Page 35 of Breakaway

“I’ve been reading about hockey on the internet,” she told Delise. “So hopefully I know what’s going on.”

“I think it’s pretty simple. They score a goal by shooting the puck into the other team’s net.”

“Well, duh. I got that much.”

“There’s no half time.”

Remi grinned. “No. Three periods. Two intermissions.” She picked up her Diet Coke and sipped it. “I guess we’ll figure it out.”

She wasn’t prepared for how fast the players moved, the brutal hits that shuddered the glass above the boards, and the way the puck sometimes missed the net in a blistering shot that sent it soaring over the boards.

“Jesus,” Delise muttered. “You could get hurt at one of these games.”

Remi’d flinched once too, when two players fought over the puck and sent it flying in their direction.

Jase was one of the players who did the face off thing, trying to get the puck, bending low to the ice, legs wide apart. He seemed to win most of the face offs, from what she could tell. But the score wasn’t reflecting that. The visiting team, the New York Rangers, scored one goal and then another.

Remi and Delise exchanged disappointed glances at the score. She wanted Jase to win. Maybe he’d score a goal. According to the team’s website, he was one of their top scorers.

And then he got the puck and broke away from the rest of theplayers, racing toward the Rangers’ net all on his own, carrying the puck. The crowd roared and Remi’s heart jumped. He drew back his stick and took the shot—oooh, a fake! He did a quick little maneuver and shot to the opposite side of the net, but no! The goalie stretched out a gloved hand and made what seemed to be an impossible save.

The crowd all groaned and Remi slumped back in her seat. “Damn!”

Jase’s teammates all skated in after him and they shot the puck back and forth around the net, across the ice, around the net again. “What are they doing?” Delise muttered. “They need to shoot at the net to get a goal.”

“I think they’re trying to set something up.”

Remi caught the amused glances of a couple sitting in front of them and realized how clueless she and Delise must sound. She bit her lip. Hopefully those people didn’t know she was there as Jase’s guest. She wouldn’t want to embarrass him.

And then a Ranger got the puck and Jase took off after him and, to Remi’s horror, he smashed the guy into the boards with a thundering crash. The crowd cheered in delight, but Remi put her hands to her mouth. Dear god, he was going to kill the other guy. Or himself. Or both of them.

But they both skated away, although Jase had to adjust his helmet.

Every muscle in her body was tense. Sheesh. She had to relax.

The pace was sizzling, the action nonstop, the tension high. For the rest of the first period, it seemed the teams were skating from one end of the rink to the other and back again. These guys had to be in great shape, although as she watched it seemed to Remi that sometimes they only played for a minute at a time, constantly hopping off the ice onto the bench and being replaced by players barreling over the boards and racing into the game.

When the buzzer sounded to end the first period, the Wolves were still down two nothing.

Remi and Delise stood to go out onto the concourse area and stretch their legs.

“Holy crapsicle,” Remi said. “I don’t know about the players, but I’m exhausted.”

Delise shook her head. “You were playing that whole game with Jase.”

Remi frowned. She had been caught up in it. It was exciting—but scary. Thrilling—but stressful.

“Oh my god.” Remi clutched Delise’s arm

“What?”

“Look over there. It’s Brianne Haskett.”

“Who? Oh, yeah. I see her. Rumor has it she’s going to model for Victoria’s Secret.”

Remi’s stomach plunged to her toes. “Really? It figures.”

“Why?” Delise looked at her, eyebrows lifted.

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