Page 16 of Bagging the Blueliner
Jake:Are you coming?
I smiled, pleased he took the bait. I was using him, but I would make sure to set him up with a willing partner at the club. Jake would have a very pleasant evening indeed, even if it wasn’t by my hand—or mouth.
Wouldn’t miss it. Post-game at the club is my favorite *Winking emoji*
Jake:I’m sure I can convince a few guys to come out tonight. Thanks for the tip. See you there.
I was giving myself a mental high five, when Natalie peered over at my phone. “Who are you texting? You can’t stop smiling.”
Locking my phone, I shoved it back into my pocket. “Oh, just Jake, the travel coordinator for Indy. Trying to get him to meet us at Spades tonight. You coming?”
Natalie stared at me in shock. “Are you kidding?”
I shrugged. “Why not? It’s Friday night. Let’s have some fun.”
Tilting her head toward her four children, she stated the obvious. “Friday night or not, I can’t go out any time I want. Those days are long gone. I’m exhausted. I’m not even sure I can muster up the strength to bring the kids to tomorrow night’s game.”
Nodding, I mused, “Last single friend left. Check.”
Natalie softened, remorse written on her face. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
I waved her off. “I know. We are in different seasons of life right now. I get it. Girls’ night soon? When Amy gets back?”
“Sounds great. Now, tell me about Jake.”
“Nothing to tell. We met last week on our trip out to Indy.”
Overeager, she pressed, “And . . .”
“And what?”
“You asked him to come to Spades tonight. That has to mean something.”
Natalie had never approved of my plan to hook up with a hockey player, so telling her I was using Jake to get closer to the players from another team would only earn me a lecture. Not wanting to lie to my best friend, I skirted the truth the best I could. “He’s nice, I guess. Played high school hockey and is trying to stay close to the game.”
Bouncing on her feet, she couldn’t contain her excitement. “That’s great! That’s exactly what you need—someone who has close ties to the game but won’t cause your dad’s head to explode.”
“Uh-huh.”
I didn’t want some wannabe clinging to his past glory. I wanted the real thing.
Warmups finished with the teams heading back to their locker rooms, so Natalie gathered her kids to head up to the familysuite. With her hands full, she could only give me a little bump with her shoulder, winking as she whispered, “Break a leg.”
My friends and family were always my biggest supporters. They begged me to reconsider pursuing a career in music, saying I was too talented to let it go to waste. I used not wanting to relocate closer to the best recording studios as an excuse, but in truth, I was afraid of rejection. The music industry was cutthroat, and I loved singing. What if I went out there and they tainted the euphoric feeling of performing, putting doubt in my head? It wasn’t worth the risk.
If that meant singing the anthem at Comets’ home games was the extent of my music career, so be it. The rink was my safe space, and if this was my sole concert venue, featuring only two songs—both the American and Canadian anthems—that was enough for me.
Waiting in the wings, the lights in the arena dimmed, and the pre-game lights show with accompanying video drew the attention of the crowd. Looking up, I watched alongside the twenty thousand fans as the oversized video screen showed clips from seasons past, featuring our present players.
The hairs on my arms raised, and chills ran down my spine. This never got old.
With the lights still dimmed, both teams’ players took the ice, taking a few laps before starting lineups were announced. The Comets always ran with the same starters, barring an injury.
Starting at Center—Jaxon Slate.
Starting at Right Wing—Benji Mills.
Starting at Left Wing—Levi Nixon.
