Page 82 of Breaking Point
I can see it
the other?
GRAYSON
you’ll have to butter me up to unlock that one
My cheeks are aching by the time I enter the arena. I’m glad he messaged me; every buzzing bee that was taking flight beneath my skin has settled to a low hum. It’s not entirely gone but I’ve never had someone be able to calm me so quickly when I’m in a nervous state.
My breath puffs in front of my face, the cold of the arena seeping into my pores as I cling to my oversized hoodie. My fingers instinctively tap against my thigh in a set of threes as I make my way down, down…and down. I’m shocked by how close the seats are. I know he said rink side but I didn’t think?—
I stop suddenly in the walkway, apologizing to whoever slammed into me from behind.
I’m seated directly behind the home bench.
Plopping into my seat, the second of reprieve I felt explodes into a whirlwind of chaos as every situation that could go wrong slams into my mind.
Will his teammates ask me questions over the board?
Are people going to stare at me?
Do they even realize I’m seated here?
Does Grayson?
What if they talk about me and don’t realize I’m in earshot?
“Bella?” A small female voice draws my attention.
A blonde takes the seat beside me, a kind smile stretchingacross her face. She’s adorned in an IceHawks jersey and beanie, the jersey practically swallowing her small frame.
“I’m Cindy, Asher O’Connor’s girlfriend.” She gives me a small knowing smile. “Grayson sat you beside me and told me to look out for you.”
The bees fall and stumble in their flight path.
“He did?” I ask, shocked.
She snorts. “Of course. He takes care of everyone. He wouldn’t leave you to the wolves.” She cranes her neck, looking at something behind us. “And if you ask me, this is much better than the drama that fills that box.”
She must be talking about the wives and girlfriends box upstairs. I wonder why she doesn’t like it.
Settling into the seat, she turns to me, her gaze roaming. “I can see it.”
My head shakes at the speed in which she changes topics. “See what?”
“Why he likes you.” Her pink lips tip up into a smile, her blue eyes practically glowing. “You’re his type to a T.”
I frown. “I am?” At the look she gives me, I quickly recover. “That’s reassuring, I wouldn’t want to be dating someone if I weren’t their type.” To redirect from my slip-up, I ask, “How long have you and Asher been together?”
That was something I was able to do—memorize his teammates’ names and faces. If I’m supposedly dating an ice hockey player, I should know their friends and colleagues.
A dreamy look comes over her face. “We grew up with each other actually. My mom and his mom are best friends, so it feels like longer than it has been, but around five years.”
“That sounds adorable and like you’d have a lot of blackmail on him.”
She winks. “Oh, you have no idea the dirt I have on that man.” She sighs heavily. “But he has just as much on me, a double-edged sword.” Pulling out candy from her purse, she offers me some. I decline, still too unsettled to eat. “How did you and Grayson meet?”
My eyes land on the mascots that skate out, warming up the crowd. “I started working as his assistant actually.”
