Page 36 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan (Billionaires Seeking Wives Club #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

E rica

The tension is high as the teams enter the ice. The Zamboni doors close, and the warm-up music starts. Everyone around me, including Sabrina, Wes, and Miles, is chanting and screaming. The room is palpable with tension.

I feel nervous. I so badly want Tyler to win. I so badly want this to go the way it should. I want him to be MVP. I want him to get all the accolades and glory.

The three-minute warm-up countdown shows up on the scoreboard. I look over at Sabrina. She looks like she’s about to faint.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

“I’m just really nervous,” she says. “I don’t know why, because I don’t give two shits about hockey.” She laughs. “I mean, aside from Tyler, because you love him and he’s your boyfriend, and?—"

"Do I have to hear about my sister and Tyler again?” Wes says, looking at me.

“You sure kept that one up your sleeve, Erica.”

“What? I didn’t keep anything up my sleeve.”

“I just want to say that I think that it’s great you guys are together, but I really hope you know what you’re doing. And I also hope that?—”

“Hey, can you be quiet?” an obnoxious guy behind us cuts in. I nod.

“Sorry.”

“Listen to the announcer,” Sabrina says.

“ Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the championship game. I hope everyone’s in for a good game tonight. And now, the starting lineup for the New York Lightning…

“ Starting at center, number one, we have Tyler Kane!”

“Yay!” I scream, and everyone else screams, too. I’m so caught up in the excitement. This is really happening.

I look over at Sabrina. “Am I really dating a hockey player?”

“Are you?” she says. “This is kind of crazy. I mean, I like him, but I never thought you’d be with a sports person.”

The guy behind us turns to us while they’re announcing the right wing, left wing, defense, and goalie for the Lightning team.

“Maybe if you?—”

“I’m sorry,” I say, “but if you’re a fan, you know who those players are already.”

He just rolls his eyes.

I look over at Sabrina, and she giggles.

“ Let’s play hockey! ” the announcer says.

I stare at Sabrina, and we squeeze hands.

“I hope this goes well,” Wes says.

“I’m sure it will,” Miles says, looking at his phone. “I may have to leave early.”

“Why do you have to leave early?” I ask him. “This is a really important match?—”

“It’s a game,” Sabrina corrects me.

“Oh my gosh.” I hit my hand to my forehead. “Why do I keep saying that?”

“Because you don’t really know hockey,” Wes says, rolling his eyes. “Like, you’ve never known hockey. And you’re only into it now because your boyfriend is on the team. Which is kind of crazy, if you ask me.”

“What’s kind of crazy?”

“The fact that you’re dating Tyler and you can’t stand sports.”

“I can stand sports. I like sports!”

“Name one sport you’ve played.”

“I used to play tennis.”

“That was, like, when you were in fifth grade,” he says. “But we should pay attention. Let’s see how it goes.”

“I really want him to win,” I say.

I watch the game. It’s fast—really fast—and much more one-on-one than I thought.

“Did that guy just hit that guy on purpose?” I whisper to Sabrina.

“I think so,” she nods. “You’re allowed contact in hockey.”

Wes puts his fingers to his lips. “We will tell you more about the game when it’s done.”

“Okay. This is a really close one. I didn’t realize it was going to be this close.” He looks nervous. “I hope for your sake, Erica, that it goes well for your man.”

“What do you mean by ‘for my sake’? What does this have to do with me?”

“Because he could get traded,” Miles says. “And if he gets traded, that means he might not be in New York. And if he’s not in New York, your relationship is kaput.”

I press my lips together. “You mean… he could be moved somewhere else just because he loses this game?”

“If they don’t think he’s valuable to the team.” Miles shrugs. “Happens all the time.”

“Shit. What if he gets sent to Minnesota or something? He’s from the Midwest, right?”

“He’s from Iowa.”

“And Iowa’s not Minnesota.”

“Close enough. Maybe he wants to be back home.”

“I don’t want him to go to Minnesota. I don’t want him to…” I say, and all of a sudden, my good, happy, excited mood is diminished.

If he loses, could he have to move? I mean, I know he says he loves me, and I love him, but this is a new relationship.

It’s not like he would ask me to move with him.

It’s not like I’d even want to move to Minnesota.

I’ve never had any desire to live there.

I mean, if he asked me, I would go, because I love him.

I just want to be with him. But there are so many other things I want to accomplish.

I close my eyes and cross my fingers. I’m scared to watch the game now. I can hear the screaming and the shouting. I can hear the announcer talking, but I don’t even really know what he’s saying.

