Page 9
CHAPTER 9
Tempe
I ’ve never been to a professional hockey game before, so when the towering glass doors of the arena swing open, ushering us into a wave of noise and bustling crowds, it’s like stepping into another world. The air buzzes with excitement, the amplified voices of fans blending into a chorus of anticipation. Cooper and Danny have been to a game before and they’re trying to act cool, but both are looking around with wide eyes.
We picked up the tickets Rafferty left for us at will call, but before we go to our seats, we decide to walk around the entire arena concourse. The food smells heavenly—hot dogs, pretzels, cinnamon pecans and popcorn. My mouth waters as I haven’t eaten anything other than my standard protein bar for breakfast and half a tuna sandwich at lunch, and yet I can’t decide what to get.
Maybe one of each.
We stop at a merchandise stand and although it’s way overpriced, I buy purple foam fingers for Cooper and Danny. I hold them while they play a variety of hockey-themed games set up in a kids’ area, and then force them to pay our respects at a new memorial wall erected in the main lobby for the Titans’ plane that crashed coming up on two years ago. The boys were both eleven when the plane went down, killing everyone on board, and while they remember it in general terms, they didn’t really understand the implications of it—rebuilding the team from scratch. The Titans have displays showing a biography of every single player who made up the new team.
“Rafferty’s not on there,” Danny says, looking over the players. He’s been most impressed that I’m friends with him and he gave us these tickets.
“He just signed on this summer,” Cooper says. He apparently knows far more of the inner workings of this team than his buddy.
We hit up the food vendors, the boys choosing pizza while I line up at the Primanti’s stall for a pastrami and cheese sandwich. There’s plenty of time before the warm-ups start, so we eat standing at a high-top table and then I treat them to ice cream and myself to a beer.
Once we’re walking down the steps to our seats, led by an usher in a white shirt and black vest, the music is blaring and the fans are screaming. The ice gleams under the lights and a low flutter of excitement builds within me.
I’m actually here at the Titans’ arena and I’m going to see Rafferty play. I don’t think it’s hit me how freaking cool all this is until right this moment, and as Cooper and Danny file into our row, I take a second to look around me.
I know I’ll never forget this moment.
“Tempe… come on.” I blink and look down the row, see Danny and Cooper sitting and licking at their cones. Cooper looks at me expectantly. “The visiting team is on the ice. The Titans will be coming out to warm up soon.”
I have to scoot past a few people, holding my beer gingerly so I don’t spill it, and take the empty seat next to my brother.
We watch with wide grins as various videos play on the big screen, rock music blares and fans dance in their rows. I see some Phantom fans a few rows behind us and to the left, talking smack to Titans fans, but it all seems in good fun.
When someone takes the seat next to me, I turn to see a beautiful brunette in jeans, knee-high boots and a Titans jersey. She smiles and holds out her hand. “You must be Tempe.”
I jolt at the mention of my name, but then immediately realize… this is Rafferty’s sister. I knew she’d be here tonight as he’d texted me while I was working that she surprised him with a visit and hoped I didn’t mind that he put us all together.
Of course, I didn’t mind.
How could I when this experience is beyond amazing?
“Hi,” I gush, balancing my beer carefully to shake her hand. “You must be Farren. It’s great to meet you.” I glance at the boys, both absorbed in watching the Titans mascot skating around the ice, shooting rolled up T-shirts into the crowd. “That’s my brother Cooper and his buddy Danny.”
“Cute kids,” she says, leaning forward to look down the row.
“I’ll properly introduce you when their heads are out of the clouds.”
Farren laughs and then leans into me, lowering her voice. “I’m glad they’re not paying attention as I can ask you all the dirty details about this whole fake girlfriend thing you got going on with my brother.”
I groan audibly, ducking my head in faux shame. “It’s crazy, but that’s all your brother’s fault. He roped me into it by kissing me in the grocery store.”
Farren giggles. “I couldn’t believe the story when he told me. I mean, Rafferty is not the impulsive one in our family. That’s totally me.”
“Tempe,” Cooper yells, elbowing me in the ribs. “They’re on the ice!”
I turn to see the Titans pouring through the gate that leads back to the locker room, each player zipping off as soon as his skates touch the ice. They zoom past us in a wide circle, warming up their legs.
“There’s Rafferty!” Cooper yells as he and Danny surge to their feet and start screaming. I watch him zip by, his face intensely focused.
I answer Farren while keeping an eye on the boys, ensuring they don’t climb over their seats in excitement. “It’s been interesting. I’d say your brother has found a bit of your impulsivity.”
Farren chuckles, nodding. “He must be evolving. He’s always been the charmer but never really settled down. You’re probably the longest ‘relationship’ he’s ever had.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Oh? I guess being a professional athlete doesn’t lend itself to stable relationships.”
“Not just that…” Farren leans in, as if sharing a secret. “Rafferty loves his freedom too much. He’s a bit of a ladies’ man, though he might not admit it.”
I nod, processing this new information, my focus drifting to the ice. Farren’s brother skates with a grace that belies his size, his presence on the ice both commanding and fluid. Seeing him in his element like this, so different from the man who rearranged furniture at my mom’s house, is disorienting.
As if sensing my eyes on him, Rafferty glances our way. He scoops up a puck and skates over, his approach drawing a cheer from the section. With a practiced flick, he sends the puck sailing over the glass where Cooper catches it with a gasp. Rafferty winks at me, a playful smirk on his lips, then turns to Farren and mouths “Behave” before rejoining the warm-up.
I laugh, shaking my head, touched by his gesture for Cooper. Turning to Farren, I find her watching me with an amused expression. “He’s not so bad, is he?”
