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Chapter Three
Gracie
“Okay, so that was a little weird, and a lot creepy,” Nikki seems dazed and is mumbling as she walks up behind me.
“What was?” I ask, meeting her glassy eyes in the mirror as I add a few finishing fluffs to my hair.
“Some lady called, said she was with Freeze Hospitality, or something like that. She wanted to confirm that I’d be using both my seats for tonight’s game.”
“I’ll bet they’re calling around to see if anyone can’t make it, so they can give the seats to someone else. No biggie, nothing to worry about.” I give her reflection a reassuring smile.
She shrugs, an iffy smile of her own slowly forming. “Just odd they’ve never done it before, but you’re probably right. Okay then, you ready to go?”
“Yep.” I cap my lip gloss and pivot, ready as I’ll ever be.
Now her smile’s big and bright. “Just like that, huh? No trying to talk me into doing something else? No bitching about the cold?”
“Nope.”
“All rhetorical questions, G,” she laughs. “Knew you’d be more than up for another game before I even suggested it. Oh”—she stops at the front door, glancing back at me over her shoulder— “and just in case you were wondering, yes, I did notice the lack of twelve layers over your low-cut sweater this evening.”
I flip her off and follow her out the door, ignoring her ongoing laughter as we climb into her car. So, I didn’t balk at going to a second game; what’s the big deal? And yes, I might’ve put some extra effort into my appearance tonight. Again, why’s that noteworthy? Because Nikki’s a pain in the ass; that’s why.
I’m a single, adult woman… who hasn’t been on a decent date, or had sex, in almost three years, dammit! Eight-hundred-and-ninety-seven days, to be exact! So yeah, should the sexiest man I’ve ever seen happen to flirt with me again tonight, I’m gonna do everything in my power to encourage him not to skate away this time.
Well, he’ll probably need to skate away, because of the game and all… but if I have my way, he’ll skate back too.
And although she loves teasing me, Nikki’s all for my plan, and its possible perks—not able to hold it in any longer, as we park and head toward the arena. “You know, you never got around to guessing my favorite player the other night.”
“Didn’t I?” It’s Nikki’s turn for some ribbing. So, not only do I play coy, I add in an extra dash of torture. “Oh, that’s right. I decided not to risk it because I was torn, still am, between my winker, Brewer, and number Fifty-Two. Thinking about checking his fine ass out a little closer tonight.”
Right on cue, she halts mid-step and gasps. “What? No, no, no, selfish. You only get one, and it’s not gonna be Lance Fox. He’s mine.”
I’m aware—exactly why I said it—and her reaction’s even better than expected. Too bad I can’t prolong her suffering just a bit longer, but I also can’t hold in my snickering. “You make it too easy, Nik.”
“Bitch,” she grumbles, shoulder-bumping me. “Now move your ass, funny gal. I don’t want to miss warm-ups.”
Neither do I.
****
I should’ve known better than to get my hopes up so high—once-in-a-lifetime moments are called such for a reason— emphasis on the once. It’s already the first break thingy, where they call the kids out on the ice to play a few games… and nothing.
All through warm-ups and the first period, he didn’t so much as glance my way. And now, I really wish I would’ve worn a coat, or two, because I’m freezing to damn death in this stupid sweater he hasn’t even noticed! In fact… “Hey Nik, would you be mad if I wanted to leave? I’m cold, and-”
“Disappointed? Pouting?” she finishes for me honestly, versus whatever excuse I was gonna make. “Yeah, I would be, but only because that’s some bullshit. You’re a strong, independent, gorgeous woman, whose self-worth has never, nor will ever, be defined by the attention, or lack thereof, of a man! We’re staying. And dammit, we’re gonna have fun!”
Alrighty then… guess I’m staying. And maybe marching in some sort of Women’s Movement Parade later. Hopefully, we’re gonna burn our bras too, because again, I. AM. FREEZING… so a fire would be a nice bonus.
“Miss Everett?” Both our heads turn at the sound of her name, to find a smiley usher standing beside us.
“Yes?” Nik answers him with a question.
“I was told to give you this.” He hands her a small envelope. “Enjoy the rest of the game, ladies.”
“What is it?” I ask anxiously, earning myself a sarcastic ‘really’ glare from Nikki.
“Since I seem to have misplaced my see through paper superpower”—another saucy look my way— “maybe I should open it? I probably won a random drawing by seat number or something. Please, please, let it be a ‘meet the players’ pass,” she chants as she rips it open. I try to read the letter over her shoulder when she has it out and unfolded, but like a brat, she shifts away so I can’t see.
