Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Whitney

I wandered into the kitchen, Mr. Darcy meowing at my heels. "I know, I know. I'm working on it. Give me a break. I didn't get home from the game until late last night." Yawning, I grabbed a can of Friskies out of the cabinet and scooped half of the cat food into a dish. I placed the food on the floor and freshened his water.

I snatched my bottle of medicine off the counter, and just a few pills rattled around in the bottom. I'd have to bite the bullet and refill it soon. I dumped out a pill and split it in half. Even half of a pill was worth a whopping $7.50. My effing health insurance. The premiums were high, and the benefits were practically non-existent. I cracked open a bottle of water and downed the half-pill with a gulp. I returned the second half to the bottle to take that evening.

Once my lease was up, I could move to Virginia to live with Grandma where the cost of living was cheaper. She was the only relative I had left. My breath hitched, and pain sliced through my chest. The grief from my parents' death last year was still a raw wound .

With a heavy heart, I pulled frozen fruit, yogurt, and juice out of the fridge. I measured them into the blender and pushed the button. Mr. Darcy bolted out of the kitchen at the loud whirring noise.

Grandma had been begging me to join her on her horse farm now that my parents were gone and there wasn't any reason for me to stay in San Jose. Sure, the horses had found new homes since she could no longer keep up with them, but the land and house required work, and she needed my help.

I wandered to my bedroom, missing my grandmother. Fond memories of summers spent on the farm ran through my head like a highlights reel while I dressed in a sports bra, tights, and sneakers. I sipped my smoothie and piled my hair on top of my head in a messy bun.

Knock, knock, knock.

My brows pinched together. I never had visitors, and solicitors couldn't get into the building.

I strode to the door and peered through the peephole at a tall, broad form.

Hudson. Fluttering wings swirled in my stomach. What was he doing here?

I opened the door and drank in the faded and worn Blazers T-shirt stretched over a sculpted chest, broad shoulders, and bulging biceps. Fitness pants pulled tight over thick, corded thighs. Was I drooling? I wiped my mouth to be sure.

My gaze raised to his handsome face and the smirk on his lips.

Busted. My cheeks heated.

"Morning." He nodded, laughter in his warm brown eyes.

"Morning." My voice was breathless. "Um, great game last night. Nice save at the end of the third period. "

"Thanks." His cheeks flushed a deep pink. "And thanks for keeping my grandfather company."

"My pleasure." And it was.

"I spoke with him last night to make sure he got home all right. He said you helped him to the car. Thank you for that. The ushers often keep him waiting."

I shrugged. "No problem. Gramps is a hoot."

His eyebrows raised. "He told you to call him Gramps?"

"He did." I frowned. "Shouldn't I?"

"No, it's fine. It's just that he's never asked anyone else to call him that before."

"Really?" Warmth spread through my chest. "Then it's a privilege, and I won't take it lightly."

He placed a hand on the doorframe above my head and leaned forward a bit, as if imparting a secret. "I think he's trying to play matchmaker."

Sign me up for that!

"Yeah, but that's okay. I told him we were just neighbors."

He nodded. "Would you do me a favor?"

"If I can."

"Would you go to the game tomorrow night and sit with Gramps again?" He met my gaze, his eyes pleading.

"Sure! I'd love to."

He gave me a decisive nod and pulled a ticket out of his pocket. "Here you go."

I took the slip of paper. "Thanks!"

"Do you want a parking pass?"

I shook my head. "No, thanks." My driver's license was medically suspended, and my car was gathering dust in the parking garage. My shoulders slumped. I could sell my car to pay for my medication, but I hoped to get my license reinstated if all went well with this new drug .

For now, I'd take an Uber to the arena. I waved the ticket. "I'll see Gramps tomorrow night."

And I hoped he wouldn't read too much into my repeat visit.

I plunked into the seat beside Gramps. The buttery scent of popcorn wafted up from the row below us. Mmm.

"You're back." Gramps raised his bushy eyebrows. "Does this mean you're Hudson's girlfriend now?"

Persistent old man. I grinned and patted his arm. "Still just neighbors."

"Humph." He thumped his cane.

The teams warmed up, and Hudson drew my gaze. He deflected a speeding puck with his blocker. "His stance looks good."

Gramps grunted in disagreement. "His butterfly is stiff. He needs to loosen up."

Despite his criticism, very few pucks made it past Hudson during drills before the teams skated off the ice.

My stomach growled. "Want anything from the concession stands?"

He nodded toward the row in front of us. "Wouldn't mind some of that popcorn."

"Got it. I'll get some snacks." I stood. "Any allergies? Special diets?"

He lifted his guilty gaze. "No salt," he grumbled.

I laughed. "You got it."

By the time I got back to my seat with two bags of popcorn—both plain—and two bottles of water, Beck had won the face-off and shot the puck to Chase. The crowd bellowed its approval.

"Way to go, babe!" Hope yelled .

"You got it, Chase!" Emily shouted.

Hudson skillfully defended the net, but a Vegas player scored through the five-hole in the first period. The Vegas fans in the audience shot to their feet and cheered and jeered. A groan rose from the Blazers' fans.

