Chapter 6
Jeremiah
Charlie skipped along beside me, proudly wearing her navy jersey with SANDERS stitched across her shoulders. Any other day, she’d be repping her burgundy Denver jersey, but we weren’t Denver fans tonight.
Wes had gotten us access passes so that we could visit him before the game and away from the crowds.
Once our tickets had been scanned and we’d passed through the metal detectors, we turned in the direction of the tunnels.
I shot a quick text to Wes to let him know we were on our way.
Charlie wasn’t even fazed by the towering security guard, happily displaying her access pass and then tugging me along whenever he opened the doors.
We’d barely made it around the corner when Wes’s unmistakable voice boomed off the cinderblock walls.
“Charmander!”
Charlie left me in the dust, barreling down the hall to Wes who snatched her up easily and hefted her onto his hip.
“Where’d you get that jersey?” he asked, tugging on the shoulder so he could see the back.
Charlie giggled. “You gave it to me for my birthday, silly!”
“Oh! Right!” Wes played along. “I’ve got good taste.”
I rolled my eyes affectionately as I finally caught up to them.
Wes turned his blinding smile to me and held his hand out.
I clapped my palm against his before tugging him in for a quick side hug.
With his skates on, he had an extra inch or two on me, causing me to have to look up in order to make eye contact with either one of them.
“She demanded I let her wear it to school, so if there’s any marker smudges or jelly on it, that’s on her.”
“I kept it clean. I promise!” Charlie held both of her arms out for us to see. “I was super careful.”
Wes placed a solid kiss to her temple. “Of course you were, Char.”
She still gave her jersey another once over just to be sure. Then she draped her arms back around his neck.
“Feeling ready for the game?” I checked, tucking my hands into my pockets.
Wes let out a huff as he ran his free hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face. “As ready as I can be. Donny got into it with a guy the last time we played Denver, and he’s out for blood, so we’ll see how it goes.”
I rolled my eyes. I’d played against Donny Ventris enough times to know that he’d be in the penalty box plenty tonight and would most likely leave with a black eye for a souvenir.
The universal rule in hockey was that no one touched the goalie, so I’d been safe from him for the most part, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t tried.
Wes had always been there, though, to set him straight with a good knock to the jaw.
Now they were on the same team, which meant Wes was at least safe from ending up on the other end of Donny’s fist, but at the risk of being on the penalty kill more often than he’d like.
“Yo, Sandman! Time for warm-ups!” a player called from down the hall, too far away for me to determine who it was. Granted there were so many new guys now that I hardly knew even a quarter of the team.
Wes waved him off before turning back with a heavy sigh. “All right, Charmander. I’ll see ya on the bench. You cheer extra loud for me.”
“I’m sure you’ll hear her. Even through the glass,” I teased.
They gave each other one more big squeeze before Wes set her down, and she took my hand instead.
“Give ‘em hell!” I called out.
“Yeah! And stay on your feet this time!” Charlie added.
Wes narrowed his eyes at her as he backed down the hall, but he still had that adoring smile plastered on his face.
As soon as he turned, I held out my fist, which Charlie happily bumped with her own.
We headed back to the main area of the arena and made a pitstop at the concessions for popcorn and drinks before going to find our seats.
Like he’d promised, Wes had placed us right next to the Away Team Bench so Charlie could harass him all night like the little menace she was.
At least someone else would be on the receiving end of her chirping, and I’d get a break for once.
“No way. Can’t be.”
I froze. While it had been a couple years since I retired, there were still some die-hard NHL fans that would recognize me when I was out and about, even here in Denver.
Granted, living in a big city and regularly attending games didn’t exactly help people forget.
It never bothered me, though, as long as they kept my family out of it and let Charlie be.
She didn’t choose to have a retired pro athlete for a father.
I shifted forward in my seat as I turned, so my body would block her from the fan’s view.
My cordial smile slipped the second I recognized Zoe, decked out in a Denver jersey and matching baseball cap.
She had her hair tied back in a messy bun like it had been that first practice when she’d introduced herself to the team and their families.
It hit me, then, that I had one hundred percent been giving her the up-down, and I quickly forced my eyes to meet hers, hoping my cheeks didn’t turn pink and give me away.
“Hey!” I cleared my throat when my voice came out a touch too high. “What are you doing here?”
She pointed to the empty seat next to me, an amused tilt to her lips. “This is my season ticket spot.”
“You’re kidding.”
Out of all the seats in the arena, she just so happened to have the one right next to us. What were the chances of that?
Zoe laughed lightly. “Unfortunately, my guilty pleasure is harassing the Away team. Usually Uncle Cal comes with me, but he’s busy tonight.”
I moved my elbow off the armrest to give her room as she sat down. “And you didn’t have anyone else to take his place?”
A boyfriend, perhaps?
“Nope. My best friend doesn’t know a lick about hockey, despite many years spent trying to teach her.”
“Well, I guess you lucked out then, because you get me and Charlie.” I smiled, more pleased with the situation than I should be.
Charlie had been too distracted searching for Wes among the swarm of white jerseys entering the rink to notice Zoe. I tapped her on the shoulder.
“Tot. Look who’s here.”
Zoe leaned forward on her elbows to smile around me at Charlie. “Hey, Charlie girl.”
Charlie whipped around so fast, her dark hair hit me in the face.
“Coach! You’re sitting with us?”
“Apparently so!”
“Look at that. Now you’ve got all your favorite people here,” I said.
As if he sensed Charlie’s attention straying, Wes skated up to the glass and bent down to eye level with her.
I wasn’t the least bit surprised when, instead of blowing her a kiss, he scrunched up his nose and stuck his tongue out.
Charlie returned the expression and beat her palm against the glass a few times before grinning at him.
“Old teammate?” Zoe asked.
