Page 27 of My Virgin Puck

Why would they let me know? No one knows about us yet. We’re just hanging out. The team think I’m just the girl from the office, right? They don’t know we’re in love.

Maybe he doesn’t love you. Maybe he’s run away.

“GAME OVER! VIKINGS WIN!”

The game flashes before my eyes. I don’t even hear the roar when the crowd seals the win with an ear-splitting chant that shatters the protective glass surrounding the ice.

It’s all a blur to me. My head is dizzy. I’m struggling to stop the swaying.

Judy lunges across and throws herself at me, effectively smothering me by jumping in my lap with a wild celebration.

“Judy!” I choke, gasping for air that isn’t laced with her sickening perfume.

“We won! We won!”

Judy gets to her feet and lifts me up by the hands and starts dancing around. She’s beaming and when I look around, the entire corporate box is going crazy. It’s like I’m in the locker room and the Gatorade shower is being replaced by the spit flying from Judy’s mouth.

The Locker Room.

My body ignites. My eyes pop and I snap my hands free from Judy’s grasp.

“I’ve got to go!” I yell, flapping a hand over my shoulder as I descend the stairs at the back of the corporate box.

The crowd is yet to leave their seats. It’s a party in the stands and no one wants to miss out.

I’m fucking grateful, because the path towards the locker room is clear and I’m able to burst inside within minutes of leaving the stands. It’s a party in there, too, and even Coach Best is dancing around like a freshman at his first house party.

“Good win, boys! Fuck Toronto! Fuck Toronto!”

A deep chant of ‘Fuck Toronto’ echoes off the wall in the locker room and I’m left standing to one side, peering through the excited shirtless bodies of the entire Viking’s team. It’s almost too much, and when I finally catch a glimpse of locker number ‘11’, I see it’s completely unused.

No bag.

No protective shoulder pads.

Nothing.

He’s gone.

I race through the door and catch the first ride back to my apartment. The tears start the moment I burst through the front door and toss my keys to the floor.

I can’t hold it back any longer.

Mason’s gone. He’s left. Without a word. Disappeared. Forever.

I collapse on the sofa and my body heaves with every gasping breath I choke. I shouldn’t have let myself go for a hockey player. I’m a nothing person. I’m just a curvy chick who works in the office at the club. Why the hell would he ever want me?

Fucking idiot!

I force myself to sit up and draw deep breaths. The second I can see through my blurry vision, I notice a tiny piece of paper on the coffee table and a fifty-dollar bill tucker underneath.

Scooching forward on the sofa, I grab the note, and in messy handwriting that I don’t recognize is tiny scribble that reads:

48 Pepper Way, Vancouver. Order a taxi and meet me there. -M xoxo

Without bothering to check my smeared make-up in the mirror, I bolt out the door and find the nearest taxi.

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