Page 38 of Playmaker

For the most part, aside from the Wave, we could ignore just about anything beyond the glass. The big gap was as conspicuous as a defender’s missing tooth, but it wasn’t moving unlike the damned Wave, and it wasn’t like anyone else knew who’d bought out that section.

Only Sabrina knew.

I wondered if that was the point. From the way Sabrina was clearly trying to not to look anywhere near section 114… it was working.

God, please don’t let it mess with her concentration.

At least we couldn’t hear the sports commentators, because they were guaranteed to be speculating about it. Fans probably wondered what the deal was. Our teammates undoubtedly noticed the gap in the crowd.

But Sabrina knew exactly why it was empty.

For her, it wasn’t just an unusual visual or something to catch her eye at an inopportune moment. It was the most blatant wayDoran McAvoy could tell her how little he cared about what she did. He might buy out an entire section of seats, but could he bother to show up? Or have anyone else show up and use those tickets? Absolutely the fuck not.

I skated by her as we set up for a faceoff. “You good?”

Her jaw was tight, but she nodded sharply. “I’m good. Let’s do this.”

I flashed her a smile, and the corners of her mouth twitched ever so slightly upward.

Sabrina won the faceoff. Like, decisively. I didn’t think the other center’s stick had even touched the ice before Sabrina was off and running with the puck. She passed it to Laws, who bullied her way past a defender into the offensive zone.

Sims hung back near the blue line, so I went in to join the fray, and I was almost immediately in a puck battle against the wall with two of their players and one of our forwards.

Then a stick appeared out of nowhere, darting between my skate and another player’s. An instant later, both the stick and puck were gone.

I’d barely turned around before Sabrina fired the puck to Anastasia at the edge of the crease, and Anastasia tipped it in behind the goalie’s back.

The roar of the hometown crowd after a goal was always intoxicating, but it had nothing on the sheer triumph on Sabrina’s face. As she nearly bowled over Anastasia with a hug, she was beaming as if everything in her world was absolutely perfect.

I joined my teammates for celebratory hugs.

Sabrina clapped my back with her glove. “Pretty sure you’re getting the secondary assist on that one.”

I blinked. “I am?”

“I think so. The puck was on your stick when I grabbed it.”

I scowled playfully. “So you robbed me!”

Her smile turned to an innocent grin. “I figured you wouldn’t mind. And I mean…” She gestured up at the Jumbotron, which still showed GOAL in flashing red letters.

I gave her a fake punch to the shoulder. “Whatever.”

She cackled all the way back to the bench for fist bumps.

As we took our seats on the bench and let the next shift hit the ice, I threw back some water, then leaned forward and stole a look at Sabrina. Her attention was fixed on the players even as she and Anastasia had an animated discussion about something. Strategizing, probably. Maybe deciding on a set play for their next shift.

She didn’t look once toward section 114. Didn’t look the least bit bothered by it, either.

Not until the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the period. At that point, we were out on the ice again; Sims and I had just started our shift, and Sabrina had been out with her line for over a minute and a half. As soon as the period ended, her façade slipped a little. Her gaze flicked toward 114, which was the only section that didn’t have people filing out to refill beers and hit the restroom.

I skated up to her and clapped her shoulder with my glove. “Hey. You good?”

Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “Yeah.” We started toward the bench. “Just still can’t believe he…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Well, it’s his loss.”

She turned to me, eyebrows up.

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