Page 43 of Fake Out Hearts

“Is this your first Aces game?” Callie asks as she sits down next to me in the stands.

“Not the first, no. But I used to cheer for the other side when I was at an Aces game,” I say, and Margo laughs.

“Yeah, your jersey kind of gives away that you’ve changed teams. We thought you were trying to keep it more on the downlow.”

I shrug. “I mean, we can’t keep it a secret from the rest of the team forever, right? Might as well get out in front of it.”

I sound much more confident than I feel, but Margo must be buying it because she smiles and nods.

“Spoken like someone who’s familiar with how all of this PR stuff works.”

“I was with a reality TV star for a couple of years, so I know a thing or two. What about you, Callie? What’s your connection to the team?”

“I’m with Reese,” she answers, beaming as she finds him out on the ice.

The guys are all taking turns making practice shots at the goalie now, so it’s not hard to see who’s who. After Reese takes his shot, he swoops around the back side of the goal and blows a kiss to Callie. She catches it and rests it against her heart. It’s kind of corny, but it makes me smile, regardless.

Noah’s next in line, and Margo watches him with the kind of look only a woman in love would wear. Surprising no one, Noah sinks the shot, then points his stick right at Margo in the stands and winks at her.

He mouths, “That one’s for you,” and she calls back, “I love you!”

It’s Theo’s turn, and he comes barreling down the ice toward Grant, the Aces’ goalie, like he’s got a thirst for blood. His hands whip back and forward, sending the puck rocketing at Grant like a heat-seeking missile, and although Grant dives to the left to stop it, the puck shoots through his outstretched hands and sinks into the net anyway.

Theo comes to a hard stop by twisting to one side and digging his skates into the ice, showering the Plexiglass barrier with spray. He finds me in the stands and locks eyes with me, making my heart start to race, then skates slowly over to the glass. He kisses his glove, then presses it against the glass.

“Becca, look!” Margo nudges me, pointing up at the gigantic screens that hang above the ice.

The crowd camera is active, and it’s zoomed in on my face. I watch myself blush, and I don’t know what comes over me, but I kiss my fingertips and press my hand to the glass against his. The cameras catch the whole thing, making it loud and clear to everyone who’s watching that he and I are together, but I can barely focus on anything other than the hammering of my pulse in my ears.

Because Theo is claiming me, very publicly, and I don’t know how to describe the way that makes me feel.

We stand staring at each other for a few moments, our hands touching through the glass, until Theo finally winks at me and skates away. With my heart still pounding, I return to the stands and find Callie wearing a teasing smile.

“So much for keeping things on the downlow, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I say, and although my neck is hot and flushed, I don’t really mind. But I don’t have time to linger on it, because a buzzer sounds, announcing the end of warmup, and within minutes, the arena doors open like flood gates and the stands start to overflow with eager fans of both teams racing to their seats.

The Aces leave the ice and I feel adrenaline coursing through me. I can’t remember the last time I was genuinely excited to watch a hockey game. With Shawn, I always dreaded them, because no matter if the Prowlers won or lost, he’d find something to complain or agonize about after. And he’d always find some way to blame me for it.

I used to be an Aces fan, years ago. But with their rivalry with the Prowlers, rooting for them in Shawn’s presence was basically blasphemy, so I had to give that up quickly. Thinking about it makes me realize just how much I had to give up for Shawn, so many things that were such a big part of who I was.

Knowing I’ll never have to do any of that again is the most liberating feeling I’ve had in years. My future with Theo and in the USA is about as uncertain as it could be, but I’d still much rather be in this situation than spend another second shackled to Shawn.

I realize I don’t even know who the Aces are playing against until the other team drifts out onto the ice a few minutes later. I don’t recognize their black-and-gold jerseys, but the scoreboard above the ice updates to show an illustrated logo, announcing them as the Vegas Cobras.

The teams line up on the ice and skate past each other, bumping fists in a show of respect for each other and the game, before taking their sides at center ice. There are still fans finding their seats, but for the most part, everyone’s settled and eagerly watching the ice, including me. Excitement crackles in my veinsat the tension as the guys form up around the referee, waiting for him to drop the puck so they can lunge.

I’m on the edge of my seat watching, and the game hasn’t even started yet. We’re on the Aces’ side of the ice, so I find Theo exactly where he’s supposed to be on the right wing, flanking Noah. Each of the guys looks like they could leap at any second, so when the buzzer sounds and the ref drops the puck, everything becomes a blur that’s hard to follow.

I don’t see how it happens, but the Aces win the puck, and Noah’s already soaring down the ice with it in his possession. Margo lets out a loud whoop beside me and jumps out of her seat to cheer him on. Theo’s trailing him, doing his best to stay in the way of the other team and keep the path clear for Noah, and it works.

When he’s just a few yards away from the net, Noah swings his stick back in one graceful arc and sends the puck flying, catching the Cobras’ goalie off guard. And just like that, the Aces are up one to nothing in a matter of seconds. I leap out of my seat with all the other Aces fans, shouting and losing my mind along with them. The Aces have always been a force to be reckoned with, easily one of the best teams in the league, and they’re showing it right off the bat tonight.

I don’t know anything about the Cobras, but they’d better wake up quick before they get steamrolled. The teams return to center ice, and this time the Cobras’ center takes the puck, but Theo’s on him immediately, hounding him all the way down the ice. He’s just about to shoulder the guy when he changes direction abruptly and sends Theo soaring past him to crash into the boards.

Theo bounces off them and quickly recovers, and I can tell from the way he’s hustling back toward the guy that he’s pissed about getting feinted. But the Cobras player must know that Theo is out for blood, because again, just as Theo is about tocatch up to him, he sinks a pass to a teammate, soaring the puck just out of Theo’s reach. Theo slams the ice with his stick and course corrects.

“He’s psyching himself out,” I grumble.

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