Page 18 of Broken Promises

“Yes, Mrs. Monroe.”

I roll my eyes. “Sorry,” I say to Maggie. She just laughs and offers the guy on her side some of her popcorn.

“I can get you and Gideon tickets and backstage passes if you want. Declan is going to one of the New York shows because they’ll be there for a game. He’ll also be in Boston for the last show in March.” It seems like the least I can do for her since she let me sit with her and apparently bring security with me.

Maggie squeals so loud the guys hear her on the ice. Gideon turns and sees how excited she is and smiles. You can tell from the way he’s looking at her that he absolutely adores her. Declan, on the other hand, is looking very confused. I realize it’s probably my face. I tend to either scowl or show every emotion. Nothing neutral. And Maggie’s squeal was alarming.

I catch Declan’s eye and smile. He returns it, all the worry and confusion fading quickly, and he starts waving with a little too much excitement. I laugh at him.

“That man is obsessed with you. I can tell. I have an eye for these things,” Maggie says, bumping my shoulder with hers.

“He’s something alright,” I reply, not acknowledging her words.

We watch the rest of warm-ups in companionable silence. The sounds and smells of the arena are familiar. We’re in the front row so I can smell the cold of the ice and the rubber of the pucks. There’s always an underlying scent of sweat and fried food in ice rinks. I only made a few of Declan’s college games, but my dad was a huge hockey fan. So I went to a lot of the local college games growing up.

Before I know it, both teams are getting into position for the puck drop. “Who is that man and why is he waving at us?” I ask Maggie. She looks at the large, dark-eyed defensemen and laughs before waving back.

“That’s just Martinez. It’s easier just to wave and get it over with or he’ll keep doing it.”

I do as she says, and he immediately sets his stick down to wait for the play. Weird.

“He does it every game. Says waving to the other player’s wives gets them riled up, and they need the aggression to win.”

I laugh so hard I snort when I realize where I heard his name. “Cameron, right? Dec said he was his friend against his will. I thought he was joking.”

Maggie laughs along with me. “I’m not surprised.”

The sound of a whistle has my head turning back to the game. Declan skates in front of me with a frown. “You’re not watching,” he mouths.

“Sorry!” I yell and make a show of facing forward and paying attention.

“Men need so much attention,” Maggie jokes, but I notice her focus is on Gideon.

“I can’t make another game until right before Thanksgiving. So I better pay attention, or I won’t hear the end of it for weeks.”

Maggie and I watch the Bruisers dominate the first period. Dec is playing with his line like he has been with them for years and not two weeks. It’s really impressive. They’re only up by one, but they’ve kept the puck on Tampa’s side for most of it.

“I’m sorry you have to sit down here with me,” I say to Maggie while we wait for the next period to start.

“I always sit here. I like watching the game up close,” she says, waving off my apology.

“I’d like to sit with you at all the games, if that’s okay with you. I’m not sure my screaming would be appreciated up there,” I say, gesturing to the WAG box with my chin.

“I would love another wife to sit with!” She’s practically bouncing in her seat. Her joy is contagious and soon I’m smiling so hard it hurts. “Oh, they’re playing!”

I turn just in time to see a player from Tampa taking a cheap shot at Declan’s knees. I’m out of my seat and screaming while gesturing wildly at the dirty player. His knee injuries aren’t a secret. He’s been out for part of a season more than once to have surgery on one or both.

A ref turns to look at me since I’m making so much noise. “Don’t look at me! Pay attention to that dirty shithead!” I’m pointing at the asshole who tried to hurt Dec. “Do your fucking job, ref!”

Maggie is cackling next to me. “I like you, Willa. You can sit with me anytime.”

I take my seat, crossing my arms and scowling at the back of the Tampa player’s head. “I’m watching you 39!” I yell.

Gideon wins the face-off, passing it directly to Declan, who skates like his ass is on fire, easily maneuvering around Tampa’s defense. He lines up the shot and slaps it. I watch the puck fly from his stick directly into the top left corner of Tampa’s net. The lights flash and the horn sounds.

“Let’s fucking go, hockey boy!” I’m screaming and jumping. You’d think it was a game that mattered and not just preseason. Between the excitement that is hockey and watching Declan, I’m having a great time.

Declan raises his stick and points it right at me. “That one’s for you, Princess!” he shouts over the crowd. I smile and touch my heart. He returns the gesture before getting back in position. It’s something we started doing when I had to leave immediately after his games without being able to see him.

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