Page 11 of Over the Line

“Come on, come on,” Liam muttered through gritted teeth as Pittsburgh scrambled after them.

The puck carrier entered Pittsburgh’s defensive zone and passed to his teammate a second before he’d have lost the puck to Andersson. The other player whipped a shot on goal, and though Barnum was probably expecting him to get closer before he took the shot, he still managed to shoulder the puck away. The original puck carrier snatched the rebound and—from the looks of it—tried to bank it off Barnum’s back, but the netminder gloved it down.

A whistle, and the whole arena seemed to exhale.

“Fucking hell,” Liam muttered. Then he glanced at me. “Detroit is deadly with those odd man rushes.”

“So I see.”

“We were prepared for it, too.” He shifted again, almost vibrating with nervous energy. “Hopefully this wakes us up and we don’t let them get another one.”

I nodded as I watched the players set up for a defensive zone faceoff. Liam’s restlessness was contagious; I tapped my heel on the floor and my fingers on my glass. Hockey had always been stressful, especially when my son was playing, but it was something else at this level. Holy shit.

The period ended a moment later with the score still tied and both teams still itching to win. The last thirty seconds or so had been intense, with players battling it out in Detroit’s defensive zone right up until the buzzer sounded. There was even a brief scrum, some players pushing and shoving before the refs separated them and sent them to their respective locker rooms.

Beside me, Liam heaved a sigh and dropped back against his chair. “Fuck. Next period is going to be wild.”

“You think so?”

He gestured down at the ice, where some of the players were still jawing at each other on the way out. “Andersson doesn’t usually get that fired up. If he’s this spicy, he’ll be looking for a reason to drop gloves.”

“Think he’ll do it?”

Liam’s lips quirked, the expression startlingly cute, and then he half-shrugged. “Maybe? But he’ll definitely be shooting off his mouth, and he might do some cross-checking or slashing.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t take a penalty.”

“Seriously. He’s pretty slick about not getting caught, but if he gets pissed off enough, he’ll get himself tossed in the box.” Liam rolled his eyes and carefully pushed himself to his feet as he added, “Guarantee Coach is telling him to simmer down right now, but he’ll be a little shit one way or the other.”

I chuckled. “Well, it’ll be entertaining, won’t it?”

“Always.” He motioned toward the back of the suite. “Want to grab some food? They just restocked.”

I wasn’t all that hungry, but I couldn’t resist going along with him, and I didn’t let myself think too much about why. Not even as I followed him up the steps and drank in the sight of that bespoke suit clinging to his incredibly hot body.

Goddamn. That was one gorgeous ass. And those thighs? Whew. Want.

I managed to get to the top of the small staircase without openly drooling or tripping, so I called that a win. As Liam had said, the trays of food had been replaced. Earlier, we’d grabbed some sandwiches and salad. Now there was pizza that looked like it came from one of those bougie places with a woodfire oven, a huge charcuterie board, and several varieties of dessert. Not what I was accustomed to at a sports stadium, but I wasn’t complaining.

I picked a small piece of tiramisu, as well as a couple of things from the charcuterie. I also got a fresh bottle of Coke, and then I headed back down to the seats.

Liam joined me a moment later, balancing a plate of apple pie and another with a generous slice of pizza, not to mention the bottle of water in his hand. We had what was basically a countertop for our food, and as he started to arrange his various items on it, he winced.

That was when I remembered why he was sitting up here in the first place.

“Oh, do you need a hand?” I reached for the water bottle.

Grimacing, he let me take it, and after he put down the plate, he rubbed his shoulder and rolled it.

“You okay?” I asked.

He nodded as he took his seat. “It’s honestly fine most of the time, but then it’ll just suddenly…” He gestured at it and scowled.

I winced sympathetically. “I’ve heard shoulder injuries are a nightmare.”

“Oh my God, they so are.” He plucked a cracker off his charcuterie plate. “Gift that keeps on giving, right here.”

“That sucks. But it’s healing?”