Chapter Ten
Dash
I’m convinced I’m seeing things. Until those things begin to creep out from behind the fake tree strung with lights in the corner with a wince.
I cock my head to the side as I take in the auburn-haired boy with glasses holding a sign that reads Dash! I’m your biggest fan! P.S. My older sister thinks you’re hot, then the beautiful tinseled hair stylist I met the other day hidden behind him.
How is she here?
Not sure if I should be afraid I earned myself a stalker or flattered that she’s gone to such great lengths to see me again in person.
I focus on the boy first as he’s clearly the one I’m here to see. But I have every intention of dealing with Ruby with the tinsel next.
“Hey, man,” I say as I approach. “Good to meet you.” I extend my palm for a bro handshake, which he happily reciprocates, grabbing my hand with both of his smaller ones. His wide, gap-toothed smile nearly reaches the sides of his glasses.
“It’s awesome to finally meet you! Like my sign?” He holds the white posterboard—still creased from being folded into much smaller squares—out for me to inspect.
“Sure do. How else would I have known you were the one who won the tickets?”
“Right?” The kids snorts a laugh. “I knew you’d be a fan.”
His self-assuredness is as refreshing as it is entertaining.
“So your sister, huh?” I point to the bottom line as my gaze involuntarily tracks to the woman I’m trying not to look at.
She’s half-turned away from us, staring down at her navy tennis shoes like the answers to life are written on them, but I can tell she’s eavesdropping on our conversation. I can’t help but smile.
“She totally thinks you’re hot, even if she won’t admit it.”
I give a good-natured laugh and look around the space. “She here with you?”
The boy turns in a full circle until he spots the woman who’s unable to conceal herself behind the lighted tree. “Ruby? What the heck?”
My smile quickly grows. “Is she your older sister? The one who thinks I’m hot?”
The boy’s face scrunches with disapproval. “Yeah. But now I’m thinking maybe I shouldn’t claim her.”
“Aw, that’s too bad,” I say to the boy, fighting with all my might not to laugh. “She kind of looks like she might need to be claimed right now. That, or rescued.”
He lowers the sign and waltzes up to Ruby, muttering something I can’t quite hear. With a tug to her hand, he all but drags her back to where I’m standing. “Dash, this is my sister, Ruby. She’s my chaperone.” He says the last word like it’s a curse.
Again, I stifle the urge to laugh.
The woman I gave my number to barely meets my gaze from under her long, dark lashes. I briefly let my attention travel over her, not quite minding the way she squirms under my gaze.
“Chaperone, huh?”
Finally, she looks at me, all down-to-earth beauty and sparkly silken hair. Her reaction is quite telling. She’s obviously known who I was this whole time. Why not say something sooner?
Maybe there’s a reason she didn’t tell me her brother was the ticket winner when we first met. That reason may also be why she never called. But the only way I’ll find out is if I don’t screw things up right now.
So I politely dip my chin toward Ruby, greeting her as if we’ve never met. “Nice to meet you, Ruby. Glad you could make it out tonight.”
Her bright eyes collide with mine, widening with her obvious surprise. “Uh, nice to meet you, too,” she says quietly before tossing her brother an annoyed glance. “So that’s why your coat was so bulky tonight, huh?” Her lips form a thin line. “Why you refused to take it off?”
He takes a big bite of lasagna, completely ignoring her. “So Dash. Wait—it’s okay if I call you Dash, right?”
I chuckle. “Sure thing. All my other friends do.”
The kid’s face glows as if lit from within. “All right, then. You can call me Beck. Mostly just my family calls me that, but you’re special, so you can, too.”
A wide smile crosses my face at this kid’s candidness. “Thanks, Beck.”
“Hey, no problem. So, Dash, all the Stars jerseys were out of stock when we stopped by the shop.”
Ruby shifts on her feet, rolling her lips between her teeth. She looks as if she so badly wants to butt in but doesn’t. I have mad respect for the way she keeps her cool after he outed her like that.
“Don’t you have special access to merch and stuff like that?” the kid asks. “You know, because you’re on the team and all?”
“Beckett—”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” I say, cutting Ruby off. “Why don’t we swing by the dressing room after this, and I can grab you one of my actual practice jerseys?” Dude’s eyes grow huge. “Unless of course you’d rather have a different player’s practice jersey.”
“N-no way! You’re my favorite player of all time, Dash!”
Before I can thank him, he shoves both his plates toward Ruby and launches forward to wrap his arms around my middle, squeezing me tighter than even my nephews do after not seeing me for months.
“Wow, Beck,” I wheeze. “You’re a tight hugger.”
Ruby immediately reaches for him, but I hold up a hand to stop her. If the kid wants a hug, who am I to tell him no? I give him a firm and polite pat on the back.
He eventually lets go, chest heaving. “Wow, you’re even nicer in person!” He whirls toward his sister. “See? I told you Dash wasn’t a jerk like other famous people.”
My eyebrows lift. “Have many interactions with famous people, do you?”
Ruby laughs nervously. “Uh, no. I don’t know why he’s saying that.” She discreetly gives him a pinch under his arm. “But seriously, you don’t need to give him one of your practice jerseys. He’s just bummed because he brought money to buy his own and all the vendors were out.”
