Tomboy

After they sat down, Tess leaned close. “Deep breaths.”

Fallon needed both hands to put her beer in the cupholder. Damn. This was not her usual reaction to things. This must be what Lucy felt like when she found the perfect pair of shoes for 70 percent off. Fallon hadn’t ever understood the giddy, zinging, oh-my-God experience of it all, but she did right now—even if people were sliding sideways glances at her and Tess. Following her friend’s advice, she inhaled deeply and willed herself to chill the fuck out about these amazing seats.

“I can’t calm down,” she said, keeping her voice as quiet as possible in the already chanting arena. “I can practically see the individual hairs of Quartz’s mustache.”

“Which one is that?” Tess asked.

“The goalie.”

Tess cocked her head to the side. “But he’s wearing a full-face mask. I can barely see his eyes.”

Fallon giggled and shook her head at Tess. She was just about to explain to her very literally-minded friend that she was exaggerating when the air around her turned a little more electric. She glanced back at the ice in time to see Zach skate by on his way to the tunnel after the on-ice warm up. He came to a fast stop in front of their seats, and her heart jumped up to her throat, something she knew was physically impossible, but it didn’t change the fact that it was true.

His skates gave him an extra two or three inches, and the Ice Knights sweater thrown over his pads made his shoulders seem even more broad. The steel bar that pierced his eyebrow was gone for the game, but that didn’t do a damn thing to change the fact that he looked like a man who could tear someone’s head off and smile as he did it. This was definitely Zach Blackburn’s game face, and it did things to her—things that made her breath catch as she squeezed her thighs together.

Maybe sitting this close to the ice wasn’t a good thing.

He just stared at her for a second as if he was mentally confirming she really was there, then that surly snarling mouth of his curled up on one side, and he winked at her.

Her panties evaporated.

Oh, holy hell. This was very not good.

Against her will, she lifted a hand and did an insipid finger-wave thing. It was like she could see herself doing it but couldn’t stop. The arena beer had to have a higher alcohol content. That was the only explanation. Never mind that she’d only had a few drinks from her cup. Being this close to the ice was probably like being at a higher altitude, too. She’d go on PubMed and find a citation after the game.

Not that it mattered now because her hand was still airborne when a group of players—she couldn’t identify who, which she as a lifelong fan should have been able to do, which only made the embarrassment factor even worse—came by and skated off into the tunnel with Zach in their midst.

“Oh, wow,” Tess said, fanning herself with her hand. “I thought it would be cold this close to the ice.”

Fallon lowered her hand, but there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to lessen the flush in her cheeks. “Is that your attempt at subtle?”

“Well, I do hang out with you.”

That was…totally true.

Grinning at her friend, she lifted her beer and took a drink. “Fair enough.”

A shared giggle and a national anthem later, and it was puck drop. The play was fast and tight. The Knights had an ease about them, though, that they usually didn’t. It was fucking glorious to watch. They made it through half of the first period before scoring. Too bad the Thunder answered it a minute later while the Knights’ third line was on the ice.

Peppers must have pulled the team together during the first intermission, though, because the Knights came out with something to pr

ove. Fallon was on the edge of her seat screaming her head off when one of the Thunder players took a cheap shot at Knights forward Alex Christensen. It was dirty enough that she jumped out of her seat along with most of the fans in the arena as Zach charged toward the Thunder player, dropped his gloves, and slammed the other man against the glass in front of Fallon’s seat. The two men went at it, exchanging a few blows before both men got sent to their respective sin bins to the roaring approval of the fans. It was hard, it was rough, it was hockey the way it was meant to be played in Harbor City—like it mattered.

“Why is everyone cheering?” Tess asked, worry carving deep lines in her forehead.

“The other guy put out a shitty hit on Christensen, and Zach came to his teammate’s defense,” she said as the play stopped on the ice for a broadcast commercial break. “It’s part of his job as a defenseman.”

Tess gulped. “It’s very violent.”

“But there’s a reason for it. Imagine when they didn’t play with helmets.”

“Oh.” Tess blanched. “That’s just awful. I’m glad they don’t do that anymore.”

She wasn’t the only one. Fallon couldn’t help but check out the JumboTron every time it showed Zach in the penalty box, making sure, despite herself, that he was okay.

Things slowed down for the third period, both teams having left a lot on the ice already. But with only a few minutes left in the game, the Thunder’s rookie phenom got the puck and sailed around Stuckey. As he raced toward the goal, his attention was probably focused on only one thing—scoring—which left him vulnerable to a certain Knights defenseman. Zach went zooming across the ice, moving faster and with more grace than a defenseman is supposed to, stealing the puck and passing it to forward Cole Phillips. Another pass, a trip around the back of the goal, and a fast shot later, and the Knights scored seconds before the horn blared and declared the game over.

Everyone in the arena was cheering. It was exhilarating. Fallon had never felt anything like it. She turned and high fived the stranger sitting next to them before she and Tess did a standing, jumping hug thing that seemed like the appropriate way to express their excitement.