“That goal you scored the other night was amazing. How do you do that?” one boy asks.
Aiden glances back to check on me, and I wave for him to continue. I’m fine. Watching him with the kids stirs a feeling inside my stomach I can’t explain. Before meeting Aiden, I didn’t know much about hockey. At least not hockey players. Doing research after I took Aiden on as a client, I found out a few things about Aiden. He was rarely ever photographed outside practices, games, and any official team duties like meeting with fans or charitable efforts. He was known to keep his head down and play the game without a lot of drama off the ice. There’s also talk about him being one of the best centers the game has ever seen and will more than likely hit the Hall of Fame at some point.
I think that’s what spurred me to agree to the drink throwing. Someone deemed one of the best at his game shouldn’t go down without a fight. And if he thought me throwing a drink was going to make a difference, well, might as well give it a shot.
“What superstitions do you have?” a little girl asks.
“Yeah, do you eat something special before a game?” a boy chimes in.
“Do you wear your socks for the entire season without washing them?” another kid blurts out.
“Gross!” A group of girls make faces as if that’s the most disgusting thing they’ve ever heard.
Again, Aiden looks back at me before crouching and whispering to them. All the kids make a sound like they can’t believe it, then their eyes are on me. I don’t even want to know.
“Come on, kids, we need to get going. Thank Mr. Drake for being so nice and stopping to talk to us today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Drake,” the kids say in unison.
But before they leave, the teacher stops and Aiden jots down something on a piece of paper and hands it to her. She eyes him with appreciation and thanks him one more time.
Coming back over to me, Aiden gets stopped by a few people asking for selfies now that he’s been outed. Once he’s in the clear, he meets me, placing his hands on either side of the cement wall behind me.
“Careful, you’re getting close there,” I say.
“I’m not touching you,” he whispers, his breath on my neck.
“That was sweet of you. What did the teacher want?”
“Jealous?”
“No.” And I’m not jealous. Okay, slightly, but I’m not worried at all.
“She wondered if I’d be willing to come in and talk at the school. Maybe bring some other players.”
“That’s sweet.”
“I should probably do more of that.”
I shrug. “What did you tell those kids when they asked about your superstitions?”
He chuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. “I told them you’re my lucky charm. That ever since I met you, I’ve been having some great games.”
I shake my head. “No white wine?”
“Ah, they’re little. Didn’t want them stealing their mom’s wine and throwing it in each other’s faces.”
I rest my palm on his cheek, unable to not be affectionate with him.
“Note that you’re touching me.”
“I know. I can’t help it. You’re amazing. You win the bet.”
“What can I say? I’m quite the catch.”
His tone is joking, and I wonder if he really doesn’t realize how great of a catch he is. Any girl would be lucky to have him, and here I am, the lucky girl. I need to calm my overzealous brain and remember he chose me, end of story.
“Aiden,” someone calls.
We both look, only to be surprised by the flash of a camera.
“Good luck tonight,” the person says. They look like an average Joe, not a reporter or anything.
I ask quietly, “Do people really take your picture without asking?”
He nods. “Unfortunately, yes. Come on, I forgot we were in public. Let’s get you out of here.”
We head to a taxi and climb in to go have some of the deep-dish pizza Chicago is known for. The taxi driver asks where to and we tell him to take us to his favorite pizza place. Five minutes later, we’re outside Lou Malnati’s. An hour later, I have no idea how Aiden is going to skate if his stomach feels anything like mine.
“That was a lot,” I say.
“Yeah, I’m gonna be slow on my skates tonight.”
Once we get back to the hotel, Aiden’s still able to do some pre-warmup workouts if you catch my drift. And I have to say—it didn’t affect his performance at all.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aiden
“Drake!” Coach Vittner yells from his temporary office in the Chicago locker room.
We won, so I have no idea why he sounds so pissed.
I walk in already dressed in my suit because my girl is waiting on me. “What’s up, Coach?”
“Game schedule change. We’ve got our make-up game for when the wildfires canceled the one in California, so the team is flying out tomorrow morning for a game in two nights. I know you had plans to go to your parents’, so I’m allowing you to fly in on game day since you’ve been on point lately. But.” He holds up his hands. “You better be there and ready to play. Do you understand?”
This puts a huge crimp in my plans. Saige and I were going to stay with my parents for a few days before she has to meet up with a basketball player in Milwaukee. With this change in plans, she’ll have to miss my game in California. Fuck. I’ve obviously played without her there before—she didn’t start coming until I gave her tickets—so I guess as long as we do the drink throwing before I leave, we should be good. It’ll still be game day.
“What are you doing? Figuring out some Einstein equation? Did you hear me?” Coach says.
I nod. “Yes. Just thinking about the logistics, Coach. I’ll be there and ready.”
“Good. Now in other news…” He walks by me and shuts the door. Either because Ford is singing again or because the celebration hasn’t stopped. “Gerhardt called me into his office before we headed here.”
“And?”
“We’re a couple weeks shy of trade deadline. He didn’t say anything about a trade, but the fact that you haven’t seen the psychologist yet is a problem for him. Get your ass into her office. I’ve told him that you’re harboring some sort of problems from your childhood, but that I’d work on you. You’re one of the only two players left to see her.”
“Who’s the other?” I assume he’ll say Ford, because he was adamant about it before.
“You and Petrov. Talk to him too. This isn’t optional for you boys.”
Ford went to see the psychologist? I’m shocked.
“As soon as we’re back, I’ll make my appointment.” If what I need to do to stay on this team is have a counseling session, I’ll do it.
“Take Petrov with you. Even if you have to drag him.”
“Coach?” I laugh, and he shakes his head.
“I don’t need any more problems on my roster. We’re finally in a great position and if something happens and you get traded, I might as well call this season over. I’m old, Drake. I want the Cup.”