“Just take it slow and give it a chance, okay? I think he really likes you. We wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.”
I give her a skeptical look, but inside, I feel a twinge of hope. I guess if Jake only wanted sex, he would have tried to get some after our date, but he didn’t.
“Where are these seats?” I look at the tickets. “We may need some help from an usher.”
We locate one and he nods with appreciation when he scans the tickets.
“Two hundred level center,” he says. “Best seats in the house if you ask me.”
He leads us down near the ice. There are some seats in front of our section, but we have a great view of the entire ice rink.
“We’re the only people not wearing red,” Paige murmurs to me.
“I painted my nails red. Hopefully that counts for something.”
We’ve only been in our seats for a few minutes when a woman in a business suit approaches us.
“Mr. Birch asked me to welcome you,” she says with a smile. “I’m Jana and I work in PR for the team. Please let me know if I can help in any way.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“This section has a waiter who will be coming by soon. Everything is comped tonight, ladies. I hope you enjoy yourselves.”
The man in front of us turns around, his brows arched. “Did she mean Jake Birch?”
I nod and his face lights up. “You know he’s the top scorer in the league right now, right?”
“I didn’t know that.”
He drops his brows down low. “You must not follow the game.”
“Not really, no.”
“It’s all right. I got you. Just tell me if you have questions. And tell Birchy to keep it up. We wanna keep that cup.”
“Thank you.”
The massive overhead scoreboard at center ice lights up with a video showcasing the history of the team. A clip of Jake smiling makes my heart flutter. The crowd gets louder and more excited, cheering wildly and whistling through the singing of the national anthem.
When they introduce the players, the fans go crazy. The noise peaks when the announcer calls out, “Center and Team Captain Jake Birrrrrrrch!”
He skates onto the ice and I feel as giddy as a girl with a crush. He’s wearing a focused expression, seemingly oblivious to the noise. I guess this arena is his office, and it’s time for him to go to work.
And he does. Jake brings an intensity to the ice that no other player does. The crowd’s mood seems to shift into a higher gear every time he climbs over the wall and skates out.
I can’t keep my eyes on the puck because it’s so small and fast, so I watch Jake instead. He always drinks blue Gatorade as soon as he sits down on the bench, and he doesn’t seem to talk to teammates during the game. He just watches the game, always with that serious expression.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Paige says, standing up.
I get up to follow her and feel something light hit my face. It’s popcorn, and soon it becomes an onslaught.
“Sit down!” someone yells out, aggravated.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Paige says with a glare.
Our friend in front of us turns around. “Not while the puck’s in play.”
“Oh.” I sit back down and Paige follows, stopping the popcorn assault.
We wait until the puck is out of play and then hurry to and from the bathroom, because those superfans are probably timing us. Once we’re back, the energy in the arena has picked way up. People are on their feet yelling and cheering.
There’s a fight on the ice. Two players are punching the crap out of each other. Jake isn’t one of them. Both guys fighting get sent to the penalty box and the crowd stays loud when play resumes.
Our team is up 3–2, and I’m actually sitting on the edge of my seat as the clock ticks down the final seconds of the game. When it’s over, the fans in our section include me and Paige in the high-fives and hugs. This section feels like one for very devoted fans, and I’m glad Jake gave us seats here.
“What should we do now?” Paige asks me. “Are you seeing him after the game? I can catch the train home.”
I shrug. “He didn’t say anything about it.”
“But of course he wants to see you. At least for a drink.”
“Maybe he has to do stuff, though. Interviews and that.”
“Yeah, but I think they wear suits after games. You need to get a look at him in a suit, Miranda.”
Damn. With his body I bet Jake can wear the hell out of a suit.
“Why don’t we go get a drink nearby and see if he texts?” I say.
I do want to see him. Now that I’ve been to one of his games, I feel like I know him a little better. I just got a look at the biggest part of his life.
We walk to a small bar nearby, which is crowded. We took advantage of the free food and drinks at the game so we both just get a soda. After about twenty minutes, Jake texts.
Jake: What did u think?
Me: It was fun. Exciting. :)
Jake: Glad u came. I wish I could get together now, but I have other plans.
I feel a drop of disappointment in my stomach. Buy why? It’s late and he’s probably tired.
That’s just an excuse I’m making for him. I’m a pro at that. I made excuse after excuse for Nick’s behavior when he was cheating on me. Jake and I aren’t even together, and he said he has other plans, which probably means he’s not going back to the Dupont to sleep.