Page 47 of Wicked Minds
“Mmm, several weeks of uninterrupted reading time… I could totally get behind that.”
“Oh, dinner’s ready,” I say, changing the subject as the timer goes and I get up to plate the food.
When we’ve finished eating, I grab the TV remote and flick it on. Tonight’s hockey game flashes onto the screen and Isabella cries out, “Mommy, look! Hockey!”
Ava chuckles at her daughter and says, “I see that, baby.” To me, she explains, “Isabella is crazy about hockey at the moment.I gave her my phone to watch TikTok videos one day and she somehow ended up on ice hockey ones. The teams were doing these challenges and attempting to copy figure skater moves. Anyway, she found it hilarious and now she’s obsessed.”
“Is that right?” I chuckle and Isabella nods.
“They did this one where they had to step over their stick while in their skates, and one player kept falling on his bum.” She laughs hysterically like it’s the funniest thing ever.
“Have you ever watched a real game?” I ask her. When she shakes her head, I move to sit beside her on the sofa. “Oh, well, you’ve been missing out. I just got into hockey recently too, and I love watching the games.”
“You have?”
“Yup. You wanna sit and watch this one with me, and maybe we can see it live next time.”
“Oh, Riley, you don’t have to do that,” Ava begins.
“It’s fine. A friend of mine is on the team at Halston. I’ll have to ask him, but I’m sure he can wrangle us some tickets, even if they’re nosebleed seats.”
She smiles gratefully as Isabella jumps up and down. “Yes! Mommy, please. Can we go?”
“If Riley can get the tickets, then we’ll go,” she agrees, laughing.
“YESSSS!!!” Isabella squeals as the opening music thunders through the speakers in preparation for announcing the team’s players.
“Oh, here we go. If you watch, you’ll see the players emerging from the tunnel. They always do a loop of the ice so they can wave at their fans before the game begins.”
One by one, the players spit out of the tunnels to thumping music and screaming fans. “See that one there,” I say when Logan appears, his charismatic grin fully on as he waves at thecrowd. “That’s my friend. He’s going to play professional hockey one day.”
“Wow, really?” Isabella gasps.
“Yup.” He may not have had an offer yet—at least, that I’m aware of—but I just know he will. Before he graduates from Halston, Logan will have been recruited to a professional team. It’s what he was born to do.
“Just a friend, huh?” Ava teases, and when I look at her, I find her watching me knowingly.
“Just a friend.”
Her smirk says she’s not buying my bullshit, and before she can ask any probing questions, I return my attention to the TV in time to see Logan skate toward where the cameraman is.
“What is he doing?” Ava asks.
I have no idea. He gets right up in the cameraman’s face and stares into the screen leaving me no choice but to soak in his chestnut eyes, his pupils enlarged with the adrenaline pumping through his body. After a moment, he smirks, and I huff out a laugh as he winks at the screen.
“Why do I get the impression that’s for you?”
Refusing to indulge Ava, I continue to watch the screen as Logan skates away, and I catch sight of the back of his jersey.
“Holy, Riley. Why is that boy wearing your name on his jersey?”
I can’t answer her, too busy gaping at the screen as Logan skates over to join his teammates.
No. No way that just happened. Logan Astordid notjust get on the ice tonight with my name stitched on his jersey.
Except he most definitely did because now even the sportscasters are discussing it, wondering whoRileyis and what she means to Logan.
“Your pink cheeks confirm it’s undeniably you and not some other Riley he’s making a statement for.”
