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“I’ll be right back.” He squeezed my shoulder and excused himself past the people in our row.
Within seconds, I lost sight of him.
I returned my attention to the game. McClanahan was tearing up the ice—as usual. He scored the second goal of the game and the arena erupted in cheers.
I filmed the reaction of the crowd as they waved and smiled at my camera. We could have sat closer, but I wanted tonight’s videos to capture the feel of the crowd. The pulse of the fans as they watched us sail to victory.
The Evergreens were playing the number one team in the western division. The Frostbites from Bend were unstoppable. At least until this game. I knew our guys could pull out a win, but with Mac not playing his best, the chances were looking grim.
I glanced around for Bash and saw him weaving down the stairs to our section. He waved me over, holding a jersey in his hand.
“Here. Put this on.”
It wasn’t just any jersey. It boasted a bright white #24. Mac’s number.
I slipped it over my shirt as fast as I could and willed Mac to turn around. He was fuming, facing the ice. The slump in his shoulders broke my heart, and I wanted to shout his name until he saw me.
But he was resolutely facing forward.
Bash stared at him with me before sighing. “Come on.”
He grasped my hand and rushed me out of our section, closer to the bench.
Mac still didn’t look up.
Bash waved to Coach Locke, who motioned for us to come closer. He tapped Mac on the shoulder and spun him around to face me.
I pressed my hand to the plexiglass and my heart jumped out of my chest when Mac saw me. The defeat left his eyes as he scrambled over to press his hand against mine.
His eyes dropped to the jersey and his chest rose like he was taking the first real breath he’d taken all day.
Coach Locke called his name and pointed to the ice. Mac blew me a kiss with his gloved hand and I caught it, holding my hand to my heart as he got on the ice for his next shift.
His skates slashed across the ice as his confidence replenished itself.
“I was wrong,” Bash whispered close to my ear.
“It happens occasionally,” I teased, bumping him with my hip.
Bash shrugged and tucked his hands in his pockets. I followed his lead and did the same. My hands were a lot safer in my pockets, where I wouldn’t be tempted to put one around Bash.
Putting on Mac’s jersey and coming up to the bench all but sealed my announcement as his girlfriend. So many winks had been thrown my way when Mac blew me a kiss. I knew the guys would be bursting when the game ended, asking us a million questions.
“How’s this going to work?”
“What?” Bash asked.
“This whole relationship thing? Look.”
I held up my phone and showed him the comments pouring in. The Evergreens were being tagged in videos of Mac and I with only the plexiglass between us. Gossip sites were already running with it.
“This is hockey—I thought we had some anonymity compared to other sports, but this is happening instantly—”
“Mac’s one of the top players in the country. He’s also hot. People pay attention to him.”
I groaned and switched my phone back to the camera. “I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”
“Look at how good Mac’s playing. You didn’t make a mistake.”
