Page 132 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
He shoots me a wobbly smile, and I love it. I love him.
He cares. Even though my brother was horrible, even though I surely must have damaged his job...He cares. He is here to see me.
Perhaps there can be a future between us.
Perhaps.
My time in the box ends. I skate back to our bench different. Changed. Steady.
“You good?” Coach asks.
I nod. For the first time since Ashcove, I am.
Montreal ties it up early in the third. But I’m not worried. Not now.
My next shift, I win the face-off cleanly, no shoving needed. I find Dmitri with a backhand pass through traffic. He one-times it but the goalie makes the save.
The minutes tick down. Every stoppage in play, I search the press section. Sebastian’s still there. I feel settled. Resolved.
Troy makes a huge save in our end. Noah corrals the rebound, fires it up to me at center ice. I catch the pass in stride, Montreal’s defenders backing off, scared of my speed.
I cut across the blue line, drawing both defenders to me. At the last second, I drop it back to Noah trailing the play. He sends it right back, a perfect give-and-go. I’m alone in front.
The puck hits my stick. Time slows. I can feel Sebastian watching.
Top corner. The goal horn blares. Hats rain down onto the ice.
My first hat trick.
The team mobs me, but I’m searching the press section.
Sebastian grins at me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Sebastian
The journalists rush for the press room, elbowing for the best seats, hungry for quotes after Luke's stunning performance. I slip into a back row, pulse thundering. I shouldn't be here. But I had to see him, one more time before tomorrow night when he chooses someone else. I want every second I can have with him, even if Clark would be furious if he knew I was here.
A few journalists look at me curiously, but then the door opens, and the Blizzards’ head coach enters, followed by Evan and Luke.
I’m scared to meet his eyes. I’m at his workplace.
But when I finally look at his eyes, and they flare, I think maybe everything is as it should be after all. I don’t see repulsion or disgust or regret. I see...longing.
He only moves his gaze away after Evan nudges him.
Apparently, someone has asked a question. I hear his tenor voice talk about hockey things I only somewhat understand. Finally, someone asks a question I do understand.
“Mr. Hawthorne, what caused your shift in demeanor during the game?”
Luke hesitates, clutching his glass of water. “I found some extra motivation in the crowd.”
“Have you decided on who you are going to pick forSeeking Mr. Right?” another journalist shouts.
“That is a careful secret. But I’m hopeful about it.”
My heart thunders. Finally, the room empties of people. Luke lingers in front, and Evan says goodbye to him, shooting me a curious look. I pretend to linger.