“It’s no problem at all, really. Besides, a practice jersey is more legit anyway.” I give Beck a wink. He nods in agreement.
“Well, we’ll pay you what one would’ve cost at retail then,” Ruby says in a decisive tone.
“Nah.” I wave her off. “It’s on me. It’s not a gift if I make you pay, and I’d like to gift my new friend Beck here a jersey.”
Ruby’s lips pinch together but she doesn’t argue.
“You were tough out there tonight,” Beck says. "Those guys were fast, but you were faster! Then when number seventy slammed you into the wall, I thought you were done for!”
My shoulder aches with the reminder. I flex and stretch my muscles in response. “Yeah, that was a close one.”
“But you recovered so quick! Then a few more moves and bam! You made it right into the goal!”
The slapshot play that got us the second goal of the game flashes in my mind. Hearing it happen from Beck’s point of view is more entertaining though. I’m flattered that the kid thinks so highly of me.
“That was a fun play,” I say. “Thanks for cheering me on, man.” I hold out my hand for another bro handshake, and he responds like we’ve known each other forever.
I’m not sure I’ve ever made a friend so fast in my life.
My focus catches on his sister, who has somehow backed away as if she’s not a part of this conversation.
Can’t have that.
“Did you enjoy the game, Ruby?” I ask, dying to hear her reply.
“Oh, um. Yeah. I did.” She glances around the room, whether out of nervousness or embarrassment, I’m not sure.
But I want her eyes on me.
“Ruby doesn’t like hockey,” Beck says matter-of-factly.
She scoffs. “That’s not true, Beckett. I like it, it’s just not my favorite sport.”
“Oh yeah? What’s your favorite, then?”
Someone laughs loudly at a table nearby, snagging her attention for the briefest moment before it lands back on me. “I, um…I’m not sure actually. I’ve never paid a lot of attention to sports.”
“Huh. And yet you’re certain that hockey isn’t your favorite?”
The slight curl of her mouth hints at a possible smile.
“She says it’s barbaric,” Beck interjects. “Whatever that means.”
I feign shock. “Barbaric, huh? You mean you don’t enjoy watching guys slice across the ice with death blades on their feet and potential weapons in their hands? Not to mention all the slamming people up against walls and such.”
She chuckles. “Exactly that.”
“Oh, come on, Ruby,” Beck whines. “Hockey is awesome. They skate so fast and so good. Don’t even get me started on the fights. They throw their gloves off and everything!”
I wince. “Eh, your sister might have a small point there.” Ruby bites her lip, seemingly trying not to smile. “But hey, at least when we fight, there are refs around to break it up in case we get too rowdy.”
“So it’s controlled.” Ruby watches me, clearly waiting for the right response.
“Somewhat.” I look down at Beck. “Just don’t pass that information along to anyone else. No one would come to the games if they knew it was all in good fun.” I wink. “Gotta keep people thinking we’re full-on barbarians out there.”
Beck rewards my humor with another of his wide, gap-toothed smiles.
Ruby? Barely a hitch of her lips. But I’ll take what I can get.
I’m still floored that the hair stylist I was so drawn to is none other than my ticket winner’s older sister. What are the odds of that? Plus, there’s got to be, what? At least a ten-year age difference between the two of them?
“Well, we’d better hurry and get going,” Ruby says, placing both hands on Beck’s thin shoulders. She leans down next to his ear. “We don’t want to take up all of Mr. DiFranco’s time. He’s probably got things to do and people to see.”
Beck looks like he wants to argue but doesn’t. He just faces me, clearly crestfallen but putting on a brave face. “Yeah, okay. But what about the jersey?”
I hook a thumb toward the exit. “We can go take care of that now, if you want.”
“Only if it’s not too much to ask,” Ruby eyes me apologetically, though I wish she wouldn’t.
“Of course not. After all, Beck’s my biggest fan.”
The kid beams. “Thanks, Dash.”
My chest tightens with a sense of responsibility, even as my heart swells. “You’re welcome, man,” I say, holding out my fist for a bump, which he returns.
This is why I fell in love with my pro career in hockey. Not just because I’m obsessed with the game itself, but because of fans like Beck. They’re loyal, dedicated to seeing their favorite players do well, and cheering us on when we’ve had a hard run.
But Beck’s loyalty isn’t the only thing prompting my generosity tonight. I’d be lying if I tried to deny wanting to impress the older sister he claims thinks I’m hot. Though if that were true, shouldn’t there be more flirty looks directed at me and less darting glances away from me?
I’ll make this entire interaction way too weird if I bring up the phone number thing or try to make them linger longer than Ruby wants, though I desperately want to. They probably have their reasons for needing to leave early, but I can’t let them go without keeping my word.
“Come on. Let’s head down to the dressing room, and I’ll grab that practice jersey for you.”
Ruby shifts on her feet. “We could just wait here—”
“No way, you’re coming with.” I gesture to their badges. “Those passes are good for player hallways and rooms too.” I have no idea if that’s true but why not? They’re guests of mine and I’m accompanying them, so…feels legit.
“You mean we’ll get to see where you guys suit up?” Beck’s eyes go buggy, so I answer before they actually pop out of his head.
“Yep. Let’s go.”