Page 36 of Meant for Stone (Meant For)

“You can sit anywhere, really. What you want to do is show up before the game and go down to the glass so he can see that you are there,” she instructs me, “but don’t make a sign.”

“Don’t make a sign?” I question the statement. “What the hell does that mean?”

“People write signs and stand around the glass like ‘You’re My Favorite Player’ or ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors for a Stick.’” I’m amazed at this.

“I could make a sign that says, ‘You Banged Me so Good I Came Back for More.’” I laugh while Gabriella groans.

“I don’t tell you how good your brother is in bed.” I close my eyes and fake vomit. “So it’s a two-way street.” I agree. “So no sign.”

“That I can do,” I assure her. “So like what time should I get there?”

“You should get there as soon as the doors open so you can get a good place at the glass. I would stand next to the kids since the players usually go where the kids are,” she informs me. “Maybe I’ll come and meet you for the game.”

“No!” I shout. “I haven’t decided whether I’m going.”

“Oh, you’re going. You knew you were going before you called me, or else you wouldn’t have called me.”

“I have to go,” I deflect instead of saying she’s right. “Wish me luck. And don’t forget you promised not to tell anyone,” I remind her before I hang up and buy a ticket to the hockey game.

That night when he calls, I’m so nervous he’s going to guess I’m coming that I rush off the phone with him, and when he calls me in the morning, I lie and tell him I’ll be in court all morning long. My flight lands at four o’clock, and I check into the closest hotel I could find next to the venue. I don’t know if he’s going to invite me to his house or not, and I wasn’t going to be stranded in Nashville without a place to sleep.

I toss my crossover bag on the bed before opening my carry-on luggage. I take a quick shower before I slide on my black jeans with a black turtleneck and a black vest. “It looks like I’m going to a funeral,” I tell my reflection when I put on a bit of mascara before grabbing my white sneakers and black purse. I walk out and set the GPS to the venue, my heart’s beating so fucking fast it’s making it feel like it’s going to explode in my chest. I wasn’t even this nervous when I was in court for the first time.

I walk up to the door, seeing all the yellow jerseys along the way, a chunk of them with his name on them, and I can’t help but smile. Pulling out my phone and scanning the ticket, I walk toward the section Gabriella texted me to go to. I walk into the arena and see the lights are mostly off. Walking down the concrete steps toward the glass, I stand here with my phone in my hand and text Gabriella a picture of the ice.

Me: Am I at the right spot?

She answers me right away.

Gabriella: Yes, they are going to skate out and practice where you are. I’m so nervous for you.

I laugh.

Me: I’m not nervous at all. Worst case, I order room service and go home tomorrow. Best case, I have the best sex of my life.

Gabriella: I just threw up in my mouth thinking of my cousin having sex with you.

Me: It can’t be worse than listening to you at your bachelorette party describe my brother’s penis. In detail, down to the tip.

Gabriella: Touché.

I stand here with the phone in my hand, rethinking everything I’ve done in the past two days. Who am I even? Working from home is nothing for a Friday, but then I took Monday off, in case I was here until then. I haven’t taken a day off since I started, and now, here I am taking a day off to spend it with Stone, who doesn’t even know I’m coming. What if he has someone he invited to the game since I told him I couldn’t come? The thought makes my hand shake and my mouth run dry.

I’m about to turn around and walk away when I look around and see the glass is now packed with people waiting for them to come on the ice. I look around, wondering if I should just go back to the hotel room and maybe text him. Then he can decide if he wants to come to me or not.

The crowd cheers as the lights come on full blast, and I see black pucks being tossed on the ice. I look at the ice and beside me I see a teenage boy wearing Stone’s jersey and hat. I can see the players skate onto the ice, and my eyes look from one to the other. Then I spot him, laughing with someone he is talking to on the other side of the rink.

I swear my heart stops in my chest as his head turns, and he looks over to this side of the rink. I don’t even know if he’ll recognize me or not. But the minute I see him scan the crowd and his eyes go past mine, then whip back and go big, as the smile that was on his face is now gone. His mouth hangs open, and he shakes his head before skating over to my side of the rink. The kid next to me goes crazy and slaps the glass, calling his name, but his eyes are on mine, and I can’t help but smile at him. All the nerves from the last two days leave my body.

He stops in front of me. “What are you doing here?” he shouts, and the kid next to me calls his name.

I motion my head to the kid next to me. He bends over and picks up a puck before tossing it over the glass and then looks back at me. The smile fills his face and his eyes are light golden brown, and all I want to do is kiss his lips. “Surprise!” I shout, shrugging, and he just shakes his head before he looks around and then holds up a finger, turning and skating away to the bench. I look at the kid beside me, who is freaking out he got a puck from Stone, and I’m stupidly proud that I’m with him. Well, not with him, but that I know him sort of.

I don’t have time to think about whatever it is that has my mind playing tricks on me because Stone comes back over. “Someone is going to come over and take care of you,” he says, and I look at him confused. He looks around again and sees a blonde with two kids who is not too far from me. He motions with his head to follow him, and I roll my eyes, but I follow him from my side of the glass as he skates over to the blonde.

“Katie.” He knocks the glass for the woman who is with two kids. The kids wear little jerseys with the number of their father because they have Daddy on the back of the jerseys. “She’s with me.”

“Oh my God, I have a ticket!” I shout, hoping he can hear me, and Katie just laughs.

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