Page 25 of Love Me Boldly

His eyes narrowed on the picture. “Ice arena. You’ve never been? They do open skate every week. It’s a blast.”

No, I’d never been to the arena for a fun night of ice skating. I didn’t tell Dallas that. I thanked him, took my phone back, and then it clicked.

A quick search of NCWU’s hockey roster proved me right. Graham Marchese, forward, whatever that meant. His face was a bit blurry due to the thumbnail picture provided, but as I scrolled through the rest of the roster, other names jumped out at me. Eli. Tanner.

Well, surprise, surprise.

Another search of their schedule had most of my other doubts about Graham clicking into place. Every night he was out of town? He was at an away game. On nights when he was “busy?” He had a home game. Nights when he went to bed early? He’d had to leave the next morning for a trip.

I should have been able to figure it out sooner given his propensity for wearing sweatshirts and hats with our school’s logo all over it. I’d assumed he was big into school spirit.

“You owe me for this,” Tracey muttered, and her body shivered as we set our phones beneath the school’s ticket scanner. “It’s freezing in here.”

It was cold, and the air was different from outside. Staler and not as crisp as the freezing temps outside.

“It’s not like they can heat the place,” I muttered.

We headed to the concession stand and bought hot chocolates and then scanned the arena. A small cheering section was decked out in green and gold hats and scarves on the opposite side of the rink beneath the massive HOME SEATING green banner.

And on the ice?

The team was warming up. Charleston University was their opponent, and they were closest to us in their red and white jerseys.

“Looks like we go this way.”

I followed her around the edge of the arena, keeping one eye on the hockey teams, and trying to figure out which one was Graham. They all had on helmets and pads, and there weren’t names on the back of the jerseys to help me out.

We reached the bleacher section, and as Tracey started walking toward the small crowd that looked to be students, most of them blonds, I grabbed the back of her coat.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“That girl.” I gestured to the blond closest to the glass wall. She was decked out in green and gold. It also looked like she’d added strands of green tinsel to her hair.

The rest of the girls around her looked similar. Apparently the Lambda Nu Chi girls were fans…maybe not of hockey, but definitely of the players.

Tracey made a face as she looked at me over her shoulder. “We should probably figure out who she is.”

“Explains why she approached me about Graham.”

We avoided the students and climbed the steps to the back row, passing a dozen or more adults gathered close together in the bleachers at the center of the rink. We grabbed our seats, separated from both adults and students, and off to the side, giving me a clear view of the ice rink.

“Graham’s number eight,” she said, and then flashed me a picture on her phone.

I leaned in closer. “What about Eli and Tanner?”

She scrolled through the roster pics, moving slow enough I could pick out their faces. “Tanner is twenty-two, and Eli…six,” she said once she found them.

“Wonderful.” I focused on the team.

They were set up in three lines, and the guys skated so fast, slapped the puck back and forth so quickly, I kept losing sight of it. It looked like a drills practice, and after every shot at the small goal, they skated leisurely back to the lines. It was impressive any of the pucks went in considering the goalie was about twice the size of the small goal he skated in front of.

Everything moved so fast, and the constantswishof skates on ice and thesmackof the puck soon became nothing but background noise.

Tracey sat and bumped my shoulder as we huddled close to each other and wrapped my blanket around us. “I can’t believe you’re dating a hockey player.”

“I’m not dating anyone.”

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