Page 31 of Puck Me Secretly

The attendant disappeared.

“So, fresh new season, hey?”

She ignored me.

Perhaps she had trouble hearing.

I waited until the attendant returned with our drinks. I passed Katrina her wine and then signed off on the receipt, leaving the attendant a generous tip.

Katrina didn’t thank me for her drink, nor did she thank the attendant which I found rude. Mom had ingrained impeccable manners into me from a young age. You always say thank you.

I gave her one last shot. “Your husband is always welcome to come to the games. You know we can get you some good seats.”

“My husband and I separated this summer.”

Instant retribution. Mom was always warning me you never knew what someone else was going through. Perhaps this is why Katrina seemed so distant.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Glad the dick is gone.”

Or perhaps Katrina was simply an unpleasant person.

Music thundered around the stadium. Players spilled onto the ice for their pre-game warmup. I hadn’t seen Max close up in weeks and now I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off him. His skates and helmet added inches to his 6’4” frame, making him look like an ice warrior. He talked to another player, took a few shots on goal and appeared at home and relaxed on the ice.

Sowhywas I so damn nervous for him and his first game?

The entire arena stood for the Canadian and American anthems.

The game started out rough. Players shoved and pushed to get control of the puck. The plexiglass shook every time someone got body checked into the boards.

I would die before I admitted it to my father, but I loved hockey. I loved the sound of skates cutting on the ice. I loved the speed and intensity of the game. I loved how blood-thirsty this sport was.

Five minutes into the game, Max got a breakaway. He skated around the opposing defense and approached the net with unfathomable speed. He slapped the stick and shot the puck so fast, my eyes couldn’t follow it. The deep goal horn reverberated throughout the stadium and then the goal song played.

A few of his teammates crowded around him, hugging and congratulating him. The crowd’s response concerned me. They cheered but didn’t go wild.

Well, it was the start of the season. Perhaps the crowd needed warming up. Regardless, it thrilled me that Max had gotten the first goal of the pre-season.

Max, breathing hard, skated toward the bench. He appeared impossibly big and sweaty. As if he could sense me, his eyes lifted to where I sat. My breath caught in my throat as he held my gaze for an extended couple of seconds before he moved to the bench. I crossed my arms over my waist, thrilled that he had noticed me.

Which was silly and so school-girlish. Still. It elated me far more than it should have.

“So, how long have you been working here?” I tried again to makeconversation with Katrina.

“Look, Ro-r-y.” She used a disdainful three entire syllables to say my name. “We don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“I don’t need another ass to kiss and you don’t have enough room on your ass for another pair of lips.”

My face flamed as I stared at the ice. Her rudeness shocked me, but for all I knew, Dad set her up to test my ability to maintain professionalism in the face of extraordinary rudeness. “A professional relationship is fine with me, Katrina.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes.

No one could be that rude, could they?

I focused on the game, studying the various plays they made. I made a mental note about which player lineups worked and which lineups struggled. The crowd roared with every breakaway. It was a thrilling game and every time Max stepped onto the ice, I felt pride at his extraordinary speed and agility.

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