Page 61 of The Save

My mom gave us an “Awww! You’re adorable!” look, and I silently apologized to my friends with shoulder squeezes. “You’re so lucky to have such good friends. I wish I could’ve gone to University. Well, technically I attended for a semester . . . “

Mom went on about her experience, and I was glad to let her regale us with tales of her past. That meant she wasn’t scanning the bench and possibly noticing that there was a familiar face there in a button-up shirt, holding a clipboard.

From this vantage point, it was hard to see his features, especially since his head was bowed much of the time. Once the game started, we’d hopefully be home free.

We chatted until puck drop, then cheered as the Outlaws won the first face off against Kamloops.

"This is way better than I expected," Mom commented five minutes into the first. "They hit hard, and they’re so fast."

I laughed and took a sip of my pop. "Did you think this was going to look like PeeWee?"

My mom continued on like she’d never seen a game before, but truly, maybe it had been close to five years. Since Chase left, I realized. She commented on the goalie’s reflexes, Rob’s handling, and the kid from the opposing team who had a mullet and apparently reminded her of her high school boyfriend.

I’d almost forgotten all about Chase until midway through the second period, during a particularly long delay.

She leaned in toward the ice, her eyes narrowing like a hawk that just spotted prey. "Is that?—?"

"Ohmygosh I love it when he does that." I pointed at the other end of the ice where Tim, our goalie, seemed to be feathering a nest right outside the blue paint.

"That's Chase Wilson." Mom's voice was sharp. She turned to look at me. "Maddie. That's Chase–"

"I know." I blew out a breath, trying not to cower as she stared at me with the intensity of the sun through a magnifying glass.

"We talked on the phone. I told you he'd accepted a job, and you didn't say anything."

I winced. "You were talking about other things, I didn't want to interrupt."

She gave me the full eyeball. "Why wouldn't you have said something when I showed up? Or anytime in the last month? I—" She sucked in a breath and looked at me, the wheels turning in her head. If I was good at assessing data, my mom was an expert at reading me.

Shit.I shouldn’t have kept Chase a secret. I should’ve casually mentioned that I’d seen him on campus, because she knew I came to the games. She know there was no way I wouldn’t have noticed him, which meant I was keeping it from her purposefully, which I was.

"Are you twoinvolved?" She lowered her voice on the last word. “Or did he—when he lived with us, did you ever?—”

“Mom, stop. No."

"Why else wouldn't you say something? We had an entire conversation?—"

"Can we not do this right now?" I hissed, grateful that Crystal and Shar were pretending they hadn't heard anything, but the people behind us weren't so accommodating. They watched us like we were their personal time out entertainment. I pointed back to the ice. "It's starting. Can we talk about this after?"

I scanned the bench as the Outlaws took to the ice. Chase stood with his arms crossed, his clipboard tucked under one elbow. He looked focused. Strong. Sexy as hell.

"Have you seen him? Talked with him?"

I swallowed, my mouth so dry it hurt. "A little."

Mom leaned back on the bench, shaking her head. "I can't believe you didn't tell me."

I searched for an excuse and latched onto the first thing I could think of. I lowered my voice as the ref dropped the puck in the Outlaw's zone. "I didn't want to hurt you, Mom. That time was rough. I figured it was better to let it stay in the past."

Her expression softened a little. "Well, I wouldn't want to see his father again, but Chase . . . I always had a soft spot for him."

That made two of us.

Thankfully, she dropped back into hockey talk for the next two periods. She yelled at the refs when Rory went down hard after a blindside check and curled in on himself near the boards. He skated off under his own power, but his shoulder hung limp.

Shar covered her mouth. “Is that a separated shoulder?”

“Let's hope not.” I muttered. Maybe he'd just hit his funny bone.

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