Page 33 of Dangle

Trey turned and looked at him over his shoulder. “Hell, yeah, you are.”

Not sure what was going on, I asked, “What’s with the awed, flabbergasted looks?”

Trey, his face still split in half, yelled, “No one say a damn word!”

The intermission between the second and third periods felt like I was back in a war zone sniper hole, waiting for my target to appear, breath held, eyes crusty from refusing to blink in case something happened. And silence. No one spoke. Every time someone opened their mouth, whether they uttered a sound or not, they were shushed by everyone else in the room. The longer the time stretched, the more I felt as if I were standing on a landmine waiting for it to detonate.

“You guys are making me a nervous wreck,” I said.

A cacophony of “Shhhhh!” echoed through the room.

With a sigh, I got up and grabbed another beer, then wandered along the buffet to the charcuterie board. I stood there picking at the expensive ass cheese, meats, pickles, and olives. I moved on to the boards of vegetables, hummus, and spinach and artichoke dip.

“One would think you’re a hockey player the way you eat.”

I turned at the sound of his raspy, lyrical voice. Our gazes met. I popped the pepper I held covered in spinach dip into my mouth, chewing while I formulated a response, or tried to anyway. As I chewed, I realized we were of the same size, with similar haircuts, but those things gave way to the differences. His clean-shaven face to my bearded one. His blue eyes to my brown. His youth to my…yeah, not going there.

After swallowing the last of the pepper, I said, “If I were an insecure man, I’d think you were hinting about my weight?—”

Trey’s blue eyes widened comically. “No! Shit! No, fuck, you’re?—!”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “I said if I were insecure. I’m not. I’m a sexy motherfucker. I know this. But you’re gonna have to work on your pickup lines.”

“I’m not…” he trailed off.

I leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Good boy. Lying only gets you punished. No fun allowed.”

Those baby blues stretched even further, and a blush stained his cheeks. Before I, or he, could say anything else, I walked away.

At the startof the third, every single person in the suite crowded as close to the glass as they could. Guys sat in the stadium seats arranged before the now-open windows, looking out into the arena. Others stood along the edges. Some sat on the wide chair arms.

The staff prepared for this and did it well. Buckets of beer lined the window ledge. They’d placed trash cans nearby for empties. Snacks sat on plates between the beer buckets.

And we waited.

Breaths held.

Silent except for thegluggingof beer and nervous munching.

And still I wondered. But then the teams came back out onto the ice. The volume from the commentators filtered in again as if someone turned it back on now that intermission was over. Unlike the guys in the suite with me, the voices coming through the speakers had no qualms about dissecting the game.

“If you’re just joining us, welcome to Nashville for the start of the third period between the Nashville Nighthawks and the Vancouver Sound. The game is currently tied at 3-3 after an amazing goal by rookie phenom Aiden Mercer, just seconds before the end of the second.

“This game is not turning out like anyone thought it would.”

“It’s astounding, really. It just goes to show you can never count a team out. Vancouver flew into Nashville after two long, grueling games on the road. They’re first in their division and second in the conference. They, like everyone in the world of hockey, expected this to be an easy last game at the end of a hard roadie.”

Holy shit. Everyone thought they’d lose. No wonder the hockey bros in the suite were about to rattle out of their fucking skin.

“Now, we’re watching rookie Aiden Mercer lean into the face-off in Nashville’s last regular season game. A game that, if they win, sends them to the playoffs. A first for the franchise in nearly a decade.”

The arena fell silent.

The puck dropped.

Aiden pushed and shoved, swiping at the puck.

Vancouver’s center took it. The puck dropped back.