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“Thanks for the ride,” she says as she buckles her seatbelt.
“No problem. Where would you like to eat?” I ask as I pull out onto the busy street.
She shrugs. “Anywhere is fine with me.”
I think for a moment. Where did she like to eat? Then it hits me. I know just the place. “Are you in a rush to go home?”
“No. Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Her eyebrows lift with curiosity, but she doesn’t ask questions. Instead, she settles back into the leather seats. Trusting me. That gives me the warm fucking fuzzies. Okay, she’s only trusting me with dinner. Not saving her life. It still means a lot though.
During the drive, I catch her up on the things I’d been doing over the years. She was curious about my work and living in London. I wanted to know about her life too, yet any time I asked her about it, she closed up. Telling me there wasn’t much to tell because Derek had kept her from doing anything she loved. My fingers grip around the steering wheel. Anytime that bastard’s name is mentioned I want to punch something. Knowing what I know now, he’s lucky he’s dead.
Finally, we arrive at our destination. Harper peers out of the passenger side window at Madison Square Garden. She swings her head toward me, her eyes wide with surprise. “What are we doing here?”
“Going to see the New York Rangers smash Tampa Bay Lightning.”
“Really?” She giggles with excitement.
“Yes.” I drive to a nearby parking garage. The rain has stopped, and we walk to the arena.
Harper tugs at my arm. “I haven’t been to a game in years! I can’t believe I’m here.”
A knife twists in my gut. She hasn’t been to a game because her asshole husband wouldn’t let her. I buy tickets—I have a box seat we could sit in that provides a gourmet banquet and the best wine and champagne, but I remember how much Harper loves being among the crowd. After we buy slices of pizza, popcorn, and beer, we make our way to our seats. As the teams warm up on the ice, Harper bounces on the chair like a child waiting to see Santa. It’s so adorable.
Lights flash, music blares, and Harper is on the edge of her seat. When the New York Rangers skate onto the rink, she jumps to her feet and cheers, beer sloshing over the rim of her cup and onto her hand. She sucks the alcohol off her skin. The sight causes my balls to tighten. This was supposed to be an innocent night out. But just like that, I’m imagining her mouth sucking things on me.
I’m so relieved when the game starts, and I drag my attention to the ice. As the puck flies and hockey sticks clash, Harper is cheering them on. She screams along with the crowd when players get smashed against the Perspex glass and when fights start. I’m spending more time and having more fun watching Harper than I am watching the game. It’s bringing me back to when we were young and carefree without a worry in the world. Just the two of us. Instead of the usual bitterness that comes with memories of Harper, joy fills me. I like this feeling much better.
It’s the first break and the teams skate off the rink. Harper flops down on her chair with a sigh. “I’d forgotten how intense ice hockey is.” She places a hand over her heart. “I can’t take the anxiety.”
I laugh. “Having a good time?”
Her face brightens. “Yes! Thank you so much. I miss this.”
Does she mean she misses watching ice hockey or she misses watching it together? Laughter and cheering breaks into my thoughts, and I turn toward the screens suspended high above the rink. People in the crowd are on kiss cam. We sit watching the awkward and funny moments before couples kiss.
Then the camera spans to Harper and me. Like all the other awkward couples, we laugh uncomfortably and fidget in our seats. Here’s my chance to do what I’ve wanted to do all evening—although, maybe not with a crowd of thousands cheering us on. I turn in my seat, cup Harper’s face in my hands, and just before our lips touch, she lets out a gasp of surprise as she closes her eyes to receive it.
As soon as our mouths meet, I don’t want to stop. My tongue skims her lips, wanting her to open to me. At the rowdy cheer from the crowd, Harper pulls away and gives a shy smile. Crap, even with an arena filled with people, Harper can make me forget where I am. If I think I can get this woman out of my system, I’m fucking lying to myself.
What the hell am I supposed to do about this? I can’t go back to what we had…can I? No, we can never get that time back. Nor do I want to. Even though our past is filled with unforgettable moments, they’re tainted. I know now it wasn’t completely Harper’s fault. But things just can’t be the same. What about our future? I sit lost with thoughts as the game continues.
Harper’s enthusiasm grows with each goal until she cheers with triumph as the New York Rangers win the game.
Throwing her arms around my neck, she hugs me. “This has been amazing! Thank you so much for taking me. I loved watching ice hockey again.”
And I loved watching you.I keep those words to myself. “I’m glad you had fun.”
On the drive home, Harper drifts off to sleep. I’m glad I don’t have to fill the ride with chatter. Who knows what I’d say to her. Would I spill how I feel about her? I’m not sure I even know…or I’m not ready to admit what I’m feeling.
At her apartment, I gently shake her awake. She blinks with sleepy surprise at her surroundings. “I fell asleep.”
I smile. “Yes, and you still snore.”
She springs awake. “I do not!”
