Page 32 of Worth the Risk

Luca: Just like you.

Luca: Any idea what the biggest export for Colorado is?

Me: Can’t say that I do.

Luca: Guess.

Me: Beer?

Luca: Funny.

Luca: It’s beef.

Me: Really?

Luca: There’s this place on 44th that serves the most amazing bison Indian tacos. You need to try it.

Me: I’m not sure I could eat bison.

Luca: It doesn’t taste much different from the ground beef you eat from a cow.

Me: That’s true. I’ll have to look it up sometime.

Luca: I wish I could take you there.

Me: I know. Me too.

The therapist that Uncle Bennett recommended is not affiliated with the team, so I feel comfortable telling her about my almost-relationship with Luca. She told me we’d ‘put a pin in that conversation’ so we could focus on giving me coping strategies to help with my fear of flying. For the last two weeks, I’ve been tasked with watching YouTube videos of planes taking off and landing. We’ve also done some ‘field trips’ to Denver International Airport to watch the runways. That airport is massive. I’ve flown in and out of Atlanta all my life, but somehow, this airport feels bigger. Watching the airplanes take off and land was actually quite relaxing. I made the mistake of Googling the airport, and seeing all kinds of conspiracy theories and details about weird things that have happened there. Also the weird horse statue with the glowing eyes … what the hell is up with that?

With the season opener in Denver, we have a full week of events leading up to the first game. Adding in our media days where the players have their pictures taken, interview local media, and do soundbites for in-game material, it’s been a whirlwind. I’ve been working sixteen hour days, and even slept at my desk once. I didn’t mean to sleep there, I was just so exhausted I put my head down for a minute. Six hours later, my desk phone rang and scared the shit out of me.

I’ve only seen Luca a couple of times in the past few weeks. We had one meeting where I had to ask him a few questions for an article I was posting to the team website, and fortunately he was with other teammates. I think we both kept it professional? I really don’t know. I’m struggling. And honestly, I hope he is, too.

The day of the first game, I’m at the arena at seven in the morning. It’s a full day for me with press, interviews, and whatnot. Plus, it’s my first ‘real’ hockey game. At the home preseason games I’ve spent the majority of each game posting on social media, and couldn’t watch the entirety of the games. I never realized how draining creating social media content actually is. The team expects immediate updates on scores, penalties, and fights across every social media platform we have. Now I realize what a poor time it was for the terrible terrors to take a month off. It would be so much faster if we each were responsible for one social media channel to update throughout the games.

Admittedly, I’ve Googled Wolves videos. Well, specifically, I’ve Googled Luca. If I thought he was sexy before, seeing him in action was enough to put him on a pedestal no other man will ever be able to reach.

Three hours before the start of the game, I’m in my arena office. It’s basically a little closet in the basement, but it works for the few times I’m here. My office at the Sports Facility Zone, where I spend the majority of my office time, is much nicer. But here, I’m supposed to be shadowing the team more often than not. So the office space doesn’t really matter.

I’ve got my back to the door when I hear someone open and close the door. As I spin around, I see Luca in his game day suit. Wow. Suit porn is a real thing.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” I whisper.

He reaches behind his head and scratches the back of his neck. I’ve noticed he does this when he’s uncomfortable or nervous.

“Do you need something?” I ask. He shakes his head.

“I just … I just had to see you, Han. How are you?”

“I’m, umm, I’m great. Of course, I’m great. Love this job. Love the team. Love the Denver,” I stammer. A hint of a smile washes over his face. “How are you, Luke?”

He winces as I call him by his hockey name. “It’s Luca to you. Always Luca. And it’s wonderful knowing you love the Denver.”

Heat crawls up my décolletage and onto my face. “I meant I love Denver. I’m enjoying living here.”

“I’m glad,” he says softly.

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