Page 47 of The Game
One perk of the internship is the chance to bring friends and family to home games.
We stop briefly in the PR department, where I show him our office before heading to the rink.
Like me, he wants to experience the game from the arena’s grandstands rather than a VIP box. I lead him to our seats before I go down to finish the last bit of content creation before the game begins.
~
“Your dad made it here, okay?” Samantha asks me as I finish a video for Benjamin’s profile.
“Yeah, we’ll watch the game from the stands. There’s just something special about that,” I tell her.
I feel a prickling sensation at the back of my neck, sensing that he’s near or at least watching me.
I fight the urge to turn around, knowing he’s probably going to give me a smug smile, aware of the effect he has on me.
“Is there a reason McGregor is looking at you like you’re his next meal? Did something happen between you two?” Samantha nudges my side, keeping her voice low.
I roll my shoulders but keep my eyes focused straight ahead, determined not to meet his gaze.
“We might have almost kissed, but his teammates made an appearance in the last second,” I say, and Samantha chuckles beside me.
“No wonder you’re wound even tighter than usual.” No point in denying that.
“Can we talk about this later? Preferably, never, maybe?” I say with a small smile.
“We’re definitely talking about your almost-kiss later. I’m not letting you off the hook on this one.”
We gather our stuff, and at the last moment, I cave and glance his way.
Just like Samantha told me, he’s looking at me with so much hunger in his eyes that I feel like I could catch fire right here in this cold rink.
“Jeez, it’s like watching porn, with a lot of longing and foreplay before the good parts,” Samantha snickers beside me.
She’s not wrong.
I feel myself burning up under his gaze.
I have to get a grip; I can’t be lusting after the captain right now. I’m watching the game with my dad, for Christ’s sake.
I manage to calm my racing heart and make my way to my dad, who’s sitting with a big popcorn and soda in his hand.
“All ready, Dad?” I ask as I sit down beside him.
“Couldn’t be more ready.”
The game is intense as the guys struggle.
Each time they have an opportunity to score, they miss out by a minor mishap or mistake. It’s like they’re not in sync the way they usually are.
It’s tough watching their struggle, but they manage to secure a tie.
Not ideal, but better than a loss.
The atmosphere in the arena has fluctuated with the quality of the game. The fans will be their biggest supporters whenever they win, but they can also be the strictest critics when they struggle.
I feel bad for the guys, but I’m confident they’ll bounce back from this.
When the final whistle blows, I ask Dad if he wants to meet some of the players. They might not be in the most social moods, but I told them my dad was coming to the game today, and it would mean a lot if they took a moment to say hello.
