Page 25 of SlapShot Sweetheart

“Aimee?”

“I’ve gotta go,” she mumbled. “I need to think.”

“Fair enough. Will you still be at the game Friday?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll see you then,mon âme sœur.”

“Ugh, again with the French. I swear I’m going to start googling this stuff.”

“Please don’t,” he chuckled softly. “You’ll be mad.”

“If you are calling me mean things – then, yes I am.”

“Do you really think I could say something mean about my friend?”

And she paused once more, growing silent. No, she was pretty sure whatever Theo said wasn’t something mean or cruel but rather an endearment. The idea that it might be one made her want to look it up even more.

“Say it again,” she ordered thickly.

“Non,” he replied, infuriating her. “See you Friday.”

“Maybe,” she snapped, realizing he wasn’t going to give an inch – and heard his soft laugh. “You’re annoying.”

“Friday,” he chuckled. “Don’t forget the parking pass.”

Aimee hung up the phone and googled ‘Monamsure’ – and collapsed on her keyboard in complete frustration. Bath products pulled up under that listing, along with various otherversions of the word – which meant ‘mister’ or some German beachwear, or possibly a British illustrator.

None of it was an endearment in French, which meant she was completely spelling it wrong. His accent was so thick, and he spoke so freely that it could be anything all jumbled together.

“Dang it… I’m gonna need to learn French.”

CHAPTER 8

AIMEE

Traffic downtown was a nightmare.With all this stop-and-go traffic, she was the one who was going to be late this evening, and it was infuriating, making her break out in a sweat so much that even her palms were sticky. Her gut was rumbling, and the idea of missing the behind-the-scenes tour or Theo thinking that she wasn’t coming after all was on the verge of making her sick.

Pulling into the parking garage, she saw the attendant standing there in the little booth handing out tickets to put on the dash of each vehicle. Pulling up a few moments later, she rolled down her window as he casually handed the ticket to her – and she accepted, pausing.

“I’m Aimee Sanders,” she began, seeing him nod as he grabbed another envelope before handing it to her.

“Miss Sanders, Mr. Batiste has a spot held for you on the fourth level of the parking garage. There’s a private walkway over to the team entrance, and you’ll be able to get in with that gate card. It’s coded for this evening’s game, and you’ll need to turn it in when you leave.”

“Oh, of course,” she replied, stunned as he handed her a small bag. “This is from Mr. Batiste as well.”

“What’s this?”

“A little team spirit,” the man winked and lifted the arm so her vehicle could pass underneath, entering the garage. “Have a great time andgoooo Coyotes!”

“Yay – go team,” she whispered, unsure what to think of all of this and realizing that ‘behind the scenes’ really meant behind the scenes. She was going to be entering by the private walkway where the team entered? How intimidating was that?

Parking her car, she saw the varying vehicles and started as she saw Theo’s green Jeep parked between the orange SUV and a flashy black Mercedes SUV with blacked-out windows and another custom vanity plate. On one side of Theo’s‘Allons-y’license plate was ‘Sticks’and on the other side was ‘Puck it.’As she looked around, she saw several vanity plates on expensive cars and chuckled. Apparently, the team’s ego was as big as their wallets because there were quite a few vanity plates on the plethora of flashy cars. This was not something she really noticed before until the orange behemoth was making its getaway… and paused for a moment before slapping her forehead.

“Ohhh,” she chuckled, marveling. “It’s S-T-one-C-K-S… not STICKS with the letter ‘I.’” Feeling like a dummy, she reached for the gift baggie that was currently sitting on the passenger seat and peered inside to see what ‘Team spirit’ was hidden inside. In the bag, there were all sorts of beads, a pom-pom that slipped over your wrist, a beanie with a Coyote stitched on the front, and a box – that she quickly dropped back in the bag as it hit her what that was.

A jewelry box.

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