I open my eyes and see the score.

“That’s what I’m fucking talking about!” the guy in front of me says. “Light the lamp! Light the lamp, baby!”

I look over at Sabrina, and she shrugs.

“He just got a goal,” Wes explains.

“Who?” I say, nervous that it’s the other team.

“Your man,” he grins. “Tyler.”

“Oh, thank God for that. Are they winning?”

“It’s close,” he says. “It’s still anyone’s game.”

“Oh. Oh, no.” I’m nervous, and I feel like I could throw up. I just don’t know what to do. And I feel like if he loses, maybe it’s my fault. Maybe he’s been so sidetracked by me and everything that’s been going on that he hasn’t been able to concentrate.

“It’s going to be okay,” Sabrina says.

“I can’t watch this. I want to throw up.” I stand up and head out of the room and go to the restroom.

I know I should be there. I know I should watch. I know I should cheer him on. If he looks into the stands and I’m not there, I’ll feel incredibly guilty. But my heart is in my throat.

What if he loses? It will be my fault. I love him, and I want him to win so badly, but my willing it isn’t going to make it happen.

I walk into a stall and take a seat. I take a few deep breaths. And then I do what I do when I get nervous: I grab my earbuds out of my bag and put them in my ears. I grab my phone, press play, and close my eyes. I just listen to music.

I’m grateful that there are multiple toilets in this restroom, so if anyone’s waiting, they’re not just waiting on me. I don’t know how many songs I listen to before I realize I’ve been in there a long time.

I stand up, flush the toilet just in case anyone’s listening, and step outside.

My jaw drops as I realize there are ten women in line.

“Fuck.”

“Hurry up, bitch,” a blonde says.

“Sorry,” I say, rubbing my stomach. “You know how it is.”

She rolls her eyes and heads into the stall.

I walk over and wash my hands.

“Fuck, that was a game,” I hear someone say.

“I didn’t think they were going to pull it out.”

“Fuck. You know people are going to get in trouble tonight.”

My stomach rumbles, and my heart clenches. The game’s over. I missed it. And I don’t know who won.

I’m a horrible girlfriend. I’m a?—

“There you are!” Sabrina says, rushing over to me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just… was so nervous. What happened? Who won?”

I close my eyes and then open them again.

There’s a wide smile on her face, and I can feel my heart racing.

“They won. They won,” she says. “All thanks to your man.”

And I missed it.

“Fuck. I missed it.”

“It’s okay,” she says. “I took a video for you.”

“You what?”

“I know you, Erica. And I know that when your nerves get the better of you, you just go and listen to music. So I took a video just in case they won so you could say you saw it.”

“But I didn’t see it.”

“I mean… you’ll see it on the video.” She holds her phone up and shows me. “Just explain to him what happened. He’ll understand. He’s not a jackass. His life is in hockey. You know that.”

“I know, but this was a really important game. This was game seven. And?—”

“Hey,” she looks at me. “Just tell him.”

My phone starts beeping then, and I pull it out of my handbag.

It’s Tyler. He probably wants to celebrate with his girl.

What am I going to say?

“Tell him the truth. He’ll understand.”

I nod slowly and answer it.

“Hi. Congratulations.”

“Hey. You still here?”

“Yeah. Of course. Where else would I be?”

“You want to meet me in the locker room?”

“What? Now?”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t your coach want to talk to you?”

“We just won the championship game. I think I’m okay to do whatever I want right now.”

“And what is it you want to do?”

“You’ll see. Come to the locker room. I’m just going to shower, and we’ll head out.”

“But don’t you want to be with your teammates?”

“I just want to be with you.”

“I have something to admit to you. I feel really bad, but… I didn’t actually see most of the game.”

He starts laughing. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“I felt really bad because Miles told me that if you lost, you might move to Minnesota.

And I just didn't know what that meant for our relationship.

And so I got really nervous that you would move, and I just couldn't see what was going to happen.

And then I went into the bathroom and tried to distract myself, and I guess I distracted myself way too well because I stayed in there for a really long time, and when I came out, it was already over.

And I feel like a horrible, horrible girlfriend.

And if you want to dump me because you don't think I'm supportive, then?—”

“Oh, honey,” he cuts in gently, “I'm not going to Minnesota.”

“But what if they transfer you?”

“I don't care if they trade me. I’d quit playing hockey. I got other things I can do—like my art.”

“True. But… do you hate me? I'm meant to be this supportive girlfriend and?—”

“I could never hate you. At all. You gotta know that I love you.”