“No,” I admit, my heart still fluttering from the wink. “Not so bad at all.”
Farren and I chat while warm-ups continue. I find her very easy to talk to and I love her free-spirited nature, although she proudly owns that she is recklessly impulsive. Apparently she got into a fight with her live-in boyfriend who was also her boss—at least I think that’s the gist of the story—and hopped a bus to Pittsburgh. Just quit her job, gave her ex the middle finger, and landed on Rafferty’s doorstep. She’s fascinating, the type of woman I could knock back a bottle of wine with while we dished about everything and nothing.
But the game starts and conversation chills significantly, only because we’re all screaming and cheering. Being this close to the ice, and to Rafferty, is a bit surreal. Nowhere on my bingo card did I have a professional hockey player would kiss me out of the blue, hire me to be his fake girlfriend and then give me tickets to a game.
The entire game is one big rolling ball of energy and I’m clutching the edge of my seat the whole time. Farren’s obviously been to a ton of her brother’s games over the years and she’s incredibly knowledgeable about the sport, taking the time to explain things to me.
On the ice, Rafferty and his line are in constant motion. While I’ve researched the roster some, it’s Farren who clues me in on the third line. Pointing out to the ice, she says, “Anders Blom is the center and he’s known for his incredible puck handling. And that’s Evgeny Denisenko. He’s their right-winger and he’s a lot like Rafferty… big, but super light on his feet. Even though he’s a finesse player, he can scrap with the best of them.” She points to another player. “Dillon Martelle’s on the left wing, and he’s a robust power player.”
“And Van Turner is the other defenseman on that line with Rafferty,” I say, proud of that piece of knowledge. I went down a rabbit hole when I was reading up on the team and Van Turner has by far the most interesting story of all of them. He’s recently out of retirement but what makes him so unique is that his father was a serial killer who recently died in prison.
“Very good,” Farren says with a nudge of her elbow against my arm.
Midway through the second period, the game’s intensity escalates as the score is tied 2–2. My favorite parts are always when Rafferty’s line is on the ice and I watch, breath held, as Anders takes a hard check against the boards right in front of us. Rafferty’s reaction is immediate and fierce. His usual calm demeanor on ice shifts visibly; his body tenses, and he skates swiftly toward the player who hit Anders.
“Watch this,” Farren murmurs next to me, her tone a mix of warning and excitement. “Raff’s about to do his thing.”
Before I can ask what she means, Rafferty drops his gloves, a signal clear enough even for a novice like me. The crowd erupts around us, some cheering wildly. Danny and Cooper are on their feet, screaming encouragements.
Rafferty’s fists connect with the opposing player’s helmet, the sound sharp and shocking. My stomach twists. I’ve never seen him—or anyone I know, for that matter—fight like this. It’s brutal, deliberate, and yet there’s a technique to it that speaks of practice and inevitability in this sport.
Farren leans over, calm amid the chaos. “He’s protecting his center and wings. It’s part of his job. Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing.”
On the ice, the referees intervene, but not before Rafferty lands a few more punches. The crowd roars as Rafferty heads to the penalty box, the Titans fans thrilled by his display of loyalty and strength. Gonna guess that player will think twice before messing with a player on Rafferty’s line.
I’m on my feet with the rest of the crowd as the fight is replayed on the Jumbotron overhead. Rafferty’s head is tipped back, chest heaving, as he watches from the penalty box and periodically squirts water in his mouth. Cooper is jumping up and down, cheering for Rafferty like he just scored a game-winning goal, while Danny looks a mix of shocked and thrilled, his eyes wide and his mouth open.
Watching Rafferty right now, completely nonplussed by what just happened, I realize there’s so much more to this game than I understood. The physicality isn’t just about aggression—it’s about defense, about camaraderie, about standing up for your teammates in the most literal way possible.
As the game resumes, my heart still races, but now a newfound respect mixes with my nerves. This sport isn’t just about skill with the puck; it’s about passion, protection, and pride. And seeing Rafferty in this new light, as a protector, adds a layer to him I hadn’t anticipated—both thrilling and daunting.
It’s a nail-biter to the very end, but the Titans pull out a win with an early third period goal that puts them ahead and then play excellent defense for the rest of the game. When the final buzzer sounds, the crowd is so loud, I can’t even hear Cooper next to me as he shouts. I have to read his lips and I think he’s saying, “That was freaking awesome.”
Yes, kiddo… it was.
They announce the star players of the game who each take a short skate around the ice, sticks raised in gratitude to the audience, Penn Navarro being the last one for the Titans since he scored the game winner. Farren turns to me as the crowd starts exiting the rows. “It was really great to meet you. Any interest in getting together for drinks one night?”
“Um, yeah… that sounds great. But my schedule is so busy. I’m not sure if Rafferty told you about my mom.”
Farren nods, expression sympathetic. “He did, which is why I’m offering to bring a bottle of wine to your house anytime you want. You just say when.”
Laughing, I think that might be the nicest thing anyone has offered in a long time and I’m compelled to hug her. She returns it with an affectionate squeeze and then shuffles out of the row, melting into the crowd.
I turn to Danny and Cooper, chattering animatedly. “You two ready to head home?”
“No way,” Cooper says. “I could stay here forever.”
Laughing, I loop my arm around his shoulders. “Pretty fantastic, huh?”
“The best,” he exclaims. “I’m so glad you met Rafferty.”
And he’s not wrong. Of course, my brother doesn’t know exactly how we met or the ruse that we’re perpetuating, but at this moment, the only thing that matters is the smile on that kid’s face.