Page 25

Tucking the box beneath her arm, she takes back her wine glass, her other hand resting on my back as she steers me toward the food.

People clear a path for us, and I do my duties nodding and greeting everyone with the biggest smile.

Joss pops up out of nowhere with a small plate of desserts, completely forgoing any of the appetizers or entrees in favor of her sweets.

She introduces herself to Darlene between bites and heads off to the open bar for a cocktail.

I follow along with Darlene as she makes suggestions about what’s worth eating and what I should avoid, and then she offers to grab me a cocktail too.

Though I decline, she insists because her glass is empty too.

She tells me she’ll grab me one of Decker’s favorites, which I pretend to know.

I descend the stairs with Darlene on my heels, taking a deep breath as we approach the window.

It’s time. This is what we’ve been waiting for.

My stomach flips a little more with each step closer to the glass.

After this moment, we’re all people will be talking about.

Decker and I. The fact that I seem so chummy with his mother.

And as always, those trivial little things—what color my drink was, my outfit, and how many times I didn’t smile.

Naturally, my made up lips press further into my cheeks as though it can wipe away the nerves.

As excited as I am to bury the whole King’s Music Hall fiasco, I’m officially—and publicly—stepping into unknown territory. New territory. Decker’s territory.

Darlene and I sit, and she shoves a plastic cup into the built-in drink holder in the arm of my chair.

Which reclines, by the way. I might as well be in anyone’s living room across America in a chair like this, but instead, I’m being stared at by thousands of eyes as though I’m in the world’s biggest fish bowl.

“Spiced rum and Sprite.” She points to the swirling liquid in the cup. “Deck’s favorite.”

I shake my head like his drink choice is the most endearing thing and lift it to sip. It’s not bad. It’s also my first time trying it, but she can’t know that. “I will say it’s growing on me. Better than the old-fashioneds he’s been ordering lately.”

She guffaws. “Honey, he only orders those after a day he wants to forget or to impress you. Hopefully it’s mostly been the latter.”

I try to bite back my smile, but it’s no use. Darlene lights up, nudging me with her shoulder as she sips her red wine, her lips already tinged with purple. “Did Decker tell you about his first game here?”

I weigh my responses, knowing full well he never made a peep about it to me, but wondering if it’s something a girlfriend should know. “I’d love to hear your take on it.”

She beams brighter and launches into how a twenty-two year old Decker was so nervous he was puking on the sidelines.

No wonder he never mentioned it. I smile along and laugh, making sure to infuse all the admiration I can into my reactions.

Despite being a semi-gross story, it’s commendable he went on to play and win like none of it happened.

I’m grateful when her next few questions are about me and not about our relationship.

Darlene listens intently, swiping a hunk of crusty bread through some type of cheese dip as she nods along.

The noise beyond the suite builds with applause and music.

Joss bobs along with the Kings cheerleaders, who have begun some sideline dance routine as she takes her seat beside me.

Craning my neck to watch the dancers, I accidentally make prolonged eye contact with a few fans.

I smile and wave as they excitedly reciprocate.

More whoops echo through the stadium as both teams take their places on the field, filling the sidelines.

I check for number 27, but I can’t find him.

“There he is,” Joss says, pointing to a spot below.

Darlene and I both snap our attention to where he stands on the sidelines, his helmet poised to be placed over his thick hair.

As though he can feel our eyes, he turns toward us, smiling and pointing in our direction.

The jumbotron across from us snaps to a shot of him just as one of those green eyes closes in a wink.

And then his helmet is covering his chiseled features, and he’s jogging into place.

My cheeks feel warm, and I’m shocked at how well I’ve programmed my brain to respond because there’s no way this sensation is genuine.

Cocky and inconsiderate Decker Trace could never make me feel this way.

Though the more time I spend with him, the more I start to doubt my judgment.

As much as I don’t want to admit it, I may have been wrong about him.

Joss bumps me with her shoulder, and I cover my face to hide my blush.

When I come out of hiding a split second later, I know I’ll never be able to hide again.

Now my face–my reaction–is blasted over the jumbotron, one of my songs about young love blaring from every speaker in the stadium.

On the screen, Darlene sits beside me, a glass raised over her head as though she’s toasting us.

This is it. Decker and I are officially official.