Page 8 of Knight

My cell lights up with a text. I look over at my phone.

Jackson: Still thinking of you…

Yeah, I’m still thinking about you too, Jackson. I don’t reply, but I can’t get him out of my mind. For the first time in three years, I slip my hand into my panties and touch myself.

CHAPTERFIVE

JACKSON

SUNDAY NIGHT

Iget into bed at my hotel and dial Darian’s cell number. I’ve been thinking about talking to her all day. She answers right away. “Hey there, Aerosmith fan. How’s the Big Apple treating you?” I laugh.

“Hey, sugar. Sorry I wasn’t able to call yesterday. I didn’t get to the hotel until late and didn’t want to wake you. I’ve been crazy with meetings all day today, but I’ve been very distracted, thinking about a certain gorgeous green eyed brunette.”

She doesn’t respond so I try to lighten the mood. “To be honest, there’s one question I have that I can’t seem to move past.”

“Oh really? What’s that?”

“Why are you an emphatic Washington Capitals fan, but not as much so for the other DC area teams?”

She laughs. “I hope you didn’t hurt yourself overthinking this. I mean, I like the other DC area teams, but the Caps just have a special place in my heart. My father used to get a partial season ticket plan, which came to about twenty games. He had two tickets per game. As soon as we knew which games he was assigned each season, my brother and I would have a draft as to which games we’d each get to attend with my dad. It was our special time with him. Even when we got older and he said we could take our friends instead of him, I always chose him. Seeing the Caps play automatically makes me think of my father and our special times together.” That’s a pleasantly endearing answer.

“That’s really nice. What great memories you must have of those games. Is he still with us?”

“He is. I watch almost every game, and he and I text throughout each game. It’s kind of our thing. I also got to spend the past twenty years bearing witness to the greatest hockey player of all time.”

“I hate to break it to you, but Wayne Gretzky retired in 1999.” I have a feeling this will rile her up.

“You can’t think that Gretzky is better than Alex Ovechkin. Ovi is the best of all time. Do you even understand hockey?”

I laugh. She knows her hockey. “Gretzky is still the number one goal scorer of all time.” I’m thoroughly enjoying getting her riled up.

“Ovi is, like, two seasons away from breaking that record, but do you comprehend how much harder it’s been for Ovi to get there? Goalies were half the size when Gretzky played, and the equipment was half the size as well. Ovi will have the record number of goals, while having the goal covered double the amount of what Gretzky encountered. It’s kind of a no-brainer.”

“Gretzky won four Stanley Cups. Ovi only has one.”

“Ugh. You bother me. We’re over,” she teases.

I laugh. “So you admit we’re together? Perfect.”

“No, no, no. I admit no such thing. If you decide that Ovi is the GOAT, you may call me tomorrow night. If you’re stuck on Gretzky, I’m blocking your number.”

This girl makes me laugh. She’s adorable.

“Okay, Ovi is the GOAT.”

“That’s much better. Actually, if you do call tomorrow, please call a little later in the evening.”

“Do you have big plans? A date?” I hope not.

She chuckles at that. “No, nothing like that. I watch Monday night football with Scott’s old high school friends. Scott was my husband. It’s kind of become our tradition since he passed. I think it’s their way of keeping an eye on me.”

“That’s sweet of them. What a nice tradition. It should be a good game. Have fun.”

“Sweet? No. They’re trying to pick my brain because I kick their asses every year in our fantasy football league.”

“Oh, I need help with my team. I’ll pick your brain on Saturday night.”

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