“There you are,” Laura said, standing so they could squeeze by her. “Where did you disappear to?”

“Reporter from the CBC spotted us and wanted an interview.” The younger of the two men smiled, his broad grin just like Jason’s.

“Remi, this is Matt, Jason’s youngest brother.” Remi stood too, and Matt shook her hand, the charm in his smile tugging at her. There was a definite family resemblance between all the brothers, although she hadn’t met Tag yet, still down on the ice.

“And I’m Logan,” the other said with an equally engaging smile and a sparkle in his dark eyes. “The good-looking brother. Matt’s the baby.”

Hardly a baby. Remi let Matt squeeze his big body past her to his seat and Logan shook her hand, towering over her, giving her an up and down look that made her feel warm and tingly. Those boys had good looks and charm just pouring off them, and how unfair was that, along with their mega athletic talent?

They settled into their seats.

“Does this feel weird for you?” Remi asked Jason’s mom. “Watching your sons play against each other? Who do you cheer for?”

“It is hard, although it’s happened many times. I just want them both to play well.”

From down the row, Remi heard a snort. “Tag’s too old and decrepit to play well,” Logan said and Matt guffawed. Laura rolled her eyes.

“Do you enjoy hockey, Remi?” she asked.

“Sort of. I don’t know much about it. I’ve only ever been to a few games.”

“Hmm.” Jason’s dad Doug spoke up. A big, quiet man, he’d barely spoken since they’d arrived at the arena. “We’ll have to teach you a few things about the game, then.”

“Don’t bore her,” Laura said, leaning forward to look at her husband.

“No, please—I want to learn. The last game I came to with a girlfriend and neither of us knew what was going on.”

“Trade places with me, Dad,” Logan demanded. “I want to sit beside Remi. I can explain things to her.”

“You stay in your own seat,” Doug told him. Matt laughed.

Remi’s cheeks warmed and she caught Laura’s smile.

A sell-out crowd packed the arena tonight, the last home game of the regular season for the Wolves, and it was do or die. If they didn’t win tonight, the season was over. All the fans—including Remi and Jason’s family—wore white, thanks to a huge media campaign. Five guys sitting behind them had painted their faces like wolves and howled repeatedly. Remi found herself bouncing in her seat, the excitement in the air electric, energetic, galvanized.

The players skated back out onto the ice to thunderous cheering, blasting music and a blinding light display. Remi stood with the others and clapped until her hands throbbed. The crowd started whistling and cheering again halfway through the national anthem. Remi couldn’t help but laugh, exchanging smiles with both Jason’s parents at the exuberance of the fans. Compared to the last game she’d been to, this was way more intense.

Jason moved to center ice and she leaned forward, her body tense, as he prepared to take the face-off. “That’s Tag,” Laura said in Remi’s ear. Oh dear lord. Jason was facing off against his brother. Nerves clutched at her stomach.

The referee paused with the puck in the air as the two centers appeared to exchange words. What were they saying to each other? Then the crowd went wild when Jason won the face-off and one of his teammates took off with the puck.

“They both play center,” Laura explained to Remi. “For a lot of years Jason played right wing, I think because he didn’t want to try to compete with Tag, but he’s so good at center.”

Remi nodded. Sibling rivalry was a difficult thing at the best of times. She’d seen it with Jasmine and Kyle, despite her best efforts to treat them equally. What on earth would it be like in an intensely competitive environment like hockey?

She focused on the game, her eyes constantly seeking and finding Jason. The Wolves played well, attacking and keeping the puck down in the Phoenix zone, and it seemed like Jason was everywhere, all the time. And yet the other team was right there with him, constantly hitting him and knocking him around.

“Why are they doing that?” she demanded in frustration, when once again he’d taken another brutal hit into the boards and lost the puck.

“Because he’s the best player on the team,” Jason’s dad said dryly. “They gotta stay on him or they know he’ll score.”

Pride swelled in her, so big and warm she thought she might burst. That was her man down there. He loved her. She loved him.

Then Jason was smashed into the boards in a glass-shuddering, bone-jarring, head-shaking body check. Remi slid to the edge of her seat, trying to see if he was okay, while her heart went into a brief arrhythmia.

The crowd all yelled, demanding a penalty.

“That was a good check,” Doug said to her. “There shouldn’t be a penalty.” Like hell there shouldn’t! Whoever had done that to Jason should be kicked out of the game! But there was no penalty despite the crowd’s loud protests. Jason skated off to the bench, straightening his helmet.

Remi pressed a hand to her stomach and saw Laura’s glance at her. “Don’t worry,” Laura said. “He’s tough. That’s just part of the game.”

Remi turned to her. “How could you watch that when he was little? You must have been so scared he’d get hurt.”

“Yes, I was. Terrified. Every single game.” Laura shook her head, mouth still lifted into a smile, eyes on the game. “When they’re really young, of course, there is no body checking. But then they get older and the game gets a lot more physical. But there was no way I could stop any of the boys from playing. They loved it so much. Jase especially needed to play hockey.”

Remi absorbed that. Was that because of his ADHD? Sports were a great way for kids to learn self-discipline and focus. Maybe it had been especially important for him.

And then Phoenix scored.

Although they were in the midst of a Wolves crowd, Laura and Doug cheered the goal because Tag had scored it.

Remi nibbled her lip as they announced the goal. “What does that mean when they say assisted by?” she asked Doug.

“Carver passed it to Romanov, who passed it to Tag,” he explained. “So they get credit for assisting with the goal.”

She’d seen all those stats—goals, assists and a whole lot more she couldn’t figure out - GP, PIM, +/-, PP. ABCDEFG. Whatever.

The crowd was momentarily subdued by the goal, but the Wolves came back strong and peppered the Stars goaltender with a series of hard, fast shots that had everyone in the arena screaming and groaning in unison.

“Damn!” Remi cried when another shot missed, her hands in fists. Oops. She slanted a grimace at Laura. Laura just grinned. And then one of the Stars got the puck and shot it all the way down the ice.

“Icing,” Laura announced.

““What does that mean?”

The whistle blew. “If a player shoots the puck all the way down the ice and a player from the other team touches it first, it’s icing.”

Remi nodded. Okay.

The puck was brought back to the Stars end for another face-off. Jason skated around on one foot, then the other, waiting for the ref to crouch with the puck. Remi admired his grace on skates. She’d learned to skate as a little girl, but had never been so confident or graceful as he was and she could only admire the incredible skill it took to move that fast, stop that quickly, turn that sharply on those two thin blades. Amazing.

The first period ended with the score one-nothing for Phoenix. “Going to get beers,” Matt announced, standing up. “Remi, can I bring you one?”

“You’re not old enough to drink here,” Doug told his son, pushing him back down into his seat.

Matt grinned sheepishly. “I could get away with it.”

He probably could. He certainly looked older than nineteen with his massive size.

“I’ll bring her a drink,” Logan said, giving his brother a punch as he passed by him. Matt punched him back. Remi had to laugh. “Wanna come for a walk with me, Remi?”