Page 14

THIRTEEN

willa

“Where are you going?”

I freeze in my tracks. Turning around, I see Belle and Jo heading in my direction. We just finished our last San Diego show, and I’m rushing to get to Declan’s game. He doesn’t know I’m coming since I wasn’t supposed to make a game until New York next week. Our show was supposed to be last night, but we had to move it to tonight due to some electricity issue the venue was having.

“I told you I have plans.” I shrug.

“Anything fun?” Belle asks, and I can tell she wants to tag along. Which means Kai would want to tag along. Then Cal would hear about it and tell Maverick who would also want to come. Then Cal would feel left out but wouldn’t go unless Harlow could come too. And Harlow would insist Jo be invited. It would be a disaster I don’t want to deal with while watching my fake husband play hockey.

“I’m going to a hockey game, remember?” Belle knows I love hockey, and the rest of the band knew I went to games during our tours in the past. So it was easy to be honest with them. About where I’m going, at least. The why is something I still haven’t figured out how to tell them. I need to figure it out before Thanksgiving, which is the deadline I gave myself. That’s two weeks from tomorrow.

“I’ll never get your obsession with that sport,” Belle says. “It’s cold and everything moves too fast. There’s no way to tell what’s happening.”

I laugh and give her a quick hug. “There is, if you pay attention.” Belle scrunches her nose. I look at the time on my phone. “I have to go. Warm-ups are almost over.”

“Are you staying out? The bus is leaving at eight tomorrow morning.” Jo raises an eyebrow, like my answer is going to determine something for her.

“I wasn’t planning on it. Should I text you if I’m going to be out past midnight, Mom?”

She rolls her eyes and starts walking away. “Eight on the dot or we leave without you,” she calls over her shoulder.

“Have fun tonight. Take one of the players home. Let loose. You’ve been just as stressed as the rest of us,” Belle says, winking at me.

“Did you just tell me I need to get laid?” I laugh. Belle shrugs as she walks past me into the dressing room to get her things. I follow her and grab my bag that has a better-quality wig and Declan’s jersey in it.

“Yup!”

“I’ll work on that. Don’t let the bus leave without me!” I yell as I run out the door.

“No promises,” she calls back.

“Your car is waiting at the back entrance, Willa.”

“Thanks, Nate!” I say, running past him.

I text Maggie the moment I’m in the car.

I’m on my way! I might be a little late!

Maggie

Don’t worry about it. I’ll wait out front for you. I got us front row seats! Don’t ask how. The guys are going to be so surprised!

I could kiss you.

That would REALLY surprise them.

I let out a surprise laugh. I’ve been texting Maggie a lot since we exchanged numbers at the first game. She’s really sweet and has a funny side that I wasn’t expecting.

I dig through my bag and quickly throw on my wig and jersey. “Shit. Where is it?” I mutter to myself as I blindly search for my wedding band. “Ah huh!” I yell, startling the driver.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” he asks.

“Yes. Sorry. I thought I had lost my wedding ring. Just found it,” I tell him, sliding the sparkly, diamond encrusted ring on my finger. He just nods and continues driving. I relax into my seat and smile.

“I’m so sorry!” I pant, running up to Maggie, where she’s standing at the entrance of the arena. “We hit traffic. I made my driver let me out and ran here.” I double over and grab my knees, sucking in air.

“Let’s go. We missed the first period and . . .” she pauses and bites her lip while dragging me through the arena and to our seats. She barely stopped long enough for someone to scan the tickets on her phone.

“What? What’s happening?” I ask, having mostly caught my breath. My hand is still in hers, and I’m letting her lead because she seems to know where to go.

“Your husband is kind of playing like complete garbage. He’s missing passes and skating like someone filled his skates with cement. They’re down two to zero already.”

My eyes widen in alarm. “Is he injured? He didn’t mention an injury. I talked to him right before I went on stage tonight.” I know his knees have been bothering him. He has ice on them more often than not.

“I’m not sure. I was watching the game on my phone while I waited. I wasn’t close enough to tell.”

We find our seats just in time for the start of the second period. I watch for all of a few seconds before I see what’s she’s talking about. Declan manages to miss an easy pass from Ivanov and get checked pretty hard into the boards in the first minute of play.

“What the hell is going on with him?” I mutter.

“He’s overhyped, that’s what.” I turn to the man next to me. The asshole is in a San Diego jersey.

“Oh, is he? Is that what you were saying last year when he was the one leading the team in goals? Or maybe it was when he secured the playoff spot? No thanks to the rest of your shit team.”

