Page 81 of Rinkmates

Nina nods. “Yep. Hate to say it, but Mason’s playing the PR game without you, honey. Rumors can be as good as a real relationship. His Insta? Total self-love fest. Mirror selfies for days, and he captions one as ‘your daily mood pill.’” Nina pretends to gag. “He’s full of himself.”

Priya snatches her phone back. “But I like him.”

Nina and I snort. “You like his face,” I add.

And I wonder if that’s my hang-up with Riley, but then I see him curled up with a book, worrying about me, buying tampons as if he wanted to open a black market shop, always checking in, always making me laugh when I need it. No. Riley’s a catch. More than just a pretty face. Only problem is, I don’t think he knows it.

“You could use him too,” Nina says coolly, her PR instincts kicking in. “But don’t fall for him. He’s not who he seems. That man is just out for likes and views.”

“Nina’s right,” I say. “Just be careful with him, okay? Don’t let him play games with your heart.”

“Okay. Maybe I should focus on Derek then.”

“No!” All of us, including Aiden, say at the same time.

Aiden whipsinto the stadium lot, and we can’t help but chat about our go-to game snacks as we make our way inside. I nearly choke on the overpriced parking fee—twenty bucks? Seriously? But Aiden barely bats an eye, no hesitation in pulling out hiswallet. I suggest crowdfunding with our group, but he just shrugs it off. As we enter through the doors, the metal detectors and massive crowd engulf us like a tidal wave. We have to push and weave through the migration of fans heading toward the arena entrance.

But Nina leads us straight to the players’ section, and we walk past walls decked out with memorabilia from Boston’s rich hockey history—jerseys of Bobby Orr and Ray Bourque, and framed photos of iconic victories. I just know Riley’s gonna have his spot in New York someday too. He’s incredible.

Nina flashes her credentials. She’s making security a breeze, and soon we’re in the player section. The heavy door swings open to a quieter, more exclusive area. The soft lighting leads us to plush, cushioned seats near the player benches and penalty boxes.

Aiden looks around the bustling arena with wide green eyes. “This is my first hockey game,” he says.

Priya opens her mouth in mock shock.

“Can you believe it? I’ve really never been to one before.”

Memories of my own hockey days come flooding back as I watch the lights dance on the ice in front of us. “I’ve been to a few,” I say, trying to downplay my experience but unable to hide the sadness in my tone. My coach used to take me to some college league games when we had off days from training. The memory churns in my stomach, causing me to ball my fingers into fists until my knuckles turn white. The familiar hurt in my palms as my nails ram into my flesh gives me a short release. But no. Don’t think of him. Just don’t. It’s not worth it. I’m here to enjoy my weekend.

But my heart starts to race anyway and I try to breathe past the lump rising in my throat.

Aiden shrugs. “Growing up on the farm, there wasn’t much time for anything besides tending to the strawberries and cows.”

Nina lets out a dreamy sigh as she enters the corridor, expertly balancing a tray piled high with popcorn and beers. My eyes widen at the sight of it all—this must have cost a fortune. In passing, I saw one beer cost over nine dollars.

“Farm life sounds so charming,” she muses as everyone takes their snacks. “But let’s be real, I’m way too lazy for all that. Wrangling athletes is more my speed.”

“You do have a way with them,” I say, and since I’m still hesitating on taking the snacks from Nina because they are expensive as hell, she holds the tray out to me with a grimace on her face that could freeze hell over. “Take it.”

I sigh. “Thank you,” I say and take the popcorn and beer.

“No problem, girl.”

For me, it would be a problem. Sometimes I just feel like the odd one out.

Everyone always seems to have endless funds for their weekend plans, while I’m struggling just to afford the bus. If it weren’t for these free tickets or Aiden driving, I wouldn’t even be able to join them. But I’m working to change it. Change it all.

Then, the players hit the ice. I sit up straight, watching their powerful strides send sprays of frost into the air as they start with their pregame warm-up.

“Is it wrong that I want to call each one of them daddy?” Priya sighs next to me, munching away on some popcorn.

“Yes. I think this is your first and last Falcons game,” I say, shooting her a wink.

But despite what I say, my eyes immediately find Riley, his tall frame and broad shoulders impossible to miss. He’s tall without his hockey gear but now, he seems massive. Damn it. I want to call him daddy too.

I’ve watched his past games on my phone during breaks on set, but seeing him in person, all rippling muscle and that deadly focus, sends a jolt through my body. He’s easily the moststunning man I’ve ever seen, and the mere sight of him has me shifting in my seat. I take a long sip of my beer, trying to stifle the flames licking at my core, but it’s not that easy since I know how quickly his fingers work.

As if sensing my gaze, Riley’s head snaps up, his whiskey eyes locking with mine. For a moment, the rest of the world fades away, and it’s just the two of us, caught in a silent exchange of longing. He smiles at me but then his brow furrows as his eyes flit over me. I follow his gaze, my heart sinking as I realize what he must be searching for.

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