11. Griffin #2
Final seconds tick down. Lugano’s last desperate attempt is broken up by Tyler, who feeds Peter for the empty netter. 3-0 final. The buzzer sounds, and we’ve got the win.
I’m riding the high of the win as I make my way through the arena tunnels, freshly showered, my hair damp against my Titans hoodie. My body aches in that satisfying post-victory way, but my mind is fixated on one thing only.
Anika.
Anika and her mysteriously well-worn Visp jersey. Anika and her “ Hopp Schwiiz !!” banner. Anika, who sings along to Richi.
I spot her waiting near the player exit, chatting animatedly with a couple of other fans. She’s thrown her puffy coat back on over her jersey, but the collar still peeks out. When she sees me, she breaks into a dazzling smile that hits me square in the chest.
Breaking free of the group of Visp fans to greet me, she lets her gaze unabashedly rake over me. “Hey there, hockey star.”
“Hey there, hockey fan,” I counter, unable to keep the amusement from my voice.
She shrugs innocently, but she doesn’t fool me for a second. But before I can call her out, I hear the voices of my teammates behind me.
“Griff! You coming to celebrate?” Tyler calls out, followed closely by Christoph, Peter, and Kovy, our star defenseman from Russia.
“Yeah, in a bit,” I answer, then gesture toward Anika. “Guys, this is Anika. Anika, these are some of the guys. Tyler, Kovy, Christoph, and Peter.”
“ Jungs !” Anika calls out, launching into rapid-fire Swiss German that has Christoph and Peter laughing and responding just as quickly. Her hands gesture wildly as she recreates what must be key plays from the game.
Tyler shoots me a confused look, and I shrug. I’m just as lost. But watching Anika’s eyes light up as she talks hockey makes my chest feel tight in the best way.
“ Was für ein hammer Spiel !” Her eyes are bright with excitement, hands flying as she acts out what I think is a goal from the second period.
I stand there, understanding maybe one word in ten, feeling both impressed and slightly out of the loop.
I think she just said it was a great game. Christoph is nodding enthusiastically. She even surprises Kovy by responding to him in what sounds like passable Russian, which earns her a booming laugh and a clap on the shoulder that makes me instinctively step closer to her.
The guys are being friendly but not overly so, and I find myself cataloging each interaction with unusual scrutiny.
Watching her, I feel something shift inside me. It’s that feeling when a perfect pass lands right on your tape, or when you make a glove save that even you didn’t think was possible. That click of everything falling exactly into place.
Tyler grins and gives me a look and whispers, “Where did you find her?”
“Oh!” She suddenly catches herself and switches to English. “Sorry, Griffin. Tyler. I was just saying that diagonal pass across the neutral zone in the second period was chef’s kiss. I haven’t seen anything like it since Aebischer retired.”
“You know your hockey,” Peter says, impressed. “And what do you think of our netminder, Crash McGregor?”
Peter slaps me on the back, making me stumble a little closer to Anika.
Anika throws a disinterested side-eye my way. “Eh. Not bad for a backup goalie!”
“And that banner!” Peter suddenly exclaims, setting off a round of laughter among the Swiss players. “ Hopp Schwiiz ! For a league game?” He mimics her enthusiastic sign-waving, and several of the Swiss players burst into laughter.
Anika’s cheeks flush pink, but she’s laughing too.
“You were the loudest person in section three,” Christoph says, grinning as he pops open a sports drink. “Very passionate.”
“What’s so funny about her sign?” I ask, feeling like I’m missing the joke.
Peter claps me on the shoulder. “Griffin, my friend, ‘ Hopp Schwiiz ’ is what we chant when Switzerland plays against other countries. Like in international tournaments or the World Cup. Not for club games, where Swiss play against Swiss.”
“It means ‘Go Switzerland’ not ‘Go Visp,’” Tyler adds. “It would be like bringing an American flag to a game between the Rangers and Bruins.”
“Actually, that would be a very American thing to do,” Peter says.
Tyler nods thoughtfully. “You have a point there.”
“So she wasn’t cheering for the team?” I look at Anika, who’s trying and failing to look innocent. “She was just cheering for you Swiss guys, and ONLY for you Swiss guys?”
“In my defense,” she says, raising her hands. “I didn’t make a sign that said ‘Everyone But Griffin.’”
“But you thought it,” I tease.
Tyler laughs. “Man, Griffin, she had you at hello, didn’t she?”
The guys laugh at my expense, but I don’t mind. Seeing Anika so comfortable with my teammates, joking and smiling, does something to me.
I find myself studying the guys’ reactions to her, an unfamiliar tension creeping into my shoulders. But Peter and Christoph treat her like a knowledgeable fan, nothing more.
The relief I feel is…unexpected. And telling.
I feel my cheeks warm as Anika bumps her shoulder against mine. The guys exchange knowing glances that I choose to ignore.