"I knew his butterfly was weak," Gramps muttered and shook his head.

"It's early in the game." I shoved a handful of popcorn into my mouth, wishing for butter and salt. But I would eat it plain for Gramps and enjoy it, darn it. I swallowed the dry kernels and washed them down with water.

The first intermission arrived with a score of one to nothing in Vegas's favor.

"I read your book." Gramps's cheeks reddened.

I raised my eyebrows and perked up. "Really? Which one?"

"The one you gave away. The Wallflower one." He nodded. "It was…good." His eyes took on a faraway look. "Penelope reminded me of my Grace. She was a shy little thing, except around me." His lips twitched. "She could talk my ear off."

"Aww, that's sweet." My chest warmed at touching a reader with my words. The Blazers might be losing, but I'd won.

"But…" He hesitated, averting his gaze. "How did you know about the…different…sex positions?"

A muffled giggle sounded behind us.

My cheeks burned like the flames of hell. "I…I'll never tell." My awkward chuckle was strained.

Hope laughed out loud.

"Kids these days," Gramps said under his breath, shaking his head.

The Blazers skated onto the ice for the second period. The fans cheered, and I was never more thankful for a reprieve. The chill air cooled my cheeks, and the teams battled for the win. The Blazers only needed one point and they'd clinch a playoff spot.

At the top of the period, the second line scored. But Vegas got around D-man Luc Michaud and drilled the puck past Hudson's left shoulder. I winced. The score was two to one in Vegas's favor at the end of the second period. The Blazers scored two goals in the third period to pull ahead, and expectations ran high in the arena. But Vegas tied the game with another shot past Hudson's shoulder. With fifty-five seconds to go, hooking was called against Vegas. The Blazers' fans took to their feet, roaring with hope. But the Blazers failed to score on the power play, and the game went to three-on-three overtime with sixty-five seconds left in the power play.

I gripped Gramps's arm. I could practically taste the tension in the arena when the puck dropped for overtime. Fans on both sides held their breath. Beck lost the face-off, and Hope groaned. But the Blazers intercepted the puck, and twenty-two seconds into overtime, Luc smashed the biscuit into the back of the net.

The fans detonated , jumping out of their seats and rattling the rafters with stomping, cheering, clapping, and shouting. The team emptied the bench, jumped the boards, and flooded onto the ice to celebrate.

The Blazers had risen from the basement and clinched a spot in the playoffs.

Impulsively, I threw my arms around Gramps's frail shoulders and gave him a hug. "Woo-hoo!"

"Mmph," he responded. But his eyes twinkled in the spotlights.

The goal horn sounded repeatedly, adding to the din of the audience and the rock music. Clinch shone on the mezzanine-level LED board and in lights down on the rink surface. Cameramen scooted onto the ice and focused on the celebration. One camera trained on Hudson and transmitted to the Jumbotron. Goosebumps raised on my arms as player after player bumped helmets and tapped him with their gloves. I danced in my seat, arms high, and ribbons twirling in my stomach.

The girlfriends behind me were off the hook cheering for their men.

Hope sniffled. "I'm just so happy!" she sobbed.

The team circled the rink, saluted the fans with their sticks, then skated off the ice. The announcer introduced the three stars of the game, and Luc was the number one star. His girlfriend's—Brynn's—cheer rose above the clamor.

The noise quieted as fans filed out. Hope leaned forward. "Are you going to Scrimmage's?"

I cocked my head. "Where?"

"The sports bar where the team gathers after games. You can go with us. Hudson will probably be there."

A warm glow spread through my belly that Hope would include me. But I didn't know how Hudson would feel if I showed up, as much as I'd like to see him. Would I be taking advantage of his comp ticket? Inserting myself where I didn't belong? Hudson gave me a ticket to take care of Gramps, not to moon over him. "Thanks, but I'm going to help Gramps to his car."

"You go. An usher can help me." He waved his hand to shoo me away.

I shook my head. "I want to help you." And I did. The man had grown on me.

"Well, if you change your mind, we'll see you there. Just tell the hostess you're Hudson's guest." She patted my shoulder, and the girlfriends left, chatting excitedly. I could admit, if only to myself, a touch of envy .

I stood. "Do you want a wheelchair? They might have one somewhere."

Gramps leaned on his cane and got to his feet. "Of course not," he grumbled. "I can walk." We shuffled out of the row. I took his arm, and we slowly made our way out of the arena. Only a few stragglers were left by the time we reached the car and Steve opened the back door. I helped Gramps get settled inside.

"Thank you, Whitney." His voice was exhausted, weak.

"You're welcome. Go home and rest."

He nodded, and I wasn't sure if he was agreeing or nodding off. My chest tightened.

Steve shut the door, and I stepped back as they drove off.

Gramps was like the grandfather I never had, and I was quickly becoming fond of the gruff but endearing elderly man.

After all, he'd read my book. Sweet.

Keeping him company at games and helping him to the car was my pleasure. He could easily wrap me around his little finger.

Even though I'd only known him a short time, there was little I wouldn't do for Gramps.