Backcheck Heart: An L.A. Crush Hockey Novella (Nashvellas & Novels)

Chapter 13

I shift nervouslyas the usher checks my ticket outside the suite area of National Bank Arena. When Ralphie asked me to go to his game, I assumed it would be in the stands. Nope, he got me a ticket for the family suite. If I would have known, I wouldn’t have dressed for the chill of the ice.

After handing me back my phone, the employee walks me down the hall and into the room. As I enter, the weight of several pairs of eyes land on me. I immediately shrink, taking my suitemates in. They may not be dressed to the nines, but they are more dressed up than me. There isn’t a team logo in sight. I offer them a tight smile as I smooth down my dad’s ‘90s-era jersey that I paired with my recently finished beanie and leggings.

The women around me quickly refocus their attention back to their conversations, and I let out a sigh of relief. Heading to the front of the suite, I survey the scene in front of me. From this high, we have a perfect view of the entire arena. Mesmerized by the players skating around for warm-ups, I don’t notice someone saddle up beside me. When she clears her throat, I startle.

“Apologies,” she says smoothly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Veronica. My husband is the team captain, which makes me like the de facto captain of the WAGs.”

“Hi,” I reply, taking her hand. “WAGs?”

“Industry lingo,” she responds with a flip of her hair. “Wives and girlfriends. It takes a lot to support our men off the ice. We get together to ensure their needs and obligations are met.”

“Makes sense. And I’m Morgan, Ralp-Nokavik’s girlfriend.”

I’m then struck by the fact that I don’t know what people call him. I’ve heard his teammates call him a few different things, but I haven’t interacted with them outside the clubs.

“It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t realize he was seeing anyone.”

“It’s new. Not new-new, but new for this season,” I stammer.

“Well, welcome. I love your hat.”

“Thank you.” My fingers instinctively rise to touch the project I worked on during my downtime traveling last week. It has teal and light blue stripes, the Crush’s colors, and faux fur pompom on top. On the front, I added Ralphie’s number since I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to get a jersey with his name on it. The books I’ve read have made that seem like a big gesture.

“Enjoy the game, Morgan. I’m sure I’ll see you around,” she states as another woman beckons for her. Everything about her was perfectly lovely, but I can’t help thinking she wasn’t sincere. I chalk it up to my own insecurities. Making a small plate from the buffet and grabbing a drink, I settle into a seat as the pregame announcements begin.

At the end of the first period, the seltzers I drank sit heavy in my bladder. I didn’t intend to drink more than one, but seeing Ralphie charging through giant men swiping at him with sticks left me unsettled. Not wanting to miss any action, I use intermission to stretch my legs and take care of business.

The bathroom on the suite level is nicer than on the others I’ve been to. This may be my first hockey game, but I’ve attended NBA games here before. I need to find out how they switch between wood and ice because you can’t tell another sport shares this facility.

As I am about to flush the toilet, a group of women enter the space. “Can you believe how casually she came to the game? You’d think she would want to impress us or, at the very least, her man.”

“You would think,” another says. “I looked her up on social media, and based on her pictures, we should be glad she came in as much clothing as she did. She is usually decked out in short skirts and sparkles. All her posts scream, ‘Look at me! Look at me!’ There is nothing less cute than attention-seeking behavior.”

“Shut up. Let me see! How did you get her name?”

“Since the family room falls under my domain, I always know the suite attendees. Radek had to tell John her name to get her on the list. I knew who she was the moment she walked in.”

“What else did he say about her?”

“Not much,” she huffs. “You know men, they hardly ask follow-up questions. From what I can tell, she’s local, a flight attendant, and works as a bottle girl/influencer on the side.”

Great, three of them are talking shit about me in a semi-public place, and I either have to confront them or wait them out in this stall.

“A bottle girl?” a third woman snorts. “I wouldn’t have thought that was Nokavik’s type. I’ve seen the bunnies who throw themselves at him. To be honest, she looks like one in those photos. I figured he would go for someone with a little more class.”

“I heard they met her at Fitz’s bachelor party, so who knows if that’s all she is. Nothing would surprise me based on the amount of cleavage she’s showing in those pictures.”

“Please,” mean girl number two scoffs. “Fitz wouldn’t dream of cheating on Tabby. He’s smitten.”

“You never know,” Veronica notes. “These men get propositioned every day. It’s only a matter of time until they give in. You simply have to ensure what he has waiting for him at home beats what he gets on the road.”

“And that he gives you pretty things to ease his guilt,” number three singsongs. “How do you think Kelly got that new Benz? What happens in Vegas sometimes ends up in your wife’s DMs.”

“We’ll see how long Morgan lasts. Everything about her screams flighty airhead. She’ll either annoy him until he breaks up with her, or she’ll get bored and move on to a D-list actor. A girl like that is always searching for the next stepping stone. She would never be able to handle this lifestyle.”

“Where did she run off to anyway?”

“Who knows? I’m simply happy for the break from looking at that truly awful beanie.”

The sound of their laughter trails out of the bathroom. I’m used to mean girls, but I didn’t expect to face them right out of the gate. I steel myself to return to the suite as I wash my hands. Before I can leave, though, someone else exits a stall.

The tiny brunette”s expression resembles mine as we make eye contact in the mirror. She’s dressed as casually as I am in leggings and a vest.

“You heard all that too, huh?” she questions.

“I’m afraid I was the star of that conversation.”

“Morgan?!”

My tight smile must give her the answer she hoped for since she practically bowls me over with her hug. “I’m Tabby. It’s nice to meet you finally. I’ve heard all about you!”

“You mean aside from that?”

She wrinkles her nose. “Yes, aside from that. Don’t let them get to you. Stacy and Becka have been with their players for years without them making things legal, and Veronica’s husband has a girlfriend in practically every city. They’re bitter WAGs and jealous you landed the golden goose.”

“Ralphie is the golden goose?”

“You call him ‘Ralphie?’ Omigod, that”s adorable! And yes, he is. That man is so loyal he won’t even use a different brand of stick tape. There is no way he would cheat on his partner. He is one of the highest-paid players on the team, and he has years left in his career. They undoubtedly wanted to set one of their snooty friends up with him. Unfortunately for them, he fell for you!”

“I don’t know about that,” I reply, thinking about everything the catty WAGs said. Am I the right type of woman for him? I can only imagine the options he has available. It’s hard to believe he’d settle for someone who barely graduated high school and spends her weekends faking nice to the rich and famous for tips.

“We’ll see,” Tabby chirps. “Come on. We can sit together. I rushed here after my shift and am famished. I hope they have a good spread today.”

When we walk back into the suite, the gazes of Veronica and her cronies burn into my skin. As much as I try not to let their words get to me, I spend the rest of the game wondering if I have what it takes to be the partner Ralphie needs.