Page 152 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

I watch in awe as Calvin pulls on a mask and turns toward the fan with a wide smile.

When I look up, I discover the voice belongs to a teenage boy with stars in his eyes.

“Hey, man. How’s it going? Are you looking forward to the game?”

“Yeah. It’s my first one. It’s my birthday, and coming to a game was the only thing I wanted.”

“Aw, happy birthday.”

The kid looks on the verge of shitting his pants when Calvin says those two words. I stand there watching him with the widest smile.

The kid turns to the man beside him, his dad, I assume, and he says something, but the boy shakes his head. “Go on,” Dad encourages, elbowing the boy encouragingly in the ribs.

He grits his teeth before pulling up his big-boy pants. “Will you…will you sign my jersey?”

“Of course, man. It’s your birthday; I’ll sign whatever you want.”

The kid quickly strips it from his body and passes it down while the people sitting around him begin to notice what’s going on.

The second I poke Calvin in the side, he turns toward me. “Can you take it to the guys and get them all to sign it?”

His eyes light up at my suggestion.

“Hey, you good if I borrow this for a few minutes?” The kid looks nervous. “I promise to bring it back in better condition than it is now.”

Barely veiled hope glitters in his eyes.

“Okay,” he squeaks as the sound of deep, male voices rumbles from behind us.

With the jersey in hand, Calvin spins around and spots Hailee. He saunters over, and a few seconds later, he’s got a Sharpie in hand and he’s heading down the tunnel.

“You coming?” he calls to me.

“Uh…” My eyes collide with Hailee’s, and she gives me a wide, welcoming smile before I chase after him.

As we approach the dressing room, the door is ripped open, and Fletch, the Vipers captain, emerges in full uniform, looking larger than life.

After exchanging a few words, he takes the pen from Calvin and scrawls on the fabric.

When he sees me waiting, he nods in greeting before heading toward the ice.

One by one, each member of the team files out of the dressing room, each stopping to scribble on the jersey Calvin shoves at them.

“Sienna,” Rett bellows. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” The sarcasm in his tone is unmistakable.

“Sure, whatever you say, Donnelly,” I deadpan.

When he lifts his gloved hand up, I give him a fist bump and send him on his way, all the while discreetly filming each of them. Garrett is going to kill me. I just wish I could see his face when he opens it.

“Sienna,” Hayden cries when he sees me, a genuine smile on his face. “It’s so good to see you. My boy has been doing okay, I take it,” he says, glancing at Calvin as he waits for Cole to sign the jersey like a proud parent, despite Hayden being a few years younger.

“Yeah. You’d be proud,” I say with a giggle.

“Any issues, you come to me. I’ll sort him out.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. You’d better get out there,” I say, watching as some of his teammates overtake him, heading toward the ice for warm-ups.

As men, they’re impressive, but seeing them all in their gear, they’re even more unbelievable. How do they move as they do with all that on? It’s insane.