Wrecked (Forever 4)

“Hey Lorrie, what’s up?”

His voice was smooth, like we’d just casually run into each other around campus. The fluttering in my nerves made me realize how much I’d missed hearing his voice all week. I tried to steady myself so I didn’t sound too needy. “Not much, just ate dinner.”

“Have any plans for tonight?”

My heart rose. “I was actually just figuring that out,” I said. “Daniela and I were going to go out, but she’s not feeling good, so now I’m free.”

“Great! One of my buddies bailed on me, so I have an extra ticket for the hockey game tonight. Do you wanna come?”

I didn’t know much about hockey, but hanging out with Hunter sounded more fun than hanging out with Meredith and McDreamy. “That sounds like fun! When’s the game?”

“Game’s at seven, but I like to get there a half hour early to get concessions, watch the guys warm up, and all that good stuff. Want to meet me at the arena at six-thirty?”

It was already a little after five, and I had no idea how far away the hockey rink was. How long did that give me to get ready? What did someone wear to a hockey game, anyway? I’d have to figure this out fast. “I can do that,” I said, my mind racing.

“Do you know where the arena is?” he asked.

I stood up and started walking to my room to look it up. “I think so. Otherwise, I can figure it out. I’ll see you then.”

“Alright. Let’s meet me out front. I’ll see ya in a few.”

I walked into my room and threw my phone on the bed before racing to my closet to figure out what to wear. I settled on a school sweatshirt, and threw that on my bed before racing to my laptop to look up the location of Barton Rink. It was at least a twenty minute walk across campus. I’d have to rush.

It took serious power-walking skills, but I made it to the area at six-thirty sharp. The people filtering into the arena were all dressed in red and white school gear: sweatshirts, hats, and even baggy hockey jerseys. I gave myself kudos for a good fashion choice. So far, so good.

I scanned the crowd looking for Hunter’s short, brown hair and dark gray eyes for several seconds before we saw each other at the same time. He was standing by the doors and wearing a red and white hockey jersey that covered up his tattoos, but still hinted at his wide shoulders and huge chest. Even dressed in a baggy hockey jersey, he looked like someone you didn’t want to mess with—in a fighting cage. A bed would be different.

He held up the two tickets and smiled as we walked toward one another. “Thanks for coming,” he said, the low vibration in his voice flowing over me.

I smiled, both because I was glad to see him and to hide my antsiness. I hadn’t seen Hunter in person all week and I had to admit I missed the charge I got from being around him. “Thanks for inviting me.”

He handed me my ticket and I took it from him, careful to avoid brushing against his hand, knowing the effect a gentle brushing could have on the both of us. Then I thanked him graciously. “So have you been to a hockey game before?” he asked.

“Nope,” I responded casually.

“Ever seen a game on TV?”

I shook my head. “But I know the basics: sticks, pucks, and touchdowns right?”

He lost his composure and laughed heartily. “I think you’re mixing hockey with football, Lorrie. Hockey has goals and football has touchdowns.”

“Oh, my bad,” I replied, laughing along with him. I kind of felt silly for mixing up the two sports, but after the time we spent in Neverland teasing one another and joking around, I knew Hunter wasn’t making fun of me mean-spiritedly.

He wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. “You’re so adorable, Lorrie. But ya know, I’m surprised to hear you’re a hockey virgin. You’ve just made tonight’s game all the better. I’m looking forward to breaking you in.”

I chuckled, amused by the flirtatious suggestion. Knowing Hunter’s reputation, my guard was already up, allowing me to let the suggestion easily roll off my shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, alright Hunter,” I said sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I’m not much of a sports girl, so I’m not sure how much ‘breaking in’ is going to happen.”

“We’ll see about that.” He grinned wickedly making my belly flutter in the way that it often did when I was around him. “But you’re really not a sports girl? Given your throwing arm, I thought you would’ve been.”

“Well, my dad and I would toss a baseball around when I was kid. I wasn’t really good or anything, especially with accuracy—as you might have noticed. But I could throw it hard.” I blew hot air on my knuckle and polished it on my sweatshirt. “Broke a few windows in my time.”

I smiled and he chuckled. “And an amusement park booth. I’m impressed—you’re quite destructive. Yet you’ve never seen hockey on TV?”

“I guess I’m more of a doer than a watcher. I think it’s more fun that way, but I have watched a few basketball games, so it’s not like I’m against watching sports. I mean, I’m certainly excited about seeing this hockey game.”

He grinned. “I get it, you’re more hands-on. I dig that. So you’re not afraid of chipping a nail?”

I looked at my nails with amusement. “I guess I’ve always just kept them short . . . Never really thought about growing them out, figured it’d be annoying.”

He chuckled. “Well I haven’t grown mine out either. Glad to see we’re on the same page. Anyway, you’re in for a treat. I’ll teach you the rules and you’ll be a fan by the end of the game. C’mon let’s get our seats.”

Hunter insisted on getting nachos first, and by the time we got our food there were only fifteen minutes to go before game time according to the giant scoreboard on the wall. He explained the basic rules of the game as we made our way down the steps to our seats: there were three periods of twenty minutes apiece, and the players were trying to score goals by shooting the puck past the goalie into the net. The second part I already knew, which made me feel good. How complicated could hockey really be?

We were almost to our seats when we were approached by two short brunettes with red ribbons in their ponytails and the letters “AH” painted on each cheek. They were wearing matching white and red school t-shirts advertising the hockey season. “Hi Hunter! We’re so happy to run into you!” one of them squeaked. The other one beamed at him.