Page 46 of Dating Goals
There’s fire in her eyes. It’s slightly frightening.
The third period turns into a goaltending duel. Their netminder finds his groove, and I’m called on to preserve our lead. Tyler delivers a bone-crushing hit that sends the crowd into a frenzy, and Anika is right there with them, pounding the glass.
With five minutes left, Lugano pulls their goalie. Six attackers bearing down, cycling the puck around our zone. Peter blocks a shot with his body, grimacing through the pain. Christoph clears once, but they regroup.
A point shot through traffic. I lose sight of it momentarily but drop to my butterfly anyway, feeling it hit my pad and skitter wide. The crowd exhales collectively.
I glance at Anika. She’s chewing her thumbnail, completely invested, her eyes tracking every player’s movement. When Imake the save, she clutches her heart dramatically, then gives me a look that’s half relief, half…something else. Something that makes me want to stop every puck in the universe if it’ll make her look at me that way again.
Final seconds tick down. Lugano’s last desperate attempt is broken up by Tyler, who feeds Peter for the empty netter. 3-0 final. The buzzer sounds, and we’ve got the win.
I’m riding the high of the win as I make my way through the arena tunnels, freshly showered, my hair damp against my Titans hoodie. My body aches in that satisfying post-victory way, but my mind is fixated on one thing only.
Anika.
Anika and her mysteriously well-worn Visp jersey. Anika and her “Hopp Schwiiz!!” banner. Anika, who sings along to Richi.
I spot her waiting near the player exit, chatting animatedly with a couple of other fans. She’s thrown her puffy coat back on over her jersey, but the collar still peeks out. When she sees me, she breaks into a dazzling smile that hits me square in the chest.
Breaking free of the group of Visp fans to greet me, she lets her gaze unabashedly rake over me. “Hey there, hockey star.”
“Hey there, hockey fan,” I counter, unable to keep the amusement from my voice.
She shrugs innocently, but she doesn’t fool me for a second. But before I can call her out, I hear the voices of my teammates behind me.
“Griff! You coming to celebrate?” Tyler calls out, followed closely by Christoph, Peter, and Kovy, our star defenseman from Russia.
“Yeah, in a bit,” I answer, then gesture toward Anika. “Guys, this is Anika. Anika, these are some of the guys. Tyler, Kovy, Christoph, and Peter.”
“Jungs!” Anika calls out, launching into rapid-fire Swiss German that has Christoph and Peter laughing and responding just as quickly. Her hands gesture wildly as she recreates what must be key plays from the game.
Tyler shoots me a confused look, and I shrug. I’m just as lost. But watching Anika’s eyes light up as she talks hockey makes my chest feel tight in the best way.
“Was für ein hammer Spiel!” Her eyes are bright with excitement, hands flying as she acts out what I think is a goal from the second period.
I stand there, understanding maybe one word in ten, feeling both impressed and slightly out of the loop.
I think she just said it was a great game. Christoph is nodding enthusiastically. She even surprises Kovy by responding to him in what sounds like passable Russian, which earns her a booming laugh and a clap on the shoulder that makes me instinctively step closer to her.
The guys are being friendly but not overly so, and I find myself cataloging each interaction with unusual scrutiny.
Watching her, I feel something shift inside me. It’s that feeling when a perfect pass lands right on your tape, or when you make a glove save that even you didn’t think was possible. That click of everything falling exactly into place.
Tyler grins and gives me a look and whispers, “Where did you find her?”
“Oh!” She suddenly catches herself and switches to English. “Sorry, Griffin. Tyler. I was just saying that diagonal pass across the neutral zone in the second period was chef’s kiss. I haven’t seen anything like it since Aebischer retired.”
“You know your hockey,” Peter says, impressed. “And what do you think of our netminder, Crash McGregor?”
Peter slaps me on the back, making me stumble a little closer to Anika.
Anika throws a disinterested side-eye my way. “Eh. Not bad for a backup goalie!”
“And that banner!” Peter suddenly exclaims, setting off a round of laughter among the Swiss players. “Hopp Schwiiz! For a league game?” He mimics her enthusiastic sign-waving, and several of the Swiss players burst into laughter.
Anika’s cheeks flush pink, but she’s laughing too.
“You were the loudest person in section three,” Christoph says, grinning as he pops open a sports drink. “Very passionate.”
