Page 29 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show

And indeed, I soon hear hockey terminology thrown around.

It’s fine. Of course, it’s fine.

Can he sense my nervousness? My veins feel like they’ve turned into an expressway, sputtering noisily at eighty miles an hour, grinding over the concrete, and smashing any loose pebbles that might be on it.

Will he look at me at one point and say I remind him of this guy from his school? Will he be upset I didn’t disclose our acquaintanceship? Was that something I should have done? I square my shoulders and focus on my breathing, because maybe that will make everything better.

Luke leans down and pulls something from his bag. It’s an iPad.

“Want to watch a movie?” he asks.

“What?” My gaze still bounces around the bus, wanting to know if there’s danger from somewhere.

His lips swerve up. “I’m sure there’s something we’ll both like.”

“Um...”

Luke removes an AirPod, then slides it into my ear. My heart thrums uncertainly, and when I glance at him, his gaze is stern and assessing, like a surgeon.

I look down, and he fiddles more with the AirPod, then it’s in.

“There.” He scrolls through the videos. “What are you in the mood for?”

I see a folder marked “reality TV,” and I point to it. “What do you have?”

He stiffens, and somehow, I’ve said the wrong thing, after all.

“Maybe something else,” he says.

I point at Ted Lasso, and even though we’re in a sports setting, he gives a relieved smile. “Perfect.”

The TV show soon plays, and I concentrate on the bright colors of London and the green soccer field and the not so-really-scary soccer players.

The guys continue to chatter around us, booming, boisterous voices probably more booming, more boisterous after the day’s victory.

Finally, the coach slows.

We’re at the hotel.

“Awesome,” Luke says, pausing the show.

Everyone files from the bus, and we follow them inside.

“This can take a while,” Luke says, ushering me to the front of the line.

“Shouldn’t we wait?”

“Nah. You’re the fancy host. Besides, you need to set up the cameras.”

Right.

The interview.

Luke explains to the hotel clerk that I need my room first, waving away comments from some of the towering muscular men that we’re cutting the line.

I grab the key.

“Do you need me to help set up the cameras?”