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When Leo is within six feet of the net, he draws back, fakes, and then lets the puck hit his right skate before slipping it in the net behind Cage, their goalie.
Ami nudges me with her elbow. “I’m going to get some nachos.”
Usually this is when I will go with her and get a beer or have her get me a Sprite to mix with my beverage I’ve snuck in with me. Just the thought of either of those makes me shudder after last night.
But nachos… those sound delicious. I pull out a twenty from my wallet. “Can you get me some too?”
She pushes the money back at me. “I got it.”
“Thanks.” When she leaves, I hear a stick hit the glass in front of me, and the girls begin to scream. Leo has smacked the glass in front of us with his stick. I look up at him to see him staring back at me, directly at me, not the girls. He does that head nod thing, and I can’t help the warmth flooding through me. I smile when he does and winks. I may have been trying to ignore him, but I can’t help but laugh that here, the star player of the Blackhawks, is trying to get the attention of a girl.
From the time I was five, I’ve been to nearly every Chicago Blackhawks game. I’ve lived in Chicago my entire life. Born and raised. The sights, the sounds of twenty-thousand fans—hockey players chasing a puck around the ice, slamming one another into the boards, fans cheering, the music—all of it completes an experience.
The rink became like a second home to me, a place where I’m at peace. I’ve heard people say that they are happiest when on vacation or at the beach, or visiting family. Me, I’m the happiest watching elite athletes do what they do best. Play hockey. Leo is an extension of that feeling. He completes the entire package for me.
The reason I’ve been able to go to so many games is because of my father. He’s naturally an avid hockey fan, played professionally for years, and retired as a sports announcer. He travels around now to most of the games, but I still have these season tickets for the Blackhawks. Something I will never trade for any amount of money. And the only gift I’ve ever accepted from the bastard.
Ami returns shortly before the opening ceremony with two nachos and Cokes for both of us. “Ladies and Gentlemen…”
The crowd around us roars to life, all on their feet as the arena goes black and the spotlight shines down on the entrance where the players come through.
“Stranglehold” comes over the speakers as the red spotlights flash on the ice. I listen as each player is introduced, Ami screaming as they announce the starting line. “Number five… Evan Masen… Number eight… Leo Orting….”
“Every time I see him now…” Ami laughs, her hand over her mouth as she chews slowly on the chip she ate. “I think about him holding a baby.”
“Will you stop it? I don’t even know if I am pregnant.”
She rolls her eyes, dipping her chips into her nacho cheese. “I think you are.”
I might have my suspicions just like her, but I don’t want to think about it tonight. I focus on the game. I love hockey. Everything about it. Luckily it’s a nice distraction from reality.
Once the game is underway, Leo keeps up his style for the night, scoring two goals with assists from Evan and Remy. Both victory celebrations are made right in front of me.
On purpose? Probably, knowing him. He’s like a little kid on the playground, trying to get the pretty girl’s attention. I haven’t seen him this desperate to get me to look at him since the time I gave him head in his car after the first night we met. Yep. First meeting and we fucked.
The Blackhawks end up losing 4-2. A sense of disappointment swirls in the air of the United Center, everyone’s heads down as they leave. It’s depressing because, since last season’s Stanley Cup win, it’s apparent this season isn’t going to be a repeat with their 25-26 record.
Evan and Ami give me a ride home, with Ami pressuring me to take the damn test every five seconds.
“Leave me alone,” I whisper, making her turn around in the seat. She laughs, knowing if Evan, who has barely said anything, hears us, he might say something to Leo. Not tonight though. When they lose, Evan is quiet and assessing what they need to work on for the next game to bring home a win. He’s a bit methodical like that.
They drop me off at my apartment, and Ami immediately gets out, circling around the back of the car. Evan sticks his head out the window. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back,” she says, leaning in to kiss Evan. “I’m gonna walk her up.”
“You don’t have to do that.” I stand outside the car, wondering what she’s doing. It’s midnight. Doesn’t she want to get some sleep before our plane leaves in six hours?
She stands in front of me with an excited expression. Oh, now I get it. I push her back toward their Audi. “Go make your boy feel better. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“But I want to see what it says.”
I’m stalling. “It says to take it in the morning. Fresh pee.”
“Fine.” She pouts, reaching for the handle of the door. “But you better tell me in the morning.”
“I will.”
When I get up to my apartment, I almost take it but instead stare at the box on my nightstand. Glancing at my phone before bed, I expect to see a message from Leo, but there’s nothing. Just one from Ami begging me to tell her first thing in the morning.