“I’ve been reading about hockey on the internet,” she told Delise. “So hopefully I know what’s going on.”

“I think it’s pretty simple. They score a goal by shooting the puck into the other team’s net.”

“Well, duh. I got that much.”

“There’s no half time.”

Remi grinned. “No. Three periods. Two intermissions.” She picked up her Diet Coke and sipped it. “I guess we’ll figure it out.”

She wasn’t prepared for how fast the players moved, the brutal hits that shuddered the glass above the boards, and the way the puck sometimes missed the net in a blistering shot that sent it soaring over the boards.

“Jesus,” Delise muttered. “You could get hurt at one of these games.”

Remi’d flinched once too, when two players fought over the puck and sent it flying in their direction.

Jason was one of the players who did the face-off thing, trying to get the puck, bending low to the ice, legs wide apart. He seemed to win most of the face-offs, from what she could tell. But the score wasn’t reflecting that. The visiting team, the Miami Fins, scored one goal and then another.

Remi and Delise exchanged disappointed glances at the score. She wanted Jason to win. Maybe he’d score a goal. According to the team’s website, he was one of their top scorers.

And then he got the puck and broke away from the rest of the players, racing toward the Fins’ net all on his own, carrying the puck. The crowd roared and Remi’s heart jumped. He drew back his stick and took the shot—oooh, a fake! He did a quick little maneuver and shot to the opposite side of the net, but no! The goalie stretched out a gloved hand and made what seemed to be an impossible save.

The crowd all groaned and Remi slumped back in her seat. “Damn!”

Jason’s teammates all skated in after him and they shot the puck back and forth around the net, across the ice, around the net again. “What are they doing?” Delise muttered. “They need to shoot at the net to get a goal.”

“I think they’re trying to set something up.”

Remi caught the amused glances of a couple sitting in front of them and realized how clueless she and Delise must sound. She bit her lip. Hopefully those people didn’t know she was there as Jason’s guest. She wouldn’t want to embarrass him.

And then a Fin got the puck and Jason took off after him and, to Remi’s horror, he smashed the guy into the boards with a thundering crash. The crowd cheered in delight, but Remi put her hands to her mouth. Dear god, he was going to kill the other guy. Or himself. Or both of them.

But they both skated away, although Jason had to adjust his helmet.

Every muscle in her body was tense. Sheesh. She had to relax.

The pace was sizzling, the action nonstop, the tension high. For the rest of the first period, it seemed the teams were skating from one end of the rink to the other and back again. These guys had to be in great shape, although as she watched it seemed to Remi that sometimes they only played for a minute at a time, constantly hopping off the ice onto the bench and being replaced by players barreling over the boards and racing into the game.

When the buzzer sounded to end the first period, the Wolves were still down two to zero.

Remi and Delise stood to go out onto the concourse area and stretch their legs.

“Holy smokes,” Remi said. “I don’t know about the players, but I’m exhausted.”

Delise shook her head. “You were playing that whole game with Jason.”

Remi frowned. She had been caught up in it. It was exciting—but scary. Thrilling—but stressful.

“Oh my god.” Remi clutched Delise’s arm.

“What?”

“Look over there. It’s Brianne Haskett.”

“Who? Oh, yeah. I see her. Rumor has it she’s going to model for Victoria’s Secret.”

Remi’s stomach plunged to her toes. “Really? It figures.”

“Why?” Delise looked at her, eyebrows lifted.

“She’s Jason’s ex-girlfriend.”

Delise’s eyebrows flew higher. “Wow.”

“I know. Don’t say it. What the hell’s he doing with me, right? I told you, he’s just being nice to me.”

“I wasn’t going to say that. Geez Remi, give yourself some credit. You’re gorgeous too.”

Remi tipped her head to one side and smiled at her friend. “I love you. I wonder what she’s doing here.”

Delise gave a crooked smile. “Cheering on her ex? Wonder if she still has feelings for him.”

“He dumped her. Could be.” She watched Brianne talk to a group of other women, all of them tall, gorgeous, exquisitely groomed and expensively dressed. She sighed. “Let’s go back in.”

The drama continued to the third period, when the Wolves scored a goal, making it two-one, then they blew one chance after another to tie it up. Remi sat on the edge of her seat the entire period, cheering the team on, earning amused glances from Delise.

And then, along the boards in the corner near the Fins’ net, Jason was scuffling for the puck with another player. First he got it, then the other player stole it, then Jason, and he whirled around to skate around the net and try to get the puck in. So close! The crowd screamed, Remi clutched her hands together—and another Fin body checked Jason, knocking him to the ice. Hard.

Another Fin took the puck and raced out of their end with it, leaving Jason lying on the ice, still.

“Oh dear god.” Remi pressed her hands to her mouth, staring at Jason’s motionless body. Then he moved and hunched up onto his hands and knees and Remi’s stomach lurched when she saw the blood all over the ice beneath him.

The whistle blew and play stopped while the Wolves all came back to surround Jason. A man in khaki pants, T-shirt and runners came out onto the ice, slipping and sliding his way over to Jason, who by that time was on his feet and skating slowly toward the bench, holding his face.

Remi couldn’t breathe, her heart thudded so hard in her chest. The arena faded into a blur and a distant buzz of sound as she watched Jason leave, blood pouring from his face. Another player brought his stick and his helmet, which had been knocked off him.

She looked wide-eyed at Delise. “Oh god. I hope he’s okay.”

A small crease marked between Delise’s brows and she put a hand on Remi’s arm and squeezed. “He was walking and talking. He’ll be fine. It’s not like they carried him out on a stretcher.”

“Oh god.” He was gone now and she had no idea what had happened to him or if he was okay.

The rest of the game was a blur. The Wolves didn’t manage to score another goal, ending the game with a loss, but the exciting fun had gone for Remi. When the buzzer ended the game, she and Delise made their way out of the arena, buffeted by the large Wolves’ crowd.

“Okay,” Delise said. “Where should we go for dinner?”

“Oh.” Remi took a breath of the crisp late afternoon air, standing on Grand Avenue. “I don’t care.”

Delise looked at her sideways and one corner of her mouth deepened. “You okay?”

“Of course! Why?”

“You seem kind of distracted.”

“I’m fine. Just wondering how Jason is.”

“Uh-huh.”

“What does that mean?”

“I thought there was nothing between you.”

“There isn’t.”

“You seem awfully upset about him being hurt. Which is just one more reason why dating a hockey player is a bad idea.”

Remi tightened her lips. She knew it was a bad idea. Delise didn’t have to keep telling her that.

Delise sighed. “Why don’t you just call him?”

“I uh…don’t know his number.”

“Oh. You better fix that.”

“If he wanted me to have it, he’d have given it to me.” They started walking and Remi tucked her big turquoise scarf up higher under her chin against the late afternoon breeze off Lake Michigan. “He has my number.”

“If he called your cell, you should have his number.”

“Hey, you’re right.” Remi pulled her cell phone out and flipped it open, thumbing her way through incoming calls. There it was. She bit her lip. Should she call him?