Page 26 of Practice Makes Perfect
Tap-tap-tap-stomp-stomp-stomp.
The entire time, his eyes remain locked on mine,thatsmile still in place.
And then he points at me, causing everyone in the arena to look at me.
I want the ice to crack open and swallow me whole. Instead, I turn away so quickly I almost give myself whiplash, pushing through the last few spectators to reach Lea, who’s sitting rigidly in her seat, knees pressed tightly together, looking pale and distressed.
“Oh, thank god,” she whispers when she sees me.
“Here,” I hand her the bag. “I’ve got you covered.”
Lea clutches the satchel to her chest. “You’re a lifesaver.”
I glance over my shoulder. Linc is back in position, focused on the game again.
Phew.
Glad to be anonymous again, I focus on Lea. “Bathroom, now,” I say.
As she nods, the crowd around us groans collectively as the opposing team nearly scores. No one pays attention to us as I help Lea stand, positioning myself strategically behind her as we shuffle toward the aisle. Hopefully, if she has leaked through, we can sort the situation without anyone ever knowing.
“Walk casually,” she hisses. “But also hurry.”
“Those are contradictory instructions,” I point out, but I do my best to comply.
I keep pace behind her while monitoring her backside for any visible evidence of disaster, and we make it to the bathroom without incident. Lea disappears into a stall, the satchel clutched in a white-knuckled grip, while I lean against the sink, finally exhaling.
“So that was hot…” Lea calls from behind the stall door.
I say nothing.
“You know, Dec says they have a tradition of doing that when they like a girl…”
Nope, not going there.
“Iswearhe was pointing at?—”
“I don’t want to know,” I cut her off.
“Fine, fine.” The toilet flushes, and Lea emerges. “Crisis averted.”
I nod toward her jeans. “All good?”
“All good, thanks.” She washes her hands. “So the Linc thing…”
I roll my eyes and sigh.
“Dec says Linc has never done that before foranygirl…”
I feel my expression shuttering. “Lea…”
“What? I’m just saying. It’s objectively hot.” She dries her hands, giving me a side-eye. “Come back to Dec’s apartment after the game? Linc might be there…”
I shake my head. “Thanks, but I’ve got a pile of reality TV waiting for me.”
“Reality TV over real life,” Lea sighs dramatically. “Typical.”
I shrug and we exit the bathroom, and I make the mistake of glancing toward the ice, where the players are setting up for a face-off. Linc is there, focused and intense, completely in his element. For a split second, I allow myself to admire how graceful he looks on the ice.
