Page 63 of Puck You Very Much

“He wouldn’t have missed this in the past.”

She was right. Attending hockey games together had always been a family event. Rachel was the only one not enthusiastic about the sport, but the rest of the family—their mom, dad, both of them—had loved spending the evening at the arena.

However, things changed, people passed away, and traditions were broken.

“But Mom would be happy that we’re still going together,” Maddie suddenly stated firmly, as if she had spent the last two minutes searching for the silver lining. In fact, Lucy was pretty sure that was what she was doing: looking for the good while Lucy rued the bad.

Lucy smiled broadly as she reached for Maddie’s hand and intertwined their fingers. “She would have.”

At the same time, Lucy couldn’t help but wonder: What would their mother have said if she knew Lucy had slept with one of the players?

Chapter 19

The Hawks won five to one.

Lucy should have been happy about it, primarily because Leslie would be happy. Instead, her stomach was filled with fist-sized rocks when she walked into the Ice Lounge an hour after the game. Matt had texted her that the team and a few other people from the organization would be there to celebrate the win. Maddie had to get up early the next day, but Lucy couldn’t find an excuse not to go.

There was the fact that Dax was there, of course, but she couldn’t tell Matt that was the reason she didn’t want to go. And she wouldn’t act any differently simply because Dax…and his hands…and his laugh… No!

So, with her shoulders squared and her chin raised as always, she walked into the Ice Lounge just after ten o’clock. The Lounge combined past and present with its red leather stools, polished wooden floor, and rustic, industrial ceiling lighting. As always, 80s music blared from the speakers, since Carl, the bar owner, had grown up during that period, while a mix of students, Hawks fans, Hawks groupies, and a few lost tourists filled the space.

The hockey players were easy to spot in the bar, despite the dry ice rising from what seemed to be every cocktail here. It was theIceLounge, after all—there was more to the name than just the bar that looked like stacked blocks of ice. No wonder hockey players were attracted to the establishment: Carl had planned it that way.

The Hawks sat on one of the raised areas that was designated as the VIP lounge by a heavy red cord, exuding so much testosterone that Lucy almost saw it hanging in the air like fog. Then again, that was probably the dry ice. Nevertheless, Leon’s voice could drown out a truck stuck in reverse.

“To Temple and West, who, for the first time today, didn’t play like eight-year-old girls!” he shouted.

“Hey, that’s discriminatory,” Fox remarked. “Eight-year-old girls would have been better than they were these last few weeks.”

“Oh hell, we get it.” That was Dax, and Lucy’s neck hairs automatically stood up.

She swallowed, but bravely continued strolling toward the platform.

“If you don’t want anyone to annoy you, Dax, keep playing well,” Matt replied cleverly. “Fuck, today, it seemed like you’d been playing together for years! What the hell happened?”

“Drank an old wise woman’s tea,” Jack remarked, shrugging and sipping his beer.

“Yup,” Dax confirmed, a fleeting grin flying across his face.

Lucy’s stomach clenched and her mouth went dry. Had the two of them made a truce or something?

“Is this old wise woman Leslie, and did she put drugs in the tea?” she asked loudly, stepping over the red cord and smiling at Jack. After all, when she fixated on Jack, she didn’t notice if Dax was looking at her.

Was he looking at her?

“Hey, don’t say that so loudly,” Leon said, shocked. “Or we’ll be accused of doping…though I’d drink anything Leslie gave me.” He made a face. “She’s horrible, not sweet like you."

“I’m horrible, too, not sweet,” she clarified, annoyed, as she plopped into the only free chair that was thankfully nowhere near Dax. “But today I have nothing bad to say about you. You played great and all the women at the bar are watching you.” She nodded to the right, because the female attention the team members were receiving was impossible to miss.

Leon grinned, then suddenly put on a serious expression and gave them a barely perceptible nod. Lucy snorted and ordered a beer from a waitress who was hurrying by, while Matt looked at Leon in confusion.

“What was that?” he asked, shaking his head. “Are you James Bond now or something?”

Leon shrugged. “I’m simply increasing my chances with them. Women like the stoic, quiet type.”

“Nonsense.” Matt clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Otherwise, all the women here would be throwing themselves at Moreau!” He nodded at their broad-shouldered, taciturn goalkeeper.

“They do,” he replied soberly.

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