Page 28 of Behind the Net

“Noway. That’s where Jamie grew up.”

“No way.” I force a smile as my pulse picks up.

Her brow wrinkles in curiosity. “What high school did you go to?” There are a couple in the area, and it’s not uncommon for students to go to schools outside their catchments for special programs.

“Um.” Here we freaking go, I guess.

Someone taps us on the shoulder before pointing at the Jumbotron above. The game is stopped for a moment, and Jamie’s mom is on screen.

“Please give a very special welcome to the woman behind theStreicher shut out,” the announcer calls. “Donna Streicher!”

The arena cheers, and Donna laughs and waves at the camera, glancing up at us on the screen. She points at Jamie and blows kisses at him. A chorus ofawws rises around the arena.

I grin so hard. Jamie’s mom is so nice and cute, and she’s so proud of him.

And thank fuckinggodfor that interruption.

“Jamie tells me you have a pretty singing voice,” Donna says a few minutes later while the players gather for a face-off.

He said that?

“Are you a musician, too?”

My stomach dips. “I don’t really do that anymore.”

Her mouth hitches in a wry, crooked smile. “Oh, darn. I’d love to hear a song eventually. IfJamiesays you’re good, you must be.” She pats my hand on my knee. “No problem, honey.”

We both pause as San Jose skates toward Vancouver’s net. The energy around us rises as their forward slapshots the puck at Jamie. It hits the back of the net, and the crowd lets out a collective groan.

“He’ll be pissed off at that one.” Donna’s still fiddling with the beads. “He’s so hard on himself, but that’s how he got here.” She gestures at the ice. “Ever since he was a kid, he’s taken on all the responsibility. I worry about him.” A smile lifts on her mouth, and she glances at me. “I’m really glad he has you to help out. He takes on too much.”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But he did join me on a walk the other day.”

She arches a brow, and her eyes sparkle. “Oh?”

“He said it helps with muscle soreness, moving after practice like that.”

Her eyes linger on my face, interested and amused like she has a secret. “Oh. Yes. That makes sense. How did you get into being an assistant?”

I tell her about my degree, Zach’s tour—leaving out the details of how I left—and how I want to get a job in marketing with the team.

She smiles affectionately. “That’s great, Pippa. I’m certain that whatever you want in life, you’ll make it happen.”

I shoot her a weak smile. Marketing isn’t my dream, but it’s my best option. I can hear my parents’ voices in my head.There’s nothing wrong with a stable job, Pippa!Guilt weaves through me. They paid for school for me when so many people have to either scrape student loans together or skip university altogether. Who cares if it’s not my dream?

I’ve already learned my lesson about pursuing my dream. My gaze flicks over to Jamie as he watches the puck at the other end of the ice.

Some people are meant to pursue their dreams, but I’m not one of them.

* * *

While the players change and talk to the press after the game, we head to the box reserved for friends and family. The box is filled with people—players, coaches, spouses, kids, and friends. I recognize a few coaches and players, including Hayden, who gives me a friendly wave.

I show Donna pictures of Daisy while we wait for Jamie.

“Oh my goodness.” Donna’s hand covers her mouth as she smiles at a photo of Daisy mid-sprint. “This is just too cute.”

Behind Donna, a server passes with a tray of drinks.

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