Yes, we were going to get nachos
My heart still hammered every time Jesse skated right past us, the ice slicing up in a spray of white.
All the years of watching came back to me, but this time I didn’t give a fuck.
So I was shocked when his head twisted in my direction after his second goal of the game.
The stadium was going wild, screams echoing in my ears, the crowd so wild for #87 that all I saw were brightly colored blurs all around the ice.
But when Jesse looked over at me all he’d see was the one singular person sitting and knitting a very nice hat. Because fuck him, that’s why.
“The man is a hockey demigod!” Mr. Macduff howled in my ear.
“He’s a magician on the ice!” Mr. Montgomery agreed, vibrating with such excitement that the popcorn was hopping out of his bag.
The kids were incredibly excited, even though the game ended without a fight, and for everybody but me it was the perfect day.
After the buzzer rang, I got up in relief.
Finally, we could collect our complimentary T-shirts and leave, but suddenly the usher was back.
“Please come this way,” he said. “The team has arranged for a tour of the facility.”
Theteam?
At least it couldn’t possibly be Jesse, since the game had just ended. . .
But as we were escorted into the tunnel, the star center met us at the entrance, in sweatpants and a T-shirt.
He still looked slick with sweat, like he hadn’t even stopped to shower. And, as always, he was too damn big and magnetic, making everyone laugh as he led the kids on a tour.
I hung back.
When we were dating, I had been used to this. Jesse was like the sun: golden, compelling, popular. I was the quiet, studious girl and I had been perfectly content to let him be the center and bask in the reflection.
But I didn’t care anymore.
His sun wasn’t for me anymore. Wasn’t for my benefit. Therefore it did not pertain to me.
After we had toured the locker room and facilities, he handed off the group to one of his teammates—a tall, dark-haired Czech named Karel, who had them all practicing shots on a goal in one of the training rooms.
I stood back by the door, checking my phone, and my stomach tensed as Jesse headed over to me.
Shit
He stopped right in front of me, and I could feel the heat radiating off him, see the tight grip my ex had on his thick biceps.
“Josie, I just want to talk,” he said in a low voice. “Please. Can you give me that?”
I had planned to be cool and disinterested, but at this ridiculous request I had to struggle to keep my temper in check.
“Can Igive you that?Youdon’t get to ask me anything. You don’t get anything from me.”
“I just—I just want to explain,” he said. “I really need to talk to you.”
“Well, we have nothing to talk about,” I shot at him.
He looked down at me, and I saw the muscles in his forearms flex and release, flex and release again. There was a muscle that moved in his jaw, and I didn’t like how close he was standing to me, how intently he was looking at me.
