Wicked Games (Denver Rebels) (52 page)

That left only two other women to accompany Nadia to the restroom, and she wasn’t about to ask either of them. Arlene hated her guts, plus she was busy chatting with two women seated in the row behind them. And Hanh was…well, unapproachable.

So Nadia was on her own.

When she reached the restroom, there was a line. Fortunately, it moved fast enough to get her to an empty toilet before her full bladder exploded.

The bathroom was crowded with perky puck bunnies and weary mothers shepherding small children to stalls. While Nadia was peeing, she overheard two girls laughing and chattering at the row of sinks.

“No offense to Channing Tatum and Matt Bomer, but if they ever decide to make another
Magic Mike
, I think they should cast Reid Holden, Viggo Sandström, Hunter Duchene and Logan Brassard. Talk about a panty dropper! Those guys are, like, so fucking hot.”

“Oh my God, yes!” her friend squealed in agreement. “I would
totally
see that movie a million times. And I’d bring my damn vibrator!”

“Hells yeah!”

As the two friends burst into breathy giggles, Nadia flushed the toilet and came out of the stall with her teeth clenched. As she walked to the other end of the counter to wash her hands, the hockey hookers barely spared her a glance. They were too absorbed in their lewd ramblings as they reapplied lip gloss and fussed with their hair in front of the mirror. The busty blonde was wearing Reid’s jersey while the brunette sported Viggo’s.

“Speaking of watching something over and over again,” the blonde confessed in a naughty voice, “I can’t stop watching Reid’s Gatorade Ice commercial. It’s got, like, a gazillion views on YouTube, and half of those are probably from me. Seriously. I can’t get enough of him. He is
sooo
fucking sexy!”

“God, yes!” The brunette grinned lasciviously. “Is it pervy that every time he slams a player into the boards, I get massively turned on? I’m talking, like, instant cream in my panties.”

The blonde squealed. “I thought it was just me!”

“Hell, no!” The brunette giggled impishly and then sighed. “I just love hockey players. I’ve slept with other athletes, but there’s just no comparison. Hockey players are the absolute best lovers. Hands down, no contest.”

“Totally. They really know how to f—” The blonde broke off suddenly, catching Nadia’s reflection in the mirror. Something like recognition flashed in her eyes before she narrowed them and frowned, looking as if she were trying to recall where she’d seen Nadia before.

Nadia ran her hand through her hair and smirked.

The blonde quickly averted her gaze.

Finished with their primping, the two puck bunnies headed for the exit, still blathering on about Reid. “Like, if I doused myself with Gatorade, how fast do you think he’d be all over me? ’Cause I would
totally
— Oops!” The blonde broke off with a giggle as she bumped into Reid’s mother, who had just entered the restroom. “Excuse me.”

“There’s no excuse for your ilk.” Arlene’s arctic green eyes raked the girl from head to toe, her lips curled in a sneer of utter disgust. “And you’re not his type. Far from it.”

The girl blinked rapidly, her face turning beet red with humiliation. She ducked her head and mumbled another apology before beating a hasty retreat with her horrified friend, who could be heard whispering, “Holy shit, Amber! That was his mom!”

Nadia stared in disbelief as Reid’s mother made her way to the mirror and began fluffing her hair as calmly as if she hadn’t just eviscerated some hapless puck bunny.

“I wonder,” she mused in a cool tone. “Just how uncouth does one have to be to hold such a lurid conversation in a public restroom—with small children around, at that.”

It was a rhetorical question, so Nadia didn’t answer. But an older white woman walking by loudly hummed her agreement and patted Arlene’s back on her way out of the bathroom.

Suppressing a smile, Nadia leaned toward the mirror to retouch her lip gloss.

“It was the same way with his father in college,” Arlene remarked conversationally. “Girls were always throwing themselves at Roark and scheming to get in his pants. He was the big man on campus, the most popular hockey player on the team. On top of that, he was outrageously handsome. For the longest time, I lived in fear of him leaving me for someone prettier, skinnier, with bigger breasts and longer hair. But he never did.”

Arlene met Nadia’s gaze in the mirror. “If you’re going to be with my son, you’ll need thick skin to deal with all those shameless puck sluts. They’re becoming more and more aggressive every year, it seems. And Reid having a girlfriend—or a wife—won’t deter them from trying to seduce him. If anything, his unavailability will make him that much more irresistible. Tramps always want someone else’s man.”

Nadia grimaced, sickened by the thought.

“But you have nothing to worry about. Reid isn’t going anywhere.”

Nadia’s eyes flew to Arlene’s.

The older woman smiled intuitively. “I see the way he looks at you and the way you look at him. I see the way you watch him deliver those bruising hits, the way you can’t breathe until you know he’s okay, that he hasn’t caused any harm to himself. I recognize the look on your face because it was the same one I had when I used to watch his father play in college. And I’ve never loved any man the way I loved Roark Holden.”

Her voice gentled, her eyes tunneling into Nadia’s. “Reid has never brought any woman home to meet the family. But I’ve been to games attended by girls he was dating at the moment. They clapped and cheered for him, and they made sure everyone knew they were with him. But none of them ever watched him play with the same intensity that you do, the same heart-in-your-throat look. If I wasn’t convinced before that you love my son, I became a believer tonight.”

Nadia’s throat tightened with emotion. She swallowed hard, unable to speak.

“Before you saw me,” Arlene continued, “I overheard those girls talking about my son. I could see your reflection in the mirror, and I was waiting to see how you would respond to their lewd comments. I don’t know if they recognized you or not. But many of these puck sluts take malicious satisfaction in taunting the wives and girlfriends of hockey players, provoking them into catfights. The things they were saying must have been hard for you to hear. But I was hoping you would take the high road and not sink to their level. And that’s exactly what you did,” Arlene said, her eyes sparkling with admiration. “You held your tongue, proving just what a classy young lady you are. The kind of woman my son can be proud to have at his side.”

Nadia didn’t know what to say other than, “Thank you, Mrs. Holden.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you, Nadia. For loving my son, being there for him and making him happy.” Arlene’s expression softened, guilt filling her eyes. “I’m so sorry for the way I treated you yesterday. There’s no excuse for my behavior. Truth be told, I don’t even believe the deplorable things I said to you.”

“Then why did you say them?”

“I…well, I suppose I’m afraid of losing my son the way I lost his father. So I tried my best to shock you. To scare you away.” Arlene shook her head. “I’m truly ashamed of the way I behaved, and I wouldn’t blame you for never speaking to me again. But I hope you will. Because you mean the world to my son, and I’d really like to get to know you better.”

A lump rose in Nadia’s throat. She smiled tremulously. “I’d like that too.”

Arlene smiled as tears of relief shone in her eyes.

Just then a toilet flushed, and a woman emerged from the stall beaming at them. “That was really beautiful, ladies.”

Arlene and Nadia shared a self-conscious laugh.

“Come on,” Arlene said, companionably draping an arm around Nadia’s shoulders. “Let’s get back so we won’t miss anything.”

“Good idea,” Nadia agreed.

Together they returned to their seats to watch the rest of the game.

Five minutes into the second period, Detroit scored on a power play to tie the game at 2-2.

Less than two minutes later, the Rebels answered right back when Reid delivered a bone-jarring hip-check that stripped his opponent of the puck. Viggo seized the loose puck and skated down the left side of the boards as an opposing defenseman chased him. He crossed the blue line and charged into enemy territory, barging through defenders to approach the net at an angle. When he was close enough, he snapped the puck under the goalie’s outstretched glove to give the Rebels a 3-2 lead.

The Rebels’ bench exploded with cheers while the crowd booed and