Page 26 of Power Play

We stopped talking right around the same time that I fessed up to my infatuation.

Then, there was that time in college when I gathered my courage to approach my crush. He’d played baseball for BU, and oh, man, but I’d lived to see him at games wearing his uniform. His butt? To die for, I’m not exaggerating. My bumbling question about us going out on a date together ended with him busting a gut, laughing. I prayed so hard that day for the ground beneath home plate to open up and swallow me whole.

My life is full of awkward instances just like these. Rinse and repeat.

Hope is a dangerous thing, something I’ve learned pretty well over the years. There’s no way I’m bringing hope anywhere into the equation with Duke Harrison.

My phone buzzes with an incoming message and I reach for it. A Twitter DM. My heart kicks into gear, fluttering in my chest.

“You okay?”

I ignore Casey’s question and swipe at my phone screen to open the message from Duke.

Interested in catching the game tonight? I’ve got three tickets with your name on them. I’ll answer one of your questions after I clean out the Red Wings on the ice.

There’s no use in even pretending I don’t know what game he’s referring to. The Blades are up against the Detroit Red Wings tonight, and it’s been one of the most highly anticipated matches all season.

After last year’s playoffs, the Red Wings’ primary center, Andre Beaumont, was traded to the Blades. I would have bought tickets myself but the price bypassed myTribunebudget.

When I speak, my voice is a bit rusty with shock. “You want to watch the Blades play tonight?”

Casey slips off my desk, taking with her another stack of papers. This time, she does the proper thing and picks up after herself. “Sure. Want to hit up our local? It’s game day and youknowthey’re gonna have those amazing BBQ jalapeño nachos tonight.”

“No, I mean, do you want togoto the game. Like, physically call ourselves an Uber and head down to the arena to watch?”

My coworker’s eyes go wide in understanding. “Oh. Oh, my God, umyes, I would love to go. How did you get tickets? Nosebleed seats were going for over a hundred bucks a pop last time I checked.”

I hesitate in telling her the truth, but it seems that I don’t have to. She claps a hand over her mouth, theatrically murmuring behind her splayed fingers. “Duke invited you?”

I nod, wishing that I could squash the ridiculous hope blooming in my chest.

I don’tdohope, for a variety of reasons.

“Girl, I told you that he was interested in you. Don’t even pretend otherwise.”

“He’s not,” I protest weakly, because I’m not all that sure that I’m even telling the truth anymore.IsDuke Harrison interested in me? As unlikely as it seems, why else would he be going out of his way to invite me to pizza or to a game? Both activities, mind you, which have been on his dime.

I need to stay strong.

Even if I do re-read his message at least ten times (okay, fifteen) over the next few hours.

True enough toDuke’s word, when Casey, Caleb, and I appear at the ticket-window at the arena later that night, there are three tickets waiting for me. I would have invited Jenny and Mel, but neither are hockey fans.

Not that Caleb is, either, but he’s a total fan of hockeyplayers, which counts in my book.

We shuffle quickly through the lines of people waiting, and then opt to grab some food from the concession stands before heading to our seats. While I go for a classic hot dog (ketchup and mayo, no relish), Casey and Caleb both purchase nachos drenched with every kind of topping known to mankind.

In fact, I’m not actually sure I see the chips at all.

If I had ever questioned their twinhood, my disbelief has now been suspended.

“I can’t believe you’re wearing that jersey,” Casey says, shaking her head as we pluck our way through the throng of people.

“What? It’s a free country.”

I’m wearing a Red Wings jersey that my dad purchased for me the year before he was diagnosed with cancer. To this day, Frank Denton continues to be the biggest hockey fan I’ve ever known. Over the years, he made a point to purchase jerseys from every team in the NHL. As his only child, I’ve got them all. Tampa Bay Lightning. Chicago Blackhawks. Dallas Stars. The list goes on.

Naturally, I have a Blades jersey tucked away in the top drawer of my dresser, though it’s not part of my inheritance from Dad. The Blades were a very new expansion team to Boston at the time of my father’s passing.

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