre-game ritual?” Harper leaned around me. “If you know what I’m saying.”
Dayna flushed firetruck red, and Harper shrieked, “Oh my God, you do, don’t you?”
“We… ah, you guys. Stop.”
“Don’t look at us,” I said. “It’s Harper and her lack of filter.”
“What?” She shrugged. “We’re all friends. Oh my God, here they come.” Harper grabbed my arm, barely containing her excitement.
The referee conferred with Coach Tucker and the coach from the opposing team. Then players spilled over the boards, taking up their positions on the ice.
“LET’S GO, LAKERS,” Ella screamed at the top of her lungs, scaring the crap out of us. Dayna gawked over at her, and she blushed. “Sorry, I get a little carried away.”
“A little?” We all laughed. “I think you burst my eardrum.”
“I’m just so excited and nervous for them.”
A ripple of anticipation went through the arena as Aiden and the opposing center faced off against each other. But I wasn’t watching the Lakers captain. I only had eyes for the right-winger.
Number 11.
A sharp breath punched my lungs as I watched Noah out there. He looked so focused, so freaking hot in his pads and jersey, my heart raced.
The referee dropped the puck, and Aiden was straight in with his stick, sending the arena into a frenzy.
“Hell, yeah,” Harper whooped as he sent the puck flying back to Connor, and the Lakers’ offense broke away, flying toward the attacking zone.
“Oh my God.” I clutched Harper’s arm, fixated on the way Noah glided across the ice, closing in on the goal. Connor passed the puck to Mason, who sent it soaring right into the blade of Noah’s stick. He pulled back, took the shot, and scored.
Everyone was on their feet. Me included.
“GO LAKERS,” Harper yelled at the top of her lungs, making me vibrate with laughter.
Noah celebrated with his teammates, and pride welled inside me. But it was nothing compared to the shock I felt when he searched the crowd, his eyes landing right on me.
Something passed between us, visceral and intense and real. A single moment that made me feel so much.
Then he was gone, swept up into the game.
And I realized Harper was right.
Love had no guarantees. It had no safety net or rulebook. And more often than not, it could go wrong.
So very wrong.
But it could also go right. It could be beautiful and exhilarating and wonderful. If only you were brave enough to take the leap of faith and trust your heart.
