Page 151 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

“If we go in there together, everyone will know. Are you…ready for that?”

I can’t help but smile. “Are you?”

“Yes,” he states, without missing a beat. “They can put us up on the Jumbotron for the world to see as far as I care—which is a possibility, because I’ve never had a woman come to a game before.” I quirk a brow. “Not like this. And I’ve never…” He rubs his neck again. “I’ve never put anyone on the list before, either.”

All the air rushes from my lungs, my heart aching for him and all the things he’s missed out on with his family refusing to support his career choice.

I squeeze his hand and take a deep breath, wondering how I’ve gone from keeping quiet about the man I’m seeing at the salon to potentially having our relationship revealed at a game for tens of thousands to see. “I want to go in there with you,” I tell him, my voice stronger than I was expecting.

The widest smile spreads across his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Excitement bubbles up inside me. I’ve been watching hockey games for as long as I can remember. I’ve always wondered what it’s like behind the scenes. Sure, I’ve had a taste of it since Bea hooked up with Rett, allowing us to use the friends and family suite, but that’s not like this.

Calvin reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of my neck, tugging me over the center console.

“I lo—I’m really excited for tonight.”

I blink.

Was he…? Did he almost…?

I shove it away. It doesn’t matter.

It really fucking matters.

“Me too,” I say. “I do have one condition, though.”

“Name it,” he says, his forehead resting against mine.

“I’m going to need to document this for Garrett. He will lose his mind.”

“You got it,” he says before sealing the deal with a kiss.

We take a selfie in the parking garage, and I send it to Garrett with a happy giggle before getting our night started.

Walking into the arena through the players' entrance, holding the hand of one of the star players, blows my mind.

“It’s so quiet,” I say, my voice almost a whisper as we walk down the green and white hallways.

“They’re probably still in a team meeting,” Calvin explains. “They’ll be out soon for warm-ups.

My eyes are wide as we take everything in. The door to the trainers’ room, the gym, the locker room.

I snap pictures of it all as if I’m in Disney World. Garrett hasn’t seen any of them, but he’s going to lose his shit when he does.

Finally, I spot the rink at the very end, and then we’re in the tunnel, the noise level’s now significantly higher than when we first stepped inside.

The tunnel.

The one the players walk through before every game. The one that every fan sets their sights on, waiting for their favorite player to emerge.

“This is surreal,” I murmur to myself as my eyes lift from the ice to the crowd. “There are so many people already.” I’ve been sitting in that crowd countless times, but it looks so different from down here. So much…more. “Don’t you get nervous?” I ask, turning my attention to Calvin.

“No. I just go out there and do my job. Or at least, I did.”

“And you will again,” I assure him, squeezing his hand.

Suddenly, someone spots him and shrieks, “It’s Killer,” right behind us.