Page 35 of Don't Puck Up
“Shit,” I muttered, and Carina screamed in encouragement. Rusty and Travis whistled, and Cara and Roe cheered.
Gauthier was there, tearing through bodies and scooping the puck up. He shot it to Hux, and the team moved up the ice, making another play on goal.
But the Kings were desperate. Their first line defense was stuck like glue to our forwards, Cohen and Agosta trying but failing to push them back.
Hux passed to Hewitt, and we got a glimmer of the player we were used to watching. It was a clean pass, landing straight on Hewitt’s tape. He spun around, dodging the Kings’ defense, and shot it deep, straight to Cohen.
Cohen passed back to Hux. He shot it to Gauthier.
Gauthier went for goal.
The goalie caught it and sent the puck back into play.
The rest of the period was like that—a messy scramble to try to score, but both teams failed to light up the lamp. Rune was worth his weight in gold. He’d caught more than twice the amount our guys had managed, seemingly without breaking a sweat.
“Hewitt’s killing me,” Carina groaned, collapsing into her seat and rubbing her swollen belly.
“He’s definitely off,” I agreed.
“He’s been like this all season. It’s as if he’s had enough. He’s struggling with injuries, and he looks miserable out there,” Cara added
“Ouch. That’s one hell of a rut.”
“Yup,” Carina murmured. “He’s such a lovely bloke, but he’s not having the best season.”
Coach called for a time-out, and we all dropped into our seats. I looked over at the five people I was sitting with. Carina, Rusty, and Travis had their heads together, giggling over something. Travis took afistful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth, and Rusty rolled his eyes with a grin. The three men—Gauthier, Rusty, and Travis—had been college roommates, and they’d stayed together after college. Carina seemed to slip straight in and fit perfectly into their dynamic.
Cara and Roe were so obviously in love that I always felt like I was intruding on private moments with them. It was the same when Hux was with them. I was so ecstatic that he’d found two people who loved him exactly the way he deserved—wholeheartedly.
“Oooh, kiss cam,” Cara pointed out, and I looked up at the screen.
The camera panned and zoomed in on a couple. I gasped, then choked on my drink. There in front of me in a purple-and-black Seals jersey was Locke Ledger.
“Oh wow, he’s so handsome,” Carina murmured.
“Hey,” Travis protested.
“Shut it.” She laughed. “He’s a celebrity. I’m allowed to have a crush.”
Her comment sat like acid in my stomach. I certainly didn’t have any claim on him, and we hadn’t even spoken since we were in Fiji, but still. He was mine and Chris’s crush to have.
He was sitting between a man and a woman, both in LA Kings gear. Locke shook his head, grinned, and gave the crowd a thumbs-up, but the crowd erupted screaming, “Kiss, kiss, kiss.”
The woman didn’t hesitate. She leaned forward, tugged on the sleeve of the man sitting next to Locke, and when he mirrored her pose, she planted a kiss on him. Locke blinked, then busted up laughing. He shrugged and cheered with the crowd.
My cheeks heated, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.
“Oh, hello. I think we have someone with an even bigger crush than me,” Carina teased and elbowed me gently.
“Did I tell you that Chris and I met him? He was in Fiji when we were there. He’s a good guy.”
“YouknowLocke Ledger.”
“Yeah.”
I pressed my cold hands to my cheeks, trying to cool them, but it was no use. I didn’t know why, but I was just as relieved he hadn’t kissed the woman next to him as I was embarrassed at blushing like a schoolgirl when I laid eyes on him.
I still couldn’t believe that we hadn’t traded numbers. We’d spent the day lying by the pool, alternating between the sun and shade, drinking, laughing, and swimming. By the time we’d said goodbye, our cell phones were long forgotten in the beach bag I was carrying. We didn’t see him again after that.