Chapter 20

chapter 20

EMMALINE

“Excuse me. Pardon me. Sorry,” Brooke apologizes as she weaves through the fans, trying to get her children to their seats. We haven’t met yet, but I recognize her from the night I met Bryce and his friends. She’s Reed’s wife, and everyone knows Reed. He’s been the poster boy for the NHL since he was drafted.

Nerves get the best of me. She’s so small compared to me and seems to have spider arms, as she corrals her kids into their seats. Brooke spots Jolie. “Hey, Jolie. Do you want to trade places so you can sit by Cannon?”

I had been using my peripheral vision, hoping she doesn’t remember me, but Jolie raises her little chin, asking for permission. “Sure,” I agree.

Brooke has a baby snuggled against her chest in one of those slings as she trades spots with Jolie.

“Shew. Ahh. It’s a good thing I love kids.” She inhales hard and lets it out slowly. “Sorry, we haven’t met, but you must be Emmaline. ”

“I am. Sister to the one and only Roman Rustavelli.” I give her a quick smile and scan the ice for Roman. “There he is.”

“We don’t get to many games because those four are already playing everything. Cannon and Colby said you’re the new after-school counselor.”

I lean forward and wave at them. “I am. They’re great kids.”

“Thanks… wait. Oh my God. Oh my God. You’re Rusti. The Rusti. We met a long time ago when we all came from Kentucky to see Bryce play his rookie year. I’m going to kill Reed for not telling me. We don’t keep secrets.”

I turn my body toward her. “I am. But please, no one knows; at least I don’t think they do. Especially my brother.”

“Lettie’s going to freak. She kept telling Wynward that he needed to hunt you down. Did you know who Bryce was when we were at the bar?”

I have no idea who Lettie is but I shake my head. “I knew he was an athlete, but I thought he was a basketball player. There was a guy even taller than Bryce and Reed.”

The arena goes dark with orange and blue spotlights dancing over the ice and fans, so I bend to make sure Jolie is comfortable. Sometimes noises bother her. She’s on her feet, clapping along with all of Brooke’s children.

Brooke whisper-shouts in my ear, “Did Bryce remember you?”

We stand and clap as they introduce the Georgia Jets’ starting lineup. They take a lap around the ice with Bryce leading the way. I know it’s hard for Reed and Roman to take a backseat to Bryce, having been the captains on their former teams, but Reed and Bryce are obviously ecstatic to be playing together again. Hopefully, they’ll bring Roman into their group.

The puck drops, and Bryce gains control, passing it to Reed, who quickly spots Roman open on the right wing with a powerful fake, loses the defender, and slices across the ice, passing it to my brother. He’s swarmed by the defense and loses control.

Damn. I really want him to do well, so they have no option but to like him.

The Notes make a long pass to a player named Shearer that I saw Bryce talking to before the game. Shearer has the puck on one hip and takes a shovel shot into the net. Our goalie can’t track it for all the black skates, and it passes under Snow’s guards. The buzzer goes off, and the Notes celebrate. Shearer gets a million helmet pats.

Bryce gets into Roman’s face and even though I can’t hear what he’s saying, the small jerks of their heads tell me it’s not good.

Brooke says, “Don’t worry. Bryce is vocal on the ice, but he doesn’t let it affect his outside life. And you didn’t answer—did he remember you?”

“Not at first. My brother asked me to watch Jolie because it was only the second or third night since she moved in. I had my hair in a bun with a ball cap on. But when he came to Admire, I could see in his eyes that he remembered.”

“Have you talked about it?”

“A little.” I can feel the heat traveling up my body, embarrassed that she knows I slept with him the first time I met him. And again, last night. I bet she thinks I’m a puck bunny.

She jumps up with her baby on board, screaming, “Go, Reed, go. Go.” He dribbles the puck back and forth as he slashes across the ice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as skilled. My first game, I was worried about Jolie and didn’t pay too much attention to the game.

“Damn, he’s got game.”

Right when I say the words, he crosses over with the flick of his wrist, and the puck is in the net. Bryce and Reed celebrate, then Roman and the other guys join in. Reed skates by and points to his family. Her face turns red as she holds her baby’s head and points back.

When things settle down, I ask, “So the pointing, that’s your thing.”

“Yep. He’s my guy.”

Brooke is constantly distracted with questions or requests from the kids, so she forgets about my and Bryce’s one-night stand. Now, Caleb and Colby have to use the restroom. I say, “Go. I’ll watch Cannon and Carly.” They’re gone for most of the second period and when she gets back, Jolie is squeezing her legs, so I take her to the bathroom, and we stand in line at the concession line. By the time we get back, there’s two minutes left in the third period.

As we’re inching to our seats, Bryce scores. He gets applause because he’s a two-time MVP. It’s cordial like “ Yeah, can’t stop that from happening.”

A collective gasp bursts from the crowd, and my head swivels to the ice. Bryce is laid out, not moving. “Get up,” I mumble.

Brooke squeezes my leg, but then she jumps to her feet. “Reed, no.”

Reed is beating the shit out of number fifteen. The crowd boos, and the refs break it up and send Reed to the penalty box, but not before the entire arena hears Reed say, “Don’t fuck with my best friend.”

Oh Lord, I know what the highlights will be tonight. I’m all too acquainted with this scene where Roman is involved. Snow skates over to Bryce, getting down on his leg pads. Jolie wraps both arms around my leg and peers up at me with her dad’s crystal blue eyes. Her lips are tight and quivering, but when Bryce moves his head, Snow helps him to a seated position. Shearer from the Notes comes over and pats his shoulder. Together, Snow and Shearer help him to his feet, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s standing.

Then Shearer goes after his teammate, number fifteen. They’re on the other side, so I can’t hear, but it’s not a friendly exchange between teammates.

The medical staff promptly removes Bryce from the ice, and Reed is ejected from the game, so the Jets are left shorthanded during the penalty phase. Thankfully, our defense holds, and we win the game two to one.

“I hope he’s okay,” I say, hoping to keep my feelings for the star center hidden.

“I’m sure they’re just being cautious,” Brooke says convincingly. “Let’s go to the tunnel. The kids love waiting for their daddy, and it helps Reed transition from his hockey persona to husband and dad.”

“Okay.”

When we finally reach the tunnel, Brooke lines the kids against the wall. “Stay.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

What a beautiful word that is—Mommy.

She lets out a big sigh. “Reed is going to need to work this out. It’s a good thing the kids are going to Dane and Lettie’s to spend the night.”

My brows pinch, not knowing who she’s talking about.

“Oh, that reminds me. You met Dane and Lettie that night. He’s the basketball player. He plays for the Nashville Fireflies. He and Lettie are a country duo in their spare time.” Recognition must flash across my face because she continues, “Anyway, there were sparks flying everywhere between you and Bryce that night. Is it still there?”

I open my mouth to answer when a familiar but notably cool voice says, “Sparks? No sparks. Isn’t that right, Emmaline?”