“You’re so cute when you’re scared,” he teases, patting me on the head before handing me a paper ticket. “Don’t worry. We don’t have WAG boxes in Sweden, and your ticket is one of about 7,000 completely normal ones.”
“You’re a menace. Don’t do that.”
“Then don’t be so gullible.” He punches me on the shoulder, totally innocent and friendly, but my body lights up like a goal lamp at the end of a shootout. It’s like the lingering fatigue from the overnight trip melts away, replaced with searing energy that goes everywhere.
Yeah,everywhere.
Nothing changed since we’ve been apart. Any kind of touch has the same effect on me, whether it’s a kiss, a hug, or a basic shoulder tap.
Now isnotthe time for any kind of serious discussion, and before I can change the topic to something less intense, someone calls Erik’s name, and we turn around. It’s a tall, attractive brown-haired guy—Erik’s linemate Nils.
I know this because I might have stalked Erik’s tagged pictures on social media a couple of times. Not that I’m going to admit that.
“Hey, Nils,” Erik says, stepping aside. “This is my friend Luke who’s visiting. Luke, meet my linemate Nils.”
“Hi, Luke, welcome to Sweden.” Nils offers me his hand. “Glad you could make it, we’re crushing Malmö tonight.”
“Awesome,” I say. “Being on home turf should help, right?”
“Hopefully, but we need as much support as we can get. My girlfriend Silja is coming, too, so at least we have you two.”
Nils’s face brightens as he looks behind me, and I swivel my head to see a pretty, dark-haired woman in a long blue coat walking toward us.
“Hey,” she says, waving at Erik and Nils. Then she turns to me. “And you must be Luke! Erik is really excited that you’re here to visit. I’m Silja, Nils’s partner.”
“Yup, nice to meet you Silja.”
Erik and Nils’s phones beep, and they straighten up. “We have to go in now, but you two should hang out before the game starts,” says Nils.
Silja smiles. “Sounds good! Luke and I can grab drinks nearby.”
“Awesome,” I say, and Nils gives his girlfriend a quick peck before heading into the secure players’ area.
Erik gives me a fist bump. “I’ll meet you as soon as I can after the game ends.”
“Got it. Now go kick ass.”
Then he’s gone.
Silja turns to me and thinks for a second. “There’s a bar in the stadium that has half-price drinks before games. Should we go there?”
“Let’s do it,” I say, and she leads the way. We settle into a high-top on the second floor, next to a window overlooking the square in front of the rink. The menus are digital, and we both scan the code, but Silja apparently decides in record time because she puts her phone down almost immediately. I order a random drink, not caring what exactly it is.
“So,” Silja says after I order, “is this your first time visiting Sweden?”
“Yeah, it is. Erik invited me one night and I decided to go ahead with coming here.”
Her eyes narrow. “That’s a long flight. You two must be very good friends.”
There it is.“Alright, you clearly think there’s something going on between me and Erik.”
“Is there not?”
“What makes you think that?”
Silja glances out of the window. “Oh, I don’t know. It might have something to do with the fact you break into a smile whenever I say Erik’s name.”
“I do that?”
