I’ve changed my outfit three times. I’ve redone my makeup twice. And I’m not really a makeup girl.
I’m wearing a pair of dark jeans and a green top, because Lance has mentioned that he likes the way I look in green. I’m also wearing my pale yellow and green flowered bra and panty set. It’s very feminine. I don’t expect he’s going to see it.
Okay. Who am I kidding? Now that I’ve made the decision to go to the game—and start hashing this mess out—a significant part of me wants tonight to end with him at least getting a glimpse of it. But I’m so nervous. Because this whole situation is entirely unprecedented. The wife of the captain of the team and the girlfriend of the legendary Randy Ballistic are picking up me and April so we can go to the game together. Something Lance never asked me to do. And he doesn’t know.
I consider texting him.
I want to text him.
But it’s just hours until the game, and by this point it’s unlikely he has his phone with him. If he does, I don’t want to be a distraction—the way right now he’s totally mine.
The car that comes to get us is a black extended SUV limo with tinted windows. I follow April out of the house to find Mr. Goldberg, who I’ve had a lot more tea with over the past week or so, chatting up Violet.
“Ladies night out, Miss Poppy?” he asks.
“We’re going to a hockey game, Mr. Goldberg. This is Violet; she’s married to Alex Waters, Chicago’s team captain.”
“Is that so? Violet Waters, that’s a lovely name.”
I’m positive he’s checking out her rack. She’s wearing a form-fitting sweater with the Chicago logo on it.
“It makes me sound like a Disney princess, right?” Violet says with a big grin.
“That it does. Have a nice night, ladies. Be safe, Miss Poppy, and if you see that boyfriend of yours, make sure you remind him I’m out of those biscuits.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know.”
“What’s that about?” April asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing important. I’ll tell you later.”
I wave and get in the car where the rest of the girls are waiting. Lily’s sitting to the left with a baby seat between her and Sunshine—or Sunny, I guess her friends call her—and
there’s another woman I’ve never met seated behind her. She looks vaguely familiar.
Sunshine’s face lights up when she sees us. “Hi, girls! How are you? It’s so nice to see you!” We give each other awkward side hugs since I’m hunched over and she’s sitting.
“Is this Logan?” I peek in at the tiny sleeping bundle in the car seat, covered with blankets. “Is this his first game?”
“It’s his fourth.” Sunshine smiles proudly. “I hope he’s awake for at least a few minutes this time.”
I move to the bench seat on the right where there’s room to sit, and April goes in for hugs, then joins me.
The woman on the other side of Logan extends her hand. “I’m Charlene.”
“She’s dating Darren Westinghouse,” Violet calls from the front seat. “Or whatever she’s decided to call it.”
I don’t know what that means, but I introduce myself and April, and then we’re on our way to the game. Charlene, Violet, Lily, and April drink champagne while Sunshine and I drink sparkling juice. She’s breastfeeding, and I don’t want to be tipsy before I’m even at the rink.
It doesn’t take long to get to the arena. We’re dropped off at a private entrance, and we have some kind of special pass that allows us to avoid all the line-ups and security checks along the way to the ice.
“Okay, so things to prepare for before we get to our seats.” Violet laces her arm through mine. “There will be bunnies wearing jerseys like they’re dresses with Lance’s number on them. They’ll have signs and things that say they love him. That’s normal. Sometimes a few of them will be sitting close by, and you can hear their conversations. It can be funny, and sometimes disturbing.”
“You mean like that time you called out one of Randy’s bunny conquests before the game even started?” Lily asks snidely.
“She was asking for it.”
“The humiliation was mine,” Lily says.
“They’re making it out to be worse than it is.” Sunshine adjusts Logan, who’s now strapped to the front of her body in a carrier that looks more complicated than a straight jacket.
He’s resting his cheek on her boob, eyes closed and lips parted. He looks like a sleeping angel with his pale blond ringlets curling out of the tiny red hat he’s wearing.
“Miller had a horrible reputation when I started dating him. Probably almost as bad as Lance’s.”
I don’t think she’s saying this to be mean. I don’t think Sunshine has a mean bone in her body, to be quite honest.
“I let it interfere for way too long before I finally decided it didn’t matter what the media or the bunnies said and did. Who Miller was with before me isn’t important—not that it didn’t bother me at the time.”
Being with Lance when it’s just him and me isn’t a problem. It’s being allowed to engage with the rest of his life that’s the issue.
“How did you deal with it?”
“At first? Not all that well. I should’ve been prepared since Alex had a terrible rep, even if most of it wasn’t true. But it’s a lot different with a brother than a boyfriend.”
“But you got over it obviously.” I motion to sleeping Logan.
“I did. It took a while for me to figure out what I wanted. But when it comes down to it, it’s about how Miller is with me. Everyone said the same thing when we started dating: that they’d never seen him like this with anyone else. It was the same way with Randy and Lily, and with my brother and Violet. And that’s how Lance is about you. I know some of the rumors are true, and with Miller, a lot of the rumors were true. But he was worth getting over it for.” She pats Logan’s bottom when he makes a snuffling sound and kisses the top of his head.
She looks so in love, and happy.
“Thanks for sharing that.” I mean it. That I’m being taken in by these women who obviously care about Lance—and have not slept with him—gives me new perspective. The man they’re describing seems like the person I know, and that’s reassuring.
Our seats are amazing. We’re right behind Chicago’s bench, which is currently empty. I’ll be able to see the back of Lance’s head the entire game.
Violet and the other girls all get drinks. Sunshine asks for hot water and produces a tea bag.
“They don’t have herbal here,” she explains.
I want hot chocolate, but I don’t know if it will cause Lance to have an allergic reaction. I definitely want to leave open the option for kissing. Maybe more, depending.
When they announce the teams, butterflies flit around in my stomach and try to flutter their way up my throat. Chicago skates onto the ice, and I immediately search for jersey number twenty-one.
“There he is!” April elbows me in the side a little too hard.
“Ow!”
“Sorry.” She’s bouncy. She’s almost finished her drink, which is either her second or third, depending on how much champagne she had in the limo.
I scan the ice and spot him. He’s halfway around the rink and moving quickly, following right behind number sixty-nine. That’s Randy, Lily’s boyfriend.
As they take the bench, they knock on the glass, waving to the girls. Lance waves absently and takes a seat, his mouth set in a thin line. He’s serious on the ice, from what I’ve witnessed in all my game watching. Randy taps the Plexiglas with his glove, winking at Lily. He scans the rest of the row and does a double take when he sees me. His eyes dart back to Lily with questions in them. She gives him a big grin, which he returns with a shake of his head. But it’s not a bad look.
He knocks Lance on the shoulder and motions to where I’m sitting. Lance cocks his head to the side, looking confused, then does his own double take.