Page 62 of My Lucky Charm

The magnitude of this stage, the one where Gray is a star, becomes clear. The pressure makes sense. His insane schedule and superhuman focus also make sense. There are thousands of fans, and though they want you to be the best, they have no problem telling you when you’re not. It’s Chicago. The media and fans are brutally honest.

The guys are on the ice, warming up, and I try not to zero in on Gray. But it’s like he has this strong magnetic pull, and I’m helpless to look away. From over here, though, I’m safe. I can watch him and nobody will know.

I could even replay The Kiss in my mind if I wanted to. Which I do. Only for a minute, and then a voice speaking common sense kicks in.

Not surprisingly, it sounds like Raya.

About twenty minutes before game time, the wives and girlfriends appear in the stands. They find their seats all around us. I’ve met most of them before, and even though I haven’t seen Monica, Jericho’s wife, in a while, she’s one of those people who instantly feels like an old friend.

“Eloise! How were your first couple of weeks?” Monica asks as she takes her seat on the other side of Poppy.

“Good,” I say. “I mean, I’m still getting my footing. It’s not easy to, um—” I don’t want to talk badly about Gray “—to navigate. But I’m getting the hang of it!” I smile, but instantly feel like I’ve said too much. Gray is cranky and acerbic, but I already feel this odd sense of loyalty to him.

If I am going to help him love this place, I want to get everyone else to love him, too.

“Well, here’s hoping he has a good night,” Kari, Junior’s girlfriend, says, leaning forward. “For all of our sakes, but especially yours.”

“Is he as big of a jerk as he seems?” Krush’s wife, Lisa, asks.

And the loyalty kicks up a notch. “I don’t think so. I think he’s just quiet. Maybe a bit misunderstood.”

I don’t even have to look to feel Raya turn her head toward me, like a stone gargoyle guarding a forbidden entrance.

“He wasn’t quiet when he freaked out on that photographer back in Philly—” Lisa says. “Did you see that clip on YouTube? Broke the guy’s camera.”

My gaze drifts across the ice and over to Gray. He’s standing with the rest of the team, holding his stick, and I absently wonder if he spotted the heart.

I should’ve made a big poster that said, “Do it because you love it.” He would’ve loved that.

While the others prattle on about how horrible he is, recounting all the stories they’ve heard and then asking Poppy why in the world Dallas lobbied so hard to get him on the team, I silently repeat the words over and over—Do it because you love it—while staring intently at Gray.

“El?”

I hear Raya say my name. I turn, and yep, as sure as the Lord made little green apples, there she is, watching me. I smile and turn back to Gray. The team starts to filter off the ice back into the locker room for what I can only assume is a pre-game pep talk. As Dallas skates away from him, Gray glances up into the stands. I lock eyes with him for a split second, and it knocks me off-kilter.

He gives me the slightest nod, hits the stick against the ice twice, and skates off, disappearing through a doorway behind the rest of the team.

Did we just have a connection? Was . . . was that for me? There’s a very real possibility that I imagined it.

But then Raya leans in closer and practically hisses the words, “What. Was. That?”

I freeze. “What was what?”

“He’s your boss, Eloise,” she says.

“He’s technically not. I technically work for the coach.”

I glance up to catch her incredulous look before she slow-turns back to face the ice.

Her words resound in my head like cannon fire, but not even Raya can take away that look and the elation I feel.

For the first time, regardless of New Year’s Eve kisses or shirtless workouts or fumbling words, I feel like I’m making a difference in that man’s life.

Chapter Fifteen

Gray

Eloise is in the stands.

---