“Anyway,” I say, clearing my throat, “I should probably walk Anika to her car.”
As we turn to leave, I puff out my chest a little with the satisfaction that none of guys seemed to give Anika the extra attention they usually reserve for attractive women who come to the games.
It’s only when we’re walking toward the parking garage and I realize my hand has somehow found the small of her back that it hits me.
I’m feeling jealous. Possessive, even. I barely know this woman, and yet the thought of any of my teammates catching her eye makes something primitive stir in my chest.
“Your friends are nice,” she says, glancing up at me with that smile that makes my stomach flip.
“And you are an absolute fraud.”
She stops in her tacks. “Fraud? Moi ?”
“You played me! That day you came to my cabin with cookies and toilet paper. You acted like hockey was the most boring thing in the world.”
“Did I say boring? I don’t recall saying boring.”
“You absolutely did. And then I said…” I pause, suddenly remembering my exact words that day. “I said if you found hockey boring, I’d buy you dinner to make up for wasting your time. And if you liked it, I’d definitely buy you dinner.”
She tilts her head with faux confusion. “I remember no such conversation.”
I should be annoyed at being played, but all I feel is fascination.
And something else, something deeper that I’m not ready to name yet.
But watching her celebrate our win, seeing how she lives and breathes this game like I do…
I’m falling for her. Hard and fast, like a winger losing an edge at full speed.
And unlike on the ice, I have no protective gear for this kind of fall.
“Oh really? ‘ Hockey seems boring, ’” I mimic her words from weeks ago. “And then there was that whole thing where you mixed up hockey and golf.”
Her lips twitch. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Anika.” I give her a look. “Clearly, you’re some kind of super fan. You were screaming at the ref about a missed interference call in the second period.
She adjusts her coat, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Was I?”
“You sang team chants. You knew all the words to our goal song.” I’m laughing now, completely charmed by this ridiculous woman.
She laughs, and it’s my new favorite sound. “Guilty.”
“How did I not see through you?” I marvel.
“Maybe you were too busy looking at my legs.”
“That…” I feel heat climbing up my neck. “That’s actually fair.”
We stand there for a moment, smiling at each other like idiots, and I feel something settling in my chest. Something warm and solid and terrifying.
“So,” I say, rocking back on my heels. “About that dinner I apparently owe you either way…”
Her smile falters slightly, a hint of vulnerability breaking through. “I believe I was tricked into that offer under false pretenses.”
“Dinner, Anika.” I step closer. Close enough to catch the scent of her shampoo mingling with the arena smells still clinging to her coat. “Let me take you to dinner.”
“Are you asking me on a date, McGregor?”
“Yes.” No hesitation.
She looks at me with those beautiful pale blue eyes, and I find myself stepping closer still. Aching to touch her. Counting the faint freckles playing against her nose.
“For practice, you mean,” she says.
Ouch. My confidence just took a serious hit.
“Right. For practice. We can go to my place,” I suggest, trying to keep my voice casual, even though I’m feeling zero chill right now. “I make a pretty decent pasta. We could do candles, wine…” I trail off with a hopeful smile.
Anika gives me a flat stare. “Nice try, Casanova.”
I laugh, holding up my hands in surrender. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
After a moment, she looks thoughtful. “You know, I’ve been thinking about all our…sessions so far.”
“Yeah?” I shift my weight, suddenly anxious about where this is going.
“All these practice dates have been so casual. Hiking, pizza, movies. It’s been fun, but…” She tugs at her jersey. “I’ve basically been in my comfort zone the entire time. Jeans, sweaters, boots.”
I tilt my head, studying her. “Is that a bad thing?”
“No,” she says quickly. “But…”
“But what?”
Anika hesitates, then meets my eyes. “I’d really like to dress up. Go somewhere nice.”
Something warm blooms in my chest. “Yeah?”
“It doesn’t have to be expensive or particularly fancy,” she adds hastily.
The image of Anika in a sexy dress flashes through my mind, and my mouth goes a little dry. “Money’s not an issue, Anika.”
She shakes her head firmly. “That’s not what I mean. It’s just…if Thomas wants to take me somewhere I need to dress nice, I need to know how to handle myself. What if I use the wrong fork or something?” Her voice gets smaller. “What if I completely mess up the date?”
My chest tightens at the mention of Thomas, but I push past it.
“I will definitely plan something like that for you,” I say, my voice softer than I intended. I reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering against her cheek. “Something where you can get dressed up and feel comfortable with the whole experience.”
Anything she wants, I’ll do it. Anywhere she wants to go.
Looking at her now, with snowflakes catching in her hair and her eyes bright from the game, I realize I’d probably take her to the moon if she asked right now.
I put my arms around her. She does not put her arms around me, but she doesn’t punch me either, and I decide not to be so needy.