Page 77 of Mr. Broody

We sit back in our seats and wait for the game to start. A short while later, the arena lights dim, and colored lights streak across the ice.

Bodhi gets up on his knees. “It’s about to start!” His little hands come together. When Henry is introduced, he jumps off the chair to go to the glass, pounding his fists.

I’m distracted by Henry skating up to meet Rowan and Tweetie. I forgot what it was like to watch him play, to see him in the spotlight doing what he loves. The little boy grown up into a hockey god.

There’s a lot of back and forth in the first period, and Conor does an exceptional job of not allowing Minnesota to score. Rowan is fast and smooth like all the reporters say. And Tweetie is definitely a chirper. I see his mouth moving more than his stick at times. But seeing all three of them together is something rare. How in sync they are together, their movements flawless as they pass the puck and seem to know instinctively where the puck is going to go.

“Impressive, right?” Kyleigh asks.

“You’d think they’ve been playing together for years.”

She nods, and our attention goes back to the game.

Finally, in the second period, Henry gets a breakaway and Rowan speeds to catch up. Henry circles behind the net and passes it to Rowan, who is ready and tries the shot but misses. The puck ends up back in Henry’s possession, and he uses that wrist shot that’s been working for him all season, and he scores. The buzzer goes off, and the crowd goes wild while all his teammates huddle around him.

Bodhi stands on his chair cheering, and Kyleigh and I both go to grab him to make sure he doesn’t fall. Kyleigh backs off when she sees me doing it.

“Yay, Daddy!” he shouts.

After the huddle of players disperses, Henry skates by and winks. Oh, I’m in deep, deep trouble from the way my stomach flutters with butterflies.

“God, he’s so sexy with his kid,” a woman behind me says.

“Is that the girlfriend or something?” The woman next to her clearly isn’t trying to keep me from hearing her.

Kyleigh side-eyes me because she probably hears it too. It’s hard not to, now that the roars of the crowd have died down.

“That’s Magic’s,” one woman says. “So, I assume she must be.”

“They don’t look that special.”

Kyleigh grits her teeth.

I don’t react, but it really makes me wish I was wearing Henry’s jersey just to shove it in their face that I’m Henry Hensley’s girl.

When the second period ends, I figure we should get out of here for a bit. “Bodhi, want to go get a pretzel?”

His eyes go wide. “Yeah.”

“I’m coming too.” Kyleigh stands, glaring at the women behind us. “I need to make sure I have a lot of energy for after the game.”

The women scoff, and I laugh with Kyleigh once we’re at the stairs. Bodhi looks at us as if we’re crazy. His hands find their way into both of our hands as we walk through the busy area to get to the concessions.

“I see now why Rowan keeps begging me to sit in a suite,” Kyleigh says.

“The fans always a little brutal?” I ask, remembering college, but I’m sure the professional league is an entirely different beast.

“Some of the women aren’t nice. We have the men they’re dreaming about in our beds.” She shrugs, and we walk up to the concession stand to buy our pretzels.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Bodhi says.

We head over to the single-stall family bathroom, and after Bodhi goes in, I ask Kyleigh a question I’ve been holding on to.

“Do you think…? I mean, do women… you know, during away games?”

“You mean are the rumors true?” she asks, tearing off a piece of her pretzel.

I nod. I’ve always wondered if the temptation of women throwing themselves at Henry was too much for him to say no to. I know he’d never cheat on me. I just wonder how many he has turned down. Or how many he hasn’t.

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