Page 57 of The Pucking Wrong Man

I bit down on my lip nervously, wondering what was going on.

Camden finished talking to the guy and joined the rest of the team before skating out with Ari Lancaster to the ice with three other players. The Dallas goalie was already in the net.

And the game began.

A few minutes in, and I was already a fan.

The game was fast and fun, and Camden had already slammed several players into the boards.

Another player had already tried to punch someone.

Absolutely epic.

“Ma’am,” a voice said from next to me. I jumped in surprise, looking over to see the same employee Camden had been speaking to standing in the aisle next to me. “I’m going to need you to come with me,” he told Alena.

“What do you mean?” Alena asked, staring at him confused.

“Just follow me, please. We need you in a different seat, or we’re going to have to ask you to leave,” the man said sternly.

“Who do you think you?—”

“Next step is security, ma’am,” he said fiercely.

Alena opened and closed her mouth, kind of like a guppy fish, glancing at me for help.

I shrugged my shoulders, giving her a sheepish look. I was honestly a little relieved she would be leaving. I’d learned Alena was dangerous when she got excited. I wasn’t sure my leg could survive her reaction if the Knights actually scored a goal.

She huffed as she slid past me, muttering something about talking to a manager. The employee seemed nonplussed about her reaction, his face remaining blank as she started bitching at him.

Maybe he was used to delivering bad news to guests.

As he led her away, my gaze bounced back and forth to where Camden was playing on the ice and Alena was walking away. Did Camden have something to do with this?

I mean of course, he did.

He’d seemed like he was ready to march into the stands when he saw me almost fall after Alena had grabbed me.

A flood of warmth spread through my insides. Even out on the ice in front of thousands of people...he’d looked out for me.

I had the insane urge to cry.

I couldn’t get used to this—having someone care about me.

It wouldn’t last.

But maybe I could just savor it while it was happening. It could become a sweet memory I held onto for the rest of my life.

Biting down on my lip, I stared down at the game where a Knights player and a Chicago player were battling against the boards for the puck. Camden zoomed by my section, stealing a glance at me as he passed.

I swear he winked.

By the time we got to the third period, I’d become a big fan of hockey.

This sport was wild. Not that I had a lot of experience with other sports, but I couldn’t imagine they were more fun to watch.

The Knights were up three to zero, and the other team was in desperation mode. Or at least it seemed like that. Fights were breaking out every couple of minutes, and the boards were rattling and shaking as the players slammed into them.

I watched as an opposing player tried to take the puck from Camden. He did some fancy footwork that would put any dancer’s movements to shame and somehow escaped with it. Everyone around me was suddenly on their feet, screaming as Camden raced down the ice. I pushed up from my seat, ignoring the twinge in my leg as I held my breath and watched him approach the net.

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