Page 37 of The Game She Hates

Goal!

25

Pearl Davis

The crowd erupts after Zane’s goal, but I stand frozen—not because of the deafening cheers, but because Zane’s eyes are locked onto me. He wears this grateful and somehow flirty expression, as if those goals he just scored have something to do with me.

I can’t believe he spotted me in this crowd. How did he even know where to look? The first time his eyes found me, I thought I was gonna pass out.

I had a feeling that coming to this game was a bad idea. It wasn’t fair or smart to subject my poor heart to watching Zane play when I was trying so hard to move on from him.

Robyn had convinced me there was no way he could spot us from where we were sitting. Well, she was wrong—very wrong. Now, I definitely regret coming here.

I wonder what he’s thinking. I’ve been ghosting him for days, and now here I am at his game, wearing his jersey, all because my persuasive best friend insisted it was a fan tradition. Robyn had an extra one she got from Zane, so she convinced me I’d fit right in if I wore it.

The way he’s looking at me... It’s making it hard to hide this smile and the heat rushing to my face. How am I going to convince him that I want nothing to do with him after this.

“What was that?” Robyn exclaims, her voice raspy and strained from hours of screaming and cheering.

Both teams have already left the ice. They departed after a joyous celebration from the Glaciers that included gloves and sticks tossed in the air.

“What?” I ask, feigning ignorance. The glances Zane threw in my direction were hard to miss.

“You know what I’m talking about! Did you and Zane just have a moment? I mean, moments? Every time he scored, he basically dedicated the goal to you.” A smirk is playing at the corners of her lips as she calls me out.

“I saw him looking this way. Look at all these women wearing his number,” I deflect, my gaze shifting to the fans filtering out of the arena. Some head toward the locker rooms, eager to catch a glimpse of their favorite players and maybe even get an autograph or two.

Robyn’s knowing expression doesn’t escape me; she sees right through my feeble attempt to deny the obvious.

“I’ve been at every one of his games. That’s not Zane Ortiz. When he looks into the stands, he never zeroes in on one person. And the way he played the whole game... I promise, it’s like he was a different guy out there.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, puzzled by her assertion. Zane only seemed to notice me toward the end of the game, so I’m certain I’m not the one behind this new player.

“He played differently, his usual anger and edge were lacking, but there was also this new intensity about him. I can’t quite explain it. But what I can say with conviction is that he is absolutely smitten with my roommate.” Robyn’s words finally punctuate our conversation as she stands up.

We wait a moment to exit, letting the crowd thin out a little. Most are in a hurry to beat the traffic, but our drive from Boston to Bedford isn’t bad at all.

As we make our way out of the arena and into the cool night air, we slide into the car. Robyn takes the driver’s seat. I’m glad she’s driving. Navigating through this crowd of loud hockey fanatics seems too risky for me.

“P, tell me the truth. Do you have feelings for Zane Ortiz?” Robyn asks, her eyes focused on the road as traffic eases up. If she were watching my reaction right now, she’d know the answer to this question. Robyn can read me very well.

“I can’t have feelings for Zane. You know that.”

“But you do,” she says, her tone more of a statement than a question.

There’s no point in denying it. I haven’t stopped thinking about him no matter how much I’ve tried to distance myself.

Admitting to liking him feels like betraying myself, my past experiences, and what I’ve learned from dating guys like him.

But God sees my heart. Robyn has an inkling too. I’m not fooling anyone.

“I like him, and I don’t know how to stop.”

“I didn’t need you to confirm you liked him. I knew it. It was selfish of me to take you to the game. I’m sorry. I just wanted us to keep him.” She purses her lips.

“Keep him? He’s not a stray puppy, Robs,” I laugh, feeling some relief.

“I mean keep him in our circle, you know? I think he’s a pretty great guy, and not just because I’ve always been Team Zane Ortiz. Zane off the ice is pretty cool too.”

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