“And I love you, too. And that’s why I was so nervous that?—”

“Come to the locker room. You have your ID on you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Just tell security who you are, and they'll let you through. I'll be waiting. I've got a surprise for you.”

“You’ve got a surprise for me? What’s the surprise?”

“If I tell you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, my darling.”

“True… but I want to know. And I don’t even know where the locker room is.”

“Wes and Miles know. They can show you the way.”

“Okay. So you don’t hate me?”

“I could never hate you, my darling.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so great. And congratulations. You must be elated.”

“I’m happy for the team. I’m happy for the guys. I’m happy for Coach. But me? I don’t care. It’s not my life. I mean—it is, but it’s not. I have more important things going on now.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah. I have you. And I have surprises that I want to show you when—anyway, get down here.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m coming.”

I hang up and look at Sabrina. “He’s not mad.”

“I told you he wouldn’t be mad.”

“He should be mad, though. I suck. We haven’t even been dating that long, and I already missed the most important game of his life.”

“Girlfriend. It’s okay, right? He said it was okay.”

“But what if he was just saying that because?—”

“Does he seem like the sort of guy to just say anything?”

“No,” I admit. “He would tell me off if he was upset. Or at least jokingly. So… you think he was okay?”

“Yeah. I think he was okay.”

“I just feel like a shitty girlfriend. I shouldn’t have let the stress get the better of me.”

“That’s okay. You’re human. You do what you can do.”

“I know. I just… I can’t believe it. He won. My boyfriend just won the most important hockey game of the year.”

“Yeah, and I think you need to celebrate now, don’t you?”

“I guess I do.” I laugh. “He wants me to go to the locker room. I’m not sure how to get there though. I guess I should find Miles.”

“I actually saw a sign. I can help you, I think.”

“But are you going to get lost?”

“No. You know I’m good with directions, girl.”

“True. You are.” I laugh. “Okay. Well, let me go find my man and support him.”

“Give him a big hug. For me and for Wes. We’re so proud of him. What he just accomplished is amazing.”

“I know. It really is. I love him. Not just because he won this.”

“I know you love him because he is the man of your dreams.”

“Well… you want to know something really bad and sad? What if I had created the man of my dreams? It would’ve been like the opposite of him. Because I’m not even into jocks. But he’s actually turning out to be more the man of my dreams than the fictional man of my dreams… if that makes sense.”

“It totally makes sense,” she says. “And I’m happy for you. I’m happy that you found him, and I’m happy that he has you. Now—go and get him and celebrate, okay?”

I give her a quick hug. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

I hurry toward the locker room, show my ID, and I’m happy to see that Tyler is standing there waiting for me. He steps forward, water dripping from his hair.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” I say. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Even though I didn’t actually see your winning shot? I mean, I saw it because Sabrina took a video, and I watched it, but I didn’t see it in person.”

“That’s okay.” He grins. “The fact that you’re here means more than you actually seeing it. And you came to my art show, so that was more important to me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. But I mean, if you feel really bad, you can make it up to me.”

“Oh, and how can I do that, Mr. Kane?”

“I don’t know. Got any ideas?”

“I don’t know. Are there any empty rooms we can go into?”

“I think I can make that happen.” He nods.

I run my finger down his bicep and squeeze. He gives me a look.

“You’re playing with fire, Ms. Carrington.”

“Oh, yeah? What does that mean?”

“It means if you continue touching me like that, we might not make it to any room.”

“Is this your way of telling me that you’re trying to cash in?”

“Cash in?” he asks.

“On your public sex request.”

“Oh no, darling. I’m not sharing you with anyone.”

“Well, no, I don’t mean sharing me. But I don’t need anyone to see us either.”

“You are all I need.”

“But you told me when you had that moment with that woman, you were kind of excited because?—”

“I was stupid. And I thought it was fun, and I didn’t care about her. I love you. You’re special. You are for me and my eyes only.”

“And I’m for you and your eyes only.”

“I mean, sure, do I get off if there’s a possibility of us getting caught? Why not? But do I want us to be caught? No. Because I love you.”

He brings my face to his, and he kisses me hard.

“I love you so much. And I’m never letting you go.”

“I love you, too,” I say, laughing. “So you’re not going to trade me in for your number one fan or anything?”

“Who do you think I am? Some sort of man who’s just looking for a good time?”

“No, but I don’t know. Maybe you’re a hockey player… seeking a fan.”

He grins. “I’m a hockey player. Seeking you.”