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“Wait. You mean good with an E?”
She nods. “Yep.”
“That’s hilarious and disturbing. But I won’t yuck someone else’s yum. Where are they sitting?”
“If you look to your left and back about ten rows, you’ll find them,” she explains.
I try to be nonchalant, appearing as if I’m merely looking around before I turn my head to search for them. They’re easy enough to find with their matching sweatshirts. They appear to be a mix of ages. “Wow, there’re a lot of them.”
She nods. “And they’re loud when they cheer for Ryder.”
“Does it bother you that he has a fan club of sorts?” I ask.
“It was weird at first, but I can fault them for thinking my fiancé is hot.”
“Look at you throwing out the F word,” I tease.
She laughs. “I know, right? It’s a bit surreal.”
“I bet. But it’s happening, and I’m here for it all. I can’t wait to see you marry the man of your dreams.”
“Aww.” Calista leans her head on my shoulder. “You’ll always be my favorite.”
“No, I won’t, and that’s okay. Everything is as it should be,” I say.
“Not everything. You still need to find your dream man,” she reminds me.
“Do I, though? I’ve got a career I love, a house I bought, and freedom to do whatever I please.”
“You don’t need a man to complete your life. But some companionship would be nice,” she says.
“Yeah, I agree with that. Maybe I need a dog. Then I’d never be alone. He’d cuddle in bed with me and never talk back.”
“Sounds like a plan.” She laughs.
I’m getting antsy by the time the game is about to begin. I’m cold, and my ass is numb for real. The fans are already fired up. I can’t imagine what they’ll be like by the end of the game. Maybe I should’ve brought earplugs. I press my fingers to my cold ears. Or earmuffs.
Calista holds out a pair of gloves. “I brought these for you.”
I snatch them from her, tugging them on my half-frozen fingers, and pretend to cry tears of joy. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver and the best friend in the world.”
She laughs. “I figured you’d forget to bring some.”
“You figured right.” I have a history of forgetting gloves. My producer keeps a stockpile in his vehicle for me so I have them when we film on location. “Why can’t I remember them? Do I have a mental block about small knitted items?”
She laughs again. “You need the mittens with the string that goes through your sleeves so you can’t forget.”
“I despised those when I was a kid. Maybe that’s the root of my problem,” I say.
Before Calista can reply, it’s time for the game to start. The entire arena buzzes with anticipation. The crowd roars loud enough to hurt my ears.
Rogan leans forward in his seat, holding an imaginary microphone. “The freshly zambonied surface glistens under the bright lights as players from both teams take to the ice. Gliding head and shoulders over the rest is Niall “the Annihilator” O’Rourke, the home team’s enforcer?—”
“Enough, Rogan,” Maeve snaps at him.
Personally, I appreciated the narration and could use more of it for the duration of the game.
“Their blades rip into the ice as they prepare for the epic battle,” Rogan continues.
