Page 54 of Choke

But he’s not…

Adrian doesn’t stop to check on the other player, who’s still lying on the ice. He gets to the puck before his teammate and shoots. Its speed prevents me from seeing it make contact with the upper corner of the net. The crowd erupts, and he doesn’t celebrate. He skates toward the bench with no celebration, no look of satisfaction. His head whips around toward us, and my breath hitches.

There’s no way he can see us, right?

I swallow hard.

Maybe I get the hockey thing.

Rosie leans in as the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the first period. Her voice laced with amusement. “You’re looking a little flushed, babe.”

Standing, I force myself to laugh.

“It’s hot in here.”

She loops her arm through mine as we walk toward the concession, chattering about the game.

“Rose, I didn’t know you were such a hockey fan.”

“Oh, you have no idea. Just wait until you meet Greg.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “He’s such a babe and really a nice guy. He said we can meet him after the game, and he’ll drive us to the party.”

I try to ignore the nerves that fire over the blind date I allowed her to set up. Well. Allow might be generous. She suggested we ask her friends on the team if we could crash the party, and I said that sounded great. It wasn’t until later that she mentioned setting me up with the other Team Captain. Part of my brain screamed that it was a bad idea;I was poking the bear. The other part of me is so fucking angry he violated my space that I immediately agreed.

Walking, we pass by a store lined with merchandise, including jerseys. I pull her toward it, having a devious idea. She skips away to a clothing rack, flipping through the jerseys. Some are white, and some are a beautiful blue color. She pulls one out and holds it up with a triumphant expression.

“Look! Get this one!” She squeals.

The silly beaver on the front makes me roll my eyes. I spin it around, seeing #55. The name Liberty is in bold blue letters. I run my fingers across the fabric; it’s rough and scratchy, like him. I consider buying it, putting it on, and wearing his jersey. I imagine him seeing me in it. The excitement of it is shocking and unexpected. It also feels so safe, as if he would want or expect me to wear his number, so I shake my head and put it back.

Rosie’s eyes narrow, and a gleam of adventure flashes through them.

“What are you thinking, Alexandria?” She rolls the ‘r,’ in Alexandria.

I step to the next rack, filled with emerald-green jerseys. On the front, a large Sasquatch makes a mean face. I flip through each until I find the one I want. Then, I call Rosie over my shoulder to confirm I have the right one.

He thinks he can come to my home without an invitation?

“Greg’s the Captain, right? The Grizzly?”

She brushes against me as she steps up to see what’s in my hands and sucks a breath in, giggling.

“You’re so bad. If he sees you in another guy’s jersey, he’ll lose it. It’s super taboo for a guy’s girl to wear another guy’s number.”

A smile spreads across my face, and I must have no sense of self-preservation at all.

“Good thing I’m not his girl.”

The Grizzly

Adrian

That. Fucking. Brat.

My body heats with rage as I watch the two guys sitting in the seats I saved for Lex. Getting those tickets was nearly impossible and required me to call in a huge favor from the league managers. I’m so focused on these two fucking idiots that I don’t see Ronan coming until he slams into me. The action grabs the attention of the two guys in her seats, and they cheer loudly at us.

I don’t smile, and within a few seconds, they can’t ignore my expression. Their faces drop, and they exchange a puzzled glance. Ronan slams his hand on my back, laughing loudly and spraying his water bottle against the glass in front of the guys. They laugh again.

He spins to block me from their view.

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