“And best friend. Sometimes more like an annoying little brother.”
Once Wes left to start his stretches, Charlie focused back on Zoe.
“Uncle Wes gave me this jersey for my birthday. It has his name and number on it.”
She pulled her hair to the side to show it off.
Zoe leaned closer to fully inspect the jersey, and the scent of her perfume wafted over me—a delicious blend of vanilla and cinnamon.
The combination reminded me of nights spent curled up by the Christmas tree with fresh sugar cookies that were actually meant for Santa. It was utterly intoxicating.
Nope. I needed to put a full stop to that train of thought right away.
I also needed to stop noticing how beautiful Zoe was. And I definitely needed to stop thinking about how she’d felt when I’d made the spur-of-the-moment—and extremely stupid—decision to wrap my arms around her when we’d played one-on-one.
There were so many reasons I couldn’t go down that path.
One, I didn’t have the time to pursue anything romantic.
Not as a single father of a very energetic seven-year-old.
Any attempt at a romantic relationship wouldn’t be fair, not if I couldn't give Zoe the time she deserved. Second, and most importantly, Zoe was Charlie’s coach and had quickly become one of her idols.
Pursuing any-thing with Zoe could put the quality of their relationship at risk, and Charlie would always come first.
No, it would be best if I kept our interactions as cordial as possible and kept all of those inappropriate thoughts squashed.
Which was really hard to do when Zoe’s knee was pressing against my own.
“I’m a Denver fan myself, but I’ll admit, that’s a really nice jersey,” Zoe complimented. “I bet you’re very excited to have your uncle in town.”
She sat back upright, and I released the breath I’d been holding.
“Does he get to stay very long?” she asked, her question directed at me now.
“He’s spending the night so he can have breakfast with Charlie before they head back out on the road. But he’ll be visiting for Christmas.”
I should have known the mention of Christmas would have Charlie’s attention, even though we were still a good three months out.
“Daddy, don’t forget to order the gingerbread kits this year. You promised we’d build a gingerbread house,” she reminded me.
“A gingerbread kit?” Zoe scoffed. “You need the real thing. The icing in those kits is terrible, and it always ends up falling apart. I can bake you some fresh gingerbread and make you a batch of the stickiest icing you’ve ever seen.”
Charlie’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Really.”
Charlie did a little happy dance before getting distracted by Wes knocking his stick against the glass on his way back to the locker room. But my attention was still on Zoe.
“Thank you,” I murmured softly.
She leaned toward me, and I fought tooth and nail not to get caught up in her scent again. Gingerbread houses… the smell of cinnamon and vanilla… sharing Santa’s cookies with Z—
“We just have to hope that my memory is better than yours or we’ll both be on the chopping block,” she whispered conspiratorially.
“I don’t think she’s going to let us forget.”
The entire arena was vibrating with energy.
The game was tight, and there’d been several near-fights, but no one had fully committed to one.
Wes had taken a couple hard hits, and when one had knocked him down to the ice, Charlie had scolded him for not staying on his feet like she’d told him to, even if there was no way he could hear her over the crowd.
More often than not, Zoe had been sitting literally on the edge of her seat. Unless the puck was loose in front of either goal. Then she’d stand up, as if that would help her see through the mass of bodies.
We were halfway through the third period with Seattle ahead by one goal and a face-off in Denver’s defensive zone.
Charlie stood with her nose pressed to the glass, and Zoe had her hands in a prayer position.
Either way was a win for me; Seattle had been my family at one point, but I was a Denver fan, born and raised.
The puck shot out, and Wes quickly got a blade on it, but he struggled to get his feet under him enough to do anything about it. A Denver player easily snatched it off his stick and made a break to the goal, the Seattle defense struggling to catch up to him. He wound his arm back and…
Direct shot into the goalie’s glove.
The whistle blew and the teams returned to their benches for a media break. Zoe finally sat back in her seat, but I could still feel the pent-up energy radiating off of her.
This break, they decided to go with the classic Kiss Cam.
I’d never cared for the tradition; the secondhand embarrassment was too strong for me.
While there were always a handful of couples excited to be chosen and more than happy to show off their affections, there were still enough cringe-worthy couples to make it uncomfortable.
“Daddy, look!”
To say I was horrified to find my own face staring back at me from the jumbotron with a frame of hearts around it was an understatement.
Add in the fact that the camera was focused on me and Zoe, and I was ready to pull a Coldplay Kiss Cam move and duck down behind the boards if I thought I could fit.
Instead, I shook my head no, trying my best to signal to the cameraman that we were not a couple.
In my peripheral vision, I could see Zoe doing the same, but I didn’t dare look at her directly in fear of encouraging the crowd to cheer any louder.
We were already getting some boos for taking so long.
Was the idea of kissing Zoe appealing? Yes. Did I want to kiss her in front of my daughter and a stadium full of strangers? Hell no. Did that go against my earlier decision to not think of Zoe in that way? One hundred percent.
A small hand cupped my face, interrupting my internal panic, and Charlie planted a massive kiss to my cheek. The boos quickly turned into awws, and the screen finally switched to a different couple who didn’t hesitate to lock lips.
I’d never been so grateful for my daughter. When I turned to face her, she was giggling like a little fiend. I cupped the back of her head and planted a kiss on her crown.
“Nice save, Tot.”
“Making saves on and off the ice,” Zoe added, but there was a tightness to her voice.
Steeling myself and accepting the fact that my face was flushed with no hope of hiding it, I looked at Zoe.
“I’m pretty sure we would have had the entire arena coming after us without her quick thinking,” I said.
Zoe nodded. “Oh, definitely. We were on the brink of a riot.”
The ref’s whistle broke the slight tension between us as the game resumed. That didn’t mean I missed the slight blush on Zoe’s cheeks, though.