“I. . . Well, he, uh — you see the thing is,” the man stutters, cheeks turning red.

“The thing is, he gave nine years to San Diego and suddenly he’s the villain because he’s now with Boston. Grow the fuck up.” I turn back to the game in time to watch Declan shoot and miss wildly.

“Maybe there’s something going on with his eyes,” Maggie says, watching him with genuine concern.

I stand and bang on the glass when Declan skates by. It could get me kicked out of the game, but the refs are on the other side of the ice trying to prevent Ivanov from punching one of the San Diego guys. Dec turns to the noise, his face pained, probably from how badly he’s playing. I watch as he sees me without seeing me, but then does a double take. The way his face lights up when he realizes it’s me will be imprinted in my memory for the rest of my life.

“Princess!” he yells, ripping his glove off and pressing his hand to the glass in front of me. I put my hand against the glass on the other side and smile.

“Get it together! This asshole wants you to lose,” I say and point with my thumb at the man next to me. Declan eyes him, and I can feel the man shrink under his stare.

“You got it, wife!” he yells just as the whistle blows. He skates back, quickly alerting Gideon that Maggie is here. Gideon beams at his wife before schooling his face back into game mode. They take their positions, and Gideon wins the face off. He passes it to Declan, who doesn’t miss it this time.

“Looks like he just needed you,” Maggie says with a small laugh. I watch Dec power his way past San Diego’s defense like they’re not even there and sink the puck right between their goalie’s knees. The goalie also happens to be Finn. And he does not look happy with his old roomie right now.

“That’s how you do it, hockey boy!” I scream. Maggie and I are jumping and hugging like they just won the Stanley Cup, her brown curls slapping me in the face. Not bringing the game to two to one. They’re not even winning.

Declan skates in front of me again and taps his heart. I tap mine and smile. Gideon is right next to him, smiling and making a heart with his gloved hands at Maggie.

I swear you can feel the mood in the entire arena change. Where it was light and happy before, the air is suddenly heavy with stress. San Diego was winning on their home ice against their old superstar player. Now they’re tied thanks to a goal by Ivanov with an assist by Gideon.

By the third period, the tension between Finn and Dec is at its peak. Declan has taken all the shots on goal since the period started. Which is a mistake because Finn knows how Declan plays better than anyone. The shot through his knees was lucky. I wish I could text him and tell him to let someone else try.

“Will I get kicked out if I go over to the bench and try to talk to the players?” I ask Maggie.

“Definitely,” she says and laughs at me like I was making a joke.

Our seats are close to San Diego’s goal. So the next time Finn covers the puck and the whistle blows, I wave my arms to get Declan’s attention. He sees me and quickly skates over. There’s no way he’ll hear me now with how loud the crowd has become. So I make a line across my throat with my fingers in a stop gesture and then point at Gideon and Ivanov and nod. Declan frowns, and I quickly do it again. He nods like he understands, and I point at Finn, make an x with my arms and point back at him. I watch Dec’s eyes light up with understanding, and then he quickly frowns. He knows what I’m saying, but he wants to score. There’s no time for anything else because he has to get back in line.

“Do you think that worked?” Maggie asks. I shrug because I have no idea if he’s going to listen to me.

San Diego wins the face off, but it’s quickly recovered by Adam Rogers, a recent trade from Montreal and Martinez’s defensive partner. Rogers gets the puck to Dec, and I sigh, ready to watch Finn predict exactly what Declan is about to do. Again.

“He passed!” Maggie shouts. I sit up straight. Gideon has the puck, but San Diego is on him. He’s able to make a quick pass to Ivanov before being slammed into the boards. Maggie grabs my arm and gasps. I’m too invested in the play to comfort her. Plus, I can see Gideon skating back into the play, so I know he isn’t injured.

Ivanov is trying to line up a shot, but he can’t get an opening. He passes to Dec. “Dammit,” I mutter. Declan skates around the large man blocking him and lifts his stick for a slapshot. I sigh, knowing Finn could block that shot from Dec in his sleep.

But the puck doesn’t speed towards Finn’s waiting glove. It’s slipped back to Gideon, who shoots for the top right of the net. The buzzer on the goal sounds moments before the one ending the last period and the game.

“They did it!” I scream, leaping up and hugging Maggie. Our guys both point at us with their sticks moments before they’re surrounded by their team. “He listened,” I say, surprised. He always takes my critiques after a game, but I’ve never seen him actually listen to what I’m saying.

“Let’s go get to them before the press wants to talk to them,” Maggie says, grabbing my hand. I follow her, feeling happier than I have in weeks.