Page 53 of The Big Puck

“Lucky for you, I’m not interested.” It’s a convincing lie, and I’d be proud of myself if lying were something to be proud of. “He’s all yours. He’s not my type. He’s too old. Too grumpy and serious and broody—” Tina puts a hand on my arm, stopping me before I run on too long, going against the maxim about quitting while you’re ahead or keeping your mouth shut before you talk someone out of believing you. Which is what I think I just did. I might have sounded convincing if my gut wasn’t tumbling around making me feel sick.

“You’re right. But if he’s grumpy with you, it’s because he doesn’t like you. Because he’s not grumpy to me. And he’s not too old for me.” She waves a hand in the direction of the bench. “Maybe you should focus on one of the rookies on the team.” Her attitude may be smug, but it’s much nicer now that she’s more secure, less threatened about me as a rival.

I almost feel sorry for her because if I were a betting woman, I’d lay down ten clams that says Spencer is not into her.

Maybe Shonda ought to be looking at one of the hot hockey players for a boyfriend.

I go back to watching the game and after one minute, I’m sucked in and Tina is right alongside me, yelling at the ref, critiquing the other team, and cheering. When Jason scores in the third period, Tina jumps up and down like a maniac, and I catch her before she falls on some poor guy in the row in front of us. When Jason gets to the bench, he pumps his fist in our direction, and we start whistling and yelling all over again. Spence turns and nods. Then I see it—the corner of his mouth squeezed up into a tiny smile, like a baby flower bud barely showing.

The flood of hot joy spreads through me, and I get giddy and cheer so hard for the remainder of the game that I can barely talk at the end.

Shonda leaves before the final horn in a hurry to get somewhere—to Spencer’s waiting arms. But Spencer is going nowhere anytime soon because he’s flooded by the media after the win. We watch him walk through the tunnel nearby.

“I’m going to find my dad,” Tina says as she gives me a big hug. “This was fun. Let’s exchange contact info, yes? I don’t have many friends in the area.”

“Absolutely.” We exchange phones and hug again. It feels good to have a new friend. I hadn’t realized how much I was missing that kind of connection here until we started laughing together at the game.

“I’m going to go down and wait for my brother outside the locker room.”

She gives me a wink with her big knowing grin. “Say hello to Spencer for me.”

I laugh and don’t bother telling her I have every intention of steering clear of Spence—at least while Shonda is around. And until I can clear my head of all the confusion caused by his kiss—which she doesn’t know about.

Then I’ll go back to maybe being the friendly upbeat nanny who tries harder than she should to cheer up the too-serious, too-sad bachelor dad. Somehow, I need to do this without drooling and without letting it get me down that I can’t have him.

The area outside the locker room teams with family and friends of the players, mixed in with hordes of media. The space is new and glamorous compared to the locker room areas I’ve been around in the past, and so I have no problem leaning against a wall and waiting and watching.

The media doesn’t bother assembling in the nearby media room for interviews, and Gavonza doesn’t mind the melee of people and the hum of the crowd in the background as he commandeers the first interview with the local news sportscaster. Not a bad PR strategy; I have to hand it to him.

He soaks up the spotlight as long as the sports caster and camera man will allow, but as soon as Spencer emerges from the locker room, they all rush to him at once A trill of pride runs along my nerve endings, though I have no right to it. I sigh and listen to him.

“Did the team meet your expectations tonight?” The same sports caster who dismissed Gavonza in his rush to be first to get Spence in front of his camera asks the question.

“Yes and no,” Spence says, then adds. “We won, and that’s always the main thing.”

“Even in a pre-season game?”

“Every time a player takes the ice to play a game, they should have it in their heads to win the game without regard to personal stats. We expect no nights off from the competitive fire to win.”

“You’re not worried about players getting hurt?”

“Were you worried about getting hurt on your way down the stairs tonight?” Spence quips. He gets a smattering of chuckles at that.

“Why no,” the sportscaster says, “I took the elevator.” The crowd of media and players around them erupt in laughter.

“I’ll take a point for the assist on that one,” Spence says with a smirk, the closest he comes to a smile, but it doesn’t matter, he has them charmed now.

Spence goes on with his usual broody confidence, surprising patience, and charm. After several more reporters ask dozens of questions, one woman asks him how his baby Krissy is doing, and I hold my breath, cringing because I know this is a red button the size of Ohio for him.

With his stoic game face in place, he answers her. “She’s fine.”

Then he turns to another reporter, seemingly unperturbed, but I see the tick in his jaw. I’m impressed and silently applaud him for not making a big deal out of it, for keeping his cool when he must have been anything but on the inside, worried about protecting their privacy above all else. He goes on another ten minutes, keeping the spot light on the players, and finally waves Jason over to take questions.

As soon as Spence escapes from the media, even while they’re still calling questions to him, Shonda rushes to his side, and he’s swallowed by a crowd of people. I watch from my corner while I’m waiting for Jason to finish with the media and fans. Eavesdropping, I gather that the people surrounding Spence are old friends from high school, his local family members, and people from the community, including his high school coach.

My heart swells as I watch his smile spill generously over them. Finally, he smiles. He should—he won, didn’t he? He deserves this happy moment, and I swipe at my eyes because I can’t help feeling overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness for him.

Shonda stands in the middle of the maelstrom, meeting everyone while I stay away. Jason finds me after I text him. He comes over, and we gather a small crowd of players. Though I’m standing with Jason, Sabien, a kid named Chase, and a few of the other young single guys on the team, I can’t help throwing surreptitious glances in Spence’s direction while the guys banter.