“Bro, are you blind?”
“Stripes! What the hell!?”
“Oh my god! Boooo!”
I set my camera down in my lap. I don’t think the team's social media account needs photos of the pissed off crowd. The Lions are winning their first game of the season, but one bad call and they turn into the townspeople from Hunchback of Notre Dame. I half expect them to start throwing tomatoes.
Maverick skates to the team bench, lifting one hand to his ear and the other to the crowd, getting them to boo louder, and I snap a photo of his goofy ass grin.
“I wish I got paid to take pictures of hockey players and eat hot dogs,” Chloe says around a mouthful of popcorn.
I bark out a laugh, looking over at my friend. “First of all, I’m an intern; I’m not getting paid to do this. Second—” I pause when I spot Victoria a few rows up and over.
Chloe takes notice and follows my gaze. “His dad still doesn’t show up?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No, but I think that's all Victoria. She finally showed up for him when his dad tried to takeeverything away, and if I had to bet, she’s still got her pointy little heel on his neck, keeping the dog down, you know?”
Victoria spots me and her lips turn up into a soft, apologetic smile. I return it with a wave.
“I love a powerful woman,” Chloe mutters, turning back around in her seat.
While I’m trying to be appreciative of what she did for Noah, I still have a hard time accepting that she wasn’t there for him before. But I can tell she’s trying now, and since I’m working on being more accepting of giving people second chances, I’m supporting their relationship moving forward. For Noah.
Knock Me Out by Vintage Trouble plays throughout the arena as people move about during the second intermission. My dad is likely doing a quick analysis of plays from the second period, and then he’ll be spouting off some words of wisdom.
“What do you think the nacho line looks like?” Chloe asks, and we both swivel in our seats, trying to gauge how many people have left their seats.
My eyes land on the tall, lean, dark haired guy beelining it down the steps, right toward us.
I turn back around with a fool's hope that he’ll get the hint that we’re ignoring him. My dreams are short lived when his annoying voice speaks.
“Hey, you.”
The quarterback of the LCU football team—and my arch-nemesis— stands in the row below us, wearing some early-2000s smug look that he probably thinks is charming.
“Hey, Nathan.” Chloe smiles up at him, and I fight like hell not to roll my eyes because I thought we were over this guy.
“Never thought I’d see you at a hockey game,” he quips, but it sounds more like a dig.
“Savannah’s dating Noah.” She points her thumb at meand I shove my elbow into her side. Not because it’s a secret anymore, but my relationship is not the reason we’re here.
“Oh, and she’s interning with the team this year.”
“Savannah.” Nathan turns to me, but I don’t say anything, so he turns his attention back to Chloe. “You look really good tonight, by the way.”
“Thanks. So do you.”
He tilts his head, his smile widening. “This is hard.”
If you’re referring to this interaction? It’s downright brutal.
“What is?” she asks.
“Seeing you tonight. I haven’t seen you since that party last week, and I don’t know…” He shakes his head. “I just wish I could take you out on a real date.”
Chloe digs her fingernails into my thigh. I bite hard on my tongue to keep from letting out a pained gasp of surprise.
“It’s too bad you're dating Maverick.”
