Clearly I did a very good job at hiding it. Not.
Sawyer steps into the row of seats first, followed by Autumn, me, then Carter.
Fuckme,it’s cold in here. I know Carter told us to wrap up warm, but I underestimated his words and regret not bringing gloves and a scarf. I shiver a little as the cold from the seat radiates up my spine as I sit down.
"Anyone else regretting their clothing choices, or is it just me? I know you said it would be cold, but fuck…" I look to my right at Carter, then at Autumn and Sawyer on my left. In typical Sawyer fashion, he’s wearing jeans and nothing but a t-shirt. No jacket, no gloves, nothing sensible.
"I'm fine, I don't know what the big deal is. It isn't even cold in here?" He says the last bit almost as a question. I look at mybest friend sitting next to me and roll my eyes so hard that I think I just caught sight of my brain for a second.
"That's because you are an anomaly, dearest husband." Autumn has a big jacket on, with jeans tucked into her boots. Hat, a scarf, and some cute little mittens, all of which covers every available patch of skin apart from her eyes and nose.
"Hey, these are good seats." I don't know much about hockey, but I do know that being seated directly behind the players probably means this is a good view to have.
"That's why I picked them. It didn't happen by accident, you know." Carter grins at me as I shuffle in my seat trying to generate some warmth. "You'll warm up soon, don't worry." He nudges me playfully in the rib.
"I hope so, big guy, otherwise I'm going to find a player to warm up with." I smirk at him in return, and he narrows his eyes at me slightly, trying his hardest not to laugh at me.
The Glass players start to fill the box in their navy and turquoise kit. Their logo is a hammer hitting a block of ice with shards of ice flying off it. A tall, handsome redhead with a beard bangs on the glass to get Carter's attention.
"Fuck, we miss you, buddy! Come back!" he shouts through the glass with a grin. "Oh, hey." He turns on the charm when he sees me sitting next to Carter and presses a hand to his heart then against the plexiglass in front of my face and mouths “wow”atme.
Carter reaches out quicker than I knew possible and smacks the glass, making the man flinch a little. "Back off, Kingy, you prick. Focus on your game, not on the girls, yeah?" He beams at his old teammate.
"Oh. Well. That was…nice," I say with a shit-eating grin, not so quietly basking in the attention.
"Yeah, he's a good guy, but he's also young and stupid. He needs to focus on his slapshot, not on women," Carter says a little too quickly.
"Well, he can focus on my slapshot as much as he likes," I turn to face Autumn and she’s laughing at me.
Sawyer involves himself in the conversation. "Hook her up, brother. He can practice his moves on Alice."
"Like fuck will I." Carter gets up from his seat. "I'm going to get drinks."
"Oops. Looks like someone poked the bear," Autumn whispers to her husband, then looks at me and rolls her eyes as Carter pushes through the crowds of people.
"Was it something I said?" I throw my hands up in the air and press my mouth together, trying to stifle the laugh that’s threatening to escape.
The teams start to fill the ice and one player in particular commands a roar of cheers and applause from the crowd. ThenameDe Lucaemblazoned across the back of his purple jersey.
This guy I know. Well, I don't know him, but he's the guy who was at the office for a meeting with Anna yesterday. I suddenly remember that Brenna and her husband, Jake, are here somewhere tonight too. I should probably shoot her a text, but I'd like to avoid any more questions about Carter if I can. I'll catch up with her on Monday instead.
The lights dim and strobes fly across the ice. Carter gets back to the seat just in time for the… Kick off? Ice off? Whistle?
At the end of the second period, the score is 2–1 for the Seals. The Glass cannot get past De Luca in the net, and Carter is riled up for his team. He keeps bashing the glass, shouting at the refs for making what he says, are terrible calls. I haven't seen him like this before, and it’s actually really sexy to see how much passion he has for hockey. He's inadvertently drawn attention to himself with his outbursts and keeps appearing on the screens during breaks in play. He waves to the camera as he does. He loves the attention. It doesn't matter what he says. This is his environment. I wish I'd seenhimplay the game before he retired.
Honestly, though, I thought there would be blood, fights,drama, and it's been quite tame so far. A couple of penalties for crosschecking and tripping, which have been described to me in great detail, but this is not what I expected for a hockey game. I don't really know what I expected, but I thought it would be more…violent.
"Are you having fun?" Carter asks me excitedly and squeezes my leg with his large hand. We both look down at the same time to where his hand connects with my pants, then back at each other, and he pulls his hand away like he's touched fire. "Sorry. I'm excited." He looks a little nervous as he pulls away.
"It's cute," I reply, squeezing his leg back in return.
He flexes his thigh under my hand and holy-fucking-shit. This guy is solid. I try not to think too much about it, because if I do, then I'll explore an option that really shouldn't be explored.
Shortly after the start of period three, King, my redheaded friend from earlier, gets tripped by one of the Seals. His head hits the ice and no matter where you are in the rink,everyonehears the sound it makes. His helmet flies off and skids across the ice, and gasps and whistles going off signify the break in play.
King isn't moving, at all. This looks serious. Everyone sits up a little straighter in their seats, trying to look for signs of movement. The team medic, a short, curvy redheaded woman, is on the ice, trying to assess the seriousness of the injury. There are players everywhere, trying to check on their teammate andmake sense of what just happened.
Boos and jeers reverberate around the glass and the players are still scuffling.