“You should message him good luck,” Parker suggests.
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can.”
“It might make it worse,” I reason.
“Or it might make it better,” she counters.
My cell burns red hot in my pocket as I consider it.
Deciding that I should risk it, I pull my cell free, but just before I wake it up, an excited voice hits my ears.
“Coach C! Oh my god, we’re your game buddies.”
I look down the row of seats to find Sutton beaming at me. She’s in full Vipers gear and she’s clutching her bear who’s alsobranded up. She looks beyond cute, and her excitement to see me makes my heart ache even more than it already was.
My eyes shoot to the ice despite the fact I know he’s not on it. The guys have already done their warmup. Usually, I’d make sure I was here early enough to watch. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen him out there rolling those hips; it’ll never be enough. But tonight, I couldn’t face it. Seeing him play is going to be hard enough. Watching those moves would be physically painful.
Kodie isn’t going to like this. But what the hell can I do about it? Those are their seats, and I refuse to leave mine. Sure, I could watch from the friends and family suite. I could probably even sweet-talk my way into the team box as well, depending on who’s working security tonight. But I don’t want to. I want to be down here, feet away from the plexiglass so I flinch whenever someone slams into it. I want to be close enough to see the expressions on the players’ faces. I want to scream, knowing they can hear me, not just blend into the crowd. And from the look on Sutton’s face, she wants that too.
God, I remember being her age and arguing with Dad about being safer in the family suite. Screw that. I didn’t want to watch him from a distance. I wanted to be right there, able to see his face the moment he scored.
“I’m so excited,” Sutton squeals as her and Kathleen take their seats. “It’s been so long since I saw Daddy on the ice.”
Yeah. It’s been far too long.
“They’re going to kill it tonight. I can feel it.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say before looking up and greeting her gran, who’s also proudly wearing a number fifty-five jersey.
She studies me closely, and my stomach knots.
She knows.
My heart begins to race as I fight to say something that isn’t going to make me sound like a moron. But words no longer exist.
Instead, I smile awkwardly and swallow a massive mouthful of beer.
Fuck. This is bad.
Turning to Parker, I whisper-shout in her ear.
“His mom knows.”
“What? What makes you say that?”
“She saw his reaction the other night, and the way she just looked at me. She knows.”
“That might be a good thing. She could be on your side.”
“Or she might hate me.”
“Casey,” Parker sighs. “No one could ever hate you.”
My lips part to respond, but the lights dip as spotlights flash around the crowd, signaling the start of the game.
My cell buzzes in my pocket and my heart lurches into my throat. But when I pull it free, I don’t find the name I want staring back at me.
