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“I like your jersey,” he mouths.
I look down and give the ends of my cream scarf a tug. “I brought my lucky charm,” I call out, making him grin wider than the arena.
“You’re my lucky charm.” He points at me, shouting to be heard over the rowdy fans and the wall of plastic between us. “I’ll see you after the game, yeah?” I only just make out what he says over the noise and I nod in response.
He blows me a kiss.
On quick feet he makes skating look effortless as he glides across the ice and when I turn to go back to my seat only a few steps away, I realize there are thousands of sets of intense eyes on me.
Sensing my nerves have reappeared, Erika puts her hand out for me to take to usher me back to my seat.
In full on Janice from Friends style, my sister squeals, “Oh. My. God.”
Judy pats my jean covered thigh before she says, “Well, they certainly know who you belong to now.”
Hell, yeah, they do.
“Ash is kinda an all or nothing guy,” Erika says matter of factly.
“I never would have noticed,” I joke, making our families to the left and right of me laugh.
Eyes shining, standing with other members of his team, Ash finds me in the crowd again and treats me to his trademark smirk.
Happiness blooms in my chest, and I bask in the new emotions he’s woken up within me as I blow him a flirty kiss. He pretends to catch it, then holds it to his heart while mine melts in my chest at his gesture.
I can’t stop my stomach and heart from fluttering.
Holy crap, I think I just became Ash Johansson’s number one fan.
Then it hits me.
Mr. Sexually Experienced-With-An-Older-Woman wants me.
And I have no idea what the hell I am doing.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ash
An odd wave of calm washes over me as I step onto the ice as the commentator calls my name and whizz around the rink, getting pumped up by the crowd’s never-ending support and passion for the game.
Their efforts don’t go unnoticed by me. I see the same sea of faces turning up, traveling to each and every game, standing by the team even when we lose a game, or two, sometimes three in a row. They are the ones that keep us going; the banners they make, the fan mail, and gifts we receive. It’s heartwarming and they feel like family. Although there are some fans who can become a little obsessive and those are the ones we’re pleasant to but take a wide berth.
Regardless, the pros outweigh the cons, and I know deep in my soul that I found my calling. This is where I’m meant to be.
Hockey runs through my veins like hot butter. It’s warming, comforting, and feels like home.
This is where I belong.
Pregame warm up, I’m surrounded by my team as they stretch, practice maneuvers, and throw the puck around with the end of their sticks to help with their hand-eye coordination. And for the first time before a game, I’m not doing any of that because I feel nervous.
And I don’t get nervous before a game. Excited? Yes. Nervous? Never. Focused? Always. Love for the game at an all-time high? That never waivers.
However, tonight, I’m a little distracted.
By her. When I should be zoned into the game.
I can’t believe she actually came. Of course, she said she was coming, but still, I doubted if she would show.
