Chapter 33
Jacks
The crowd spilled out of the arena like water through a broken dam, thousands of fans flowing onto the sidewalks in waves of Lightning blue and celebratory energy.
The win had put everyone in a good mood.
Strangers exchanged high fives between chants of “Let’s go, Bolts!
” that echoed off the concrete exterior of the building.
It was the kind of communal happiness that only came from watching your team win a tough one.
“That was incredible,” Benji was saying again as we made our way through the crowd. “Did you see that goal? The way it exploded off his stick? And then he looked right at you!”
“He didn’t look right at me,” I said, though my chest was still tight with the memory of that moment.
“He absolutely looked right at you,” Mia corrected. “We all saw it. Even Finn saw it.”
“Yeah, I saw it,” Finn confirmed. “It looked very deliberate, the whole tappy-tap on the ice. That was for you.”
“He did not tappy-tap for me,” I argued.
“He so did!” Benji squealed. “Tappy-tap. Tappy-tap. Tappy-tap.”
I tried shoving him, but he was too quick, turning Mia into a makeshift shield.
“I still can’t believe Tyler blew you a kiss,” Benji continued, laughing as he pranced down the massive corridor. “That was like something out of a movie.”
“That was Tyler being Tyler,” I said. “Subtle isn’t in his vocabulary.”
“Thank God,” Benji said. “Subtle is overrated. Bold gestures are where it’s at.”
Mia snorted and hooked her arm in Benji’s, triggering him to begin skipping like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. Finn rolled his eyes and shook his head.
We’d made it maybe fifty yards from the arena entrance when I heard someone calling from behind us. “Excuse me! Hey, excuse me!”
I turned to see a young guy in a Lightning polo jogging toward us. He was out of breath, looking like he’d been running through crowds for several minutes.
“Are you Jackson Armstrong?” he asked when he reached us, breathing hard.
My stomach dropped. “Who’s asking?”
“I’m Kevin. I work for the team in media relations.” He held up an ID badge hanging around his neck. “One of the players asked me to find you. He asked me to bring you and your friends to meet him.”
My friends went very quiet very quickly.
“Which player?” I asked, though I already knew.
“I wasn't told, only that one of the guys asked for you.” Kevin was still catching his breath. “I was told to look for four people, one wearing a jersey, another with fiery red hair and an Irish accent. That was you guys at the game, right? Section 108?”
“That was us,” Mia said when I seemed to have lost the ability to speak.
“Great. If you could follow me.” Kevin was already turning back toward the arena. “We need to hurry, though. The guys have media obligations.”
I stood frozen on the sidewalk while Kevin waited. My friends exchanged looks that ranged from excited to concerned.
“Jacks?” Benji’s voice was careful. “You okay?”
Was I okay?
Had Skyler sent someone to find me—someone who worked for the Lightning?
After scoring a goal and playing in front of twenty thousand people, he’d made sure someone would track me down and bring me to him.
Or was this something else? Was one of the other guys pulling a prank? Why was my head spinning?
Bit if it was Sky?
It would be . . .
It would be huge.
It would be the kind of gesture that meant something.
It would be the kind of thing one did when another person mattered enough that he couldn’t let them disappear into the night after sharing something important.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice coming out rougher than intended. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“So we’re doing this?” Mia asked.
I looked at my best friends, all of whom were watching me with expressions that managed to be supportive and protective and excited all at once.
“We’re doing this.”
Kevin led us back into the arena through a side entrance I hadn’t noticed on our way in.
He badged us through security and down a series of hallways that got quieter and more institutional the further we went.
The sounds of the crowd faded behind us, replaced by the low hum of building systems and the distant echo of voices from what was probably the media room.
“First time behind the scenes?” Kevin asked as we walked.
“First time at a game,” I admitted.
“Really? Wow. Cap picked a good one for your first experience. He was incredible tonight. Two goals, played maybe his best game of the season.” Kevin glanced back at me. “He seemed pretty excited about you being here. He kept asking if we’d spotted his guests yet.”
His guests.
Not just me. Us.
He’d included my friends, people he knew mattered to me.
We stopped outside a door marked “PLAYERS & STAFF ONLY” in large red letters.
“Wait here for a second,” Kevin said. “Let me make sure he’s ready.”
He disappeared through the door, leaving the four of us standing in a sterile hallway that smelled like industrial cleaning supplies and athletic tape.
“This is surreal,” Finn muttered.
“This might be the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Benji corrected. “Outside of Finn’s engagement on top of the bar, of course.”
“Thanks for that,” Finn said, his words dripping with sarcasm.
“This is happening so fast,” Mia added, but her tone was more observation than warning, but before I could respond, the door opened again.
Kevin reappeared, grinning. “He’s ready for you.”
He held the door open and gestured for us to enter.