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Tamara—going all the way back to when I was a senior and working myself sick on a final project—wanted me to find more balance and maybe even a boyfriend. Balance hadn’t really existed for my parents because they’d always worried about money.

“Mr. Murray?” I turned and the Detroit PR guy—what was his name?—came down the stairs. This needed to be quick. The fastest skater competition started in a few minutes. I wouldn’t miss that. “Do you mind if we talk for a quick minute? I’d love to highlight you on Instagram.”

Normally, I wanted to be prepared if I had to do anything for the media. Speaking wasn’t my strong suit, but I could pull it together when I had too and if I rehearsed. But doing this would get a mention of the company out there and that couldn’t hurt.

“Um. Okay. Sure. What did you have in mind? I just don’t want to, um, miss the next event.”

“It’ll be super quick. We can do it right here and use the rink as the background.”

I stood and remembered my super casual attire—Detroit sweatshirt with Kyle’s number on the back and jeans. Not exactly camera-ready. But I represented the team today, and maybe that was better as a local CEO who was also a major fan.

“Hello again from the All-Star Skills Competition. We’re just a few minutes away from the fastest skater competition where we hope to see our own Kyle Pressgrove take the win. I’m with Austin Murray, CEO of Austin Murray Digital Design. What are you looking forward to this weekend?”

I decided to split my focus between David and the camera, which was held by someone David hadn’t introduced. I swallowed the nerves that rattled through me anytime I did something like this and dove in. “With the All-Star Game this close to Detroit, I couldn’t resist coming down and cheering on our home team. Of course the All-Star Game is such an elite game, and I’m looking forward to the high level of hockey.”

“And how do you feel about the Arsenal’s chances for playoffs this year?”

“They’re looking good. If they keep grinding out these well-played games, I expect us to be in great shape for the post-season. There’s nothing better than watching playoff hockey, especially at home, so I’m hoping for a long postseason.”

The announcer said the skating competition was about to begin and explained how it worked. I kept myself from turning back to the ice, just in case David tossed out another question.

“Thank you, Austin, for taking a couple of minutes. We’ll let you settle in to cheer Kyle on.”

“Thank you.” I held my smile until the phone lowered.

“Thanks again.” David was ridiculously cheerful. He probably had to be for his job. I had to stop myself from taking a step back because of the intensity. “I’ll see you at the auction later.”

We nodded, and he bounded up the stairs with his assistant. I turned back to the ice and sat just as the skaters were introduced.

My voice grew hoarse from cheering as Kyle’s name was called, prompting some sideways glances from the guy that sat on my right. I didn’t care; I was a fan, and I wanted the world to know.

Gameplay was fast, but it was nothing compared to the speed these guys shot around the rink. Each skater started at the far edge of the oval, and there were cones and tires set out at the corners to mark the lane. With nothing in the way—no puck to manage or defensemen to dodge—the skaters went all out.

Was there a world record for things like this? How did they compare to speed skaters? That was something to Google later.

Kyle went fourth among eight competitors. He looked relaxed but intense as he set himself at the start line. The scoreboard screen showed him up close, and since he didn’t wear a helmet, I appreciated his handsome, determined face.

His feet were in constant motion once he started. It was a wonder, given how far he leaned over in the corners, that he didn’t wipe out—the skater from Carolina actually had. Kyle finished in 13.378 seconds, putting him into the lead.

Kyle held the lead until the final skater, who made the loop in 13.310. He’d lost by the tiniest margin. Despite that, he gave a fist pump into the air and gave the Edmonton player a clap on the back. Both guys beamed. Of course, in a competition where the gap between first and last place was less than a second and a quarter, second place was damn good.

Having seen a bit of Kyle’s personality for myself, the happiness didn’t come as a surprise. He always had it in interviews, but he had it in person too. A bit of a sheepishness sometimes, but always positive.

There was another hour to go of the skills competition, and then it would be back to the hotel to wait for the auction to begin.

A flutter of nerves bubbled up in my chest. I managed to not sound too skittish last night, but could I do it for an entire date?

What if we clicked? Could I find the courage to ask to see him again? Would he be open to that? I knew he was gay, but am I his type? Physically, he more than fit my ideal, and so far, his personality was a winner. He seemed much the same kind, confident guy he was in high school.

He also worked hard, and that meshed with me too. Obviously, he had practices and quite a bit of travel during the months-long hockey season. What did he even get up to during the summer?

I shook my head and pushed my glasses up. This was a ridiculous train of thought. I had no time for a relationship. Hell, even if I had time, I didn’t really know how to have one—the hazards of being a controlling workaholic.

Deciding what our auction date could be should be my focus, not thinking about a second one.

The options were many, but I wanted to make sure to do something we’d both like. Technically, the dates were supposed to happen Saturday night after the game or Sunday while everyone was still in Chicago. My flight didn’t go out until Sunday night, so we had a bit of time.

The nerves tried to flare up once more, but I tamped them down. No matter what happened, I’d get to enjoy some time with my favorite player.