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“And if pretty boy hurts you, I’ll kill him,” he says gruffly.
“You can tell him that yourself. I’m not about to interfere with your desire to be an overprotective dad.”
Chuckling, my dad is silent a moment before nudging me off him, and I sip my beer. I bet he gives Hendrix those exact words tonight after the game.
The warm-ups end, and I watch as Hendrix skates off the ice. We have twenty minutes before the game starts. No one is sitting in the seats in front of us yet, so I kick up my booted feet. “Okay, I’ll give you the rundown on Hendrix—the good and the bad—so you have a head start in figuring out how to best threaten him.”
I tell my dad pretty much everything I’ve learned about Hendrix over the past week. Mostly about his family, and my dad thinks it’s cool Hendrix’s aunt loves Stevie Nicks as much as he does.
By the time the puck drops, I have my dad begrudgingly admitting I might have found someone who could meet his high expectations. I have to remind him that I’m not really looking for anyone, although it’s been a cool twist of fate to have met Hendrix.
The game is intense. The Titans lost their last game to Nashville, and tonight there seems to be an almost palpable ferocity to their play. It seems they slam their opponents harder into the glass and scrabble more intently for loose pucks in front of the goal.
By the time the game concludes with their 3–1 win over the San Diego Renegades, I can feel the team’s exhaustion. Only once more does Hendrix’s gaze cut to me, just after the third period buzzer. He was on the bench for the final line shift and before exiting to congratulate his teammates, he shoots me a smile.
I give him a double thumbs-up to indicate how happy I am for his win. His gaze flicks to my dad but doesn’t linger.
As planned, we make our way out of the lower level and to an elevator halfway around the concourse where Hendrix directed us to go. Two Titans employees—an older man dressed in black with a purple vest boasting the Titans’ logo, an iPad in hand—and another holding lanyards with visitor passes attached. We give our names to him, and he locates us easily.
“Take the elevator down to the basement level, and there will be an usher to direct you to the players’ family lounge.”
Hendrix told me about the family lounge—a place the Titans’ organization outfitted to host family members and friends who come to watch games. While its main purpose is a gathering place for those family and friends who’ve traveled from out of state, everyone uses it to congregate before and after games. It’s furnished with round tables and chairs, as well as scattered couches and love seats.
I immediately spot Harlow across the room talking to a young blond woman with a curvy figure and even curlier hair. I head that way, my father following along.
Harlow sees us approach, and her smile widens. She hugs me and then my father before introducing us to Tillie Marshall, Coen’s girlfriend. Hendrix told me they started dating this summer after Coen bought a place in Coudersport, Pennsylvania, and that Tillie still lives there. While Hendrix didn’t give exact details, he said that Coen credits Tillie as being the only person who could get his head out of his ass after his suspension from the team and the decision he’d made to quit hockey for good.
“It’s so good to meet you,” Tillie says as she shakes my dad’s hand, then mine. “Hendrix has told Coen all about you and it got passed on to me. I particularly enjoyed the story of how he won ten minutes with you, during which time he got you to agree to a date. He won’t tell Coen or any of the guys what happened in that ten minutes, but here we are.”
“I’d like to know what happened in that ten minutes too,” my dad rumbles, and we all laugh.
“That’s just for me and Hendrix, but let’s just say he didn’t have to try too hard. Just something he said that resonated.”
Harlow loops her arm around my shoulders. “Who would’ve thought the two of us would end up dating hockey players, huh?”
“Oh, please,” I say, giving her a tiny nudge to her ribs with my elbow. “You could have any man on this planet.”
I’m only joking, of course, but it’s true, thanks to Harlow’s near flawless good looks and the fact she’s a successful attorney from a wealthy family.
Harlow scoffs but doesn’t chastise me. She’ll do it later when we’re in private, and I love her for it. She always bolstered me through our high school years when I had issues with my confidence. Those were things my dad just couldn’t help me with, but Harlow always made me feel pretty and interesting in my own right.
