Scoring Chance (Carolina Comets)

The bass of the music thrums through my body, and one thing rings loud and clear in my head: Hockey games are so not my thing.

“This is amazing!” Macie shouts from beside me, headphones covering her ears because even to her, this place is too loud. “I love it so much!”

The grin on her face is contagious, and I smile down at her. “I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“What?” she yells.

I laugh, shaking my head.

Miller and I might not be in a good place, but he kept his word to my niece and got her tickets to his game for Christmas. I didn’t let anyone see, but I cried when I saw his handwriting scrawled across the envelope that was tucked into the branches of the decorated tree. How he got the tickets to Stevie, I’m not sure, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Miller has his ways.

I can’t believe it’s been a whole month since I’ve seen him. I miss him terribly, more than I’ve ever missed anyone in my life, but I’m also glad I’ve taken time away.

I’ve spent the month writing, and with that have come so many emotions I wasn’t prepared for. At Stevie’s insistence, I sought therapy, and I learned so much about myself, like how I never really grieved the loss of my father and just buried myself in work and in fantasy to pretend I was okay.

Along with seeing a therapist, I joined a book club and made new friends.

I took up knitting. I suck at it, but it’s fun.

I tried new restaurants and ate oysters. It was an awful experience, but I did it.

I lived.

And I feel good. Better than I ever have.

“I can’t believe you actually came,” Harper says beside me. “We’ve been asking for months and now you’re finally here!”

Luckily, even with whatever Miller and I have been going through, the girls haven’t stopped coming by the truck. If anything, they and their partners have been stopping by more frequently. Even Greer’s been coming once a week. I’m not sure if they’re doing it because of Miller, but I appreciate it either way.

“Do you love it yet?” Ryan asks.

“It’s…okay.”

Harper gasps dramatically, Ryan rolls her eyes at her reaction, and I laugh.

Ryan hitches her thumb toward Harper. “Can you believe this woman used to hate hockey? Her sister too, and now she has a kid with the captain.”

“She’s made quite the one-eighty,” I say.

“It’s wild how much your life can change in such a short amount of time,” Emilia chimes in with a sly grin. She definitely has the big-life-change thing down, going from a social media manager to director and dating one of the former players turned coach.

They’ve all had big life changes in the last few years. I’ve watched from the sidelines as they’ve gone after what they wanted.

And now…now it’s my turn.

The lights dim and the music swells—if that’s even possible—as the players begin to skate out onto the ice for warmups.

“Look! There’s Wright!” Macie points. “And Beast! And the captain!”

She’s practically standing on her seat to see everyone, though I’m not sure why. Miller hooked her up with tickets right along the glass.

Wright, Rhodes, and Lowell all skate by, banging their sticks against said glass right in front of Macie, who squeals with delight. Rhodes even launches a puck over for her when he sees she’s wearing his jersey.

My eyes search the ice, looking for the guy whose number I’m wearing.

“There he is!”

Macie points across the way, and my breath is stolen from my lungs.

He has his skate up on the bench as the equipment manager fixes something, but he’s not paying him any attention.

No.

He’s looking at me.

The warmth of his gaze washes over me, and I swear I can feel it down to my toes. I missed it, missed the way he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Even in this arena filled with thousands of people, I still feel like it’s just us in here.

I missed this feeling more than I’ve ever missed anything before.

Does he miss it too? Does he miss me? Can he forgive me? Did he read my book? I wonder if he liked it, if he realized the love story in it is ours. It’s everything I feel for him and more.

I want to ask him that and so many other things, but I can’t.

Not yet.

So instead, I lift my hand, and I wave.

I swear I see his lips twitch.

And it’s the greatest ounce of joy I’ve felt in a month.

Game Two

Miller got Macie tickets to more than one game.

This time when I wave to him across the ice during warmups, he nods.

Game Three

He waved back.

And I’m slowly starting to see the appeal of hockey.

Game Four

He smiled.

He smiled, and I fucking melted.

Game Five

Macie hasn’t come with me to the last two games. At this point, I’m a legit Carolina Comets fan.

I love watching the way they glide across the ice, the hits they land, the way they fight for one another, and, of course, the goals they score.

The team’s on a winning streak, and the excitement surrounding it is infectious. I’m so entranced by the game that it takes a few tries of Harper tapping on my arm for me to realize someone’s trying to get my attention.

“Huh?”

She points up at the big man looming at the end of the aisle.

“Scout?”

“Yes?” I ask, unsure what this is about.

The man, who has the word SECURITY on the front of his shirt, hands me a sticky note. “This is for you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, taking the square paper and staring at it in wonder.

It’s the same one I stuck to my manuscript, only now there are two lines written on the back.

“What is it?” Ryan asks, leaning over Harper to see what’s going on.

“It’s a note,” Harper tells her, and I hear her add, “I think it’s from Miller.”

I don’t join in on their speculation.

I can’t. I’m too focused on the words scrawled in black ink.

Meet me after the game.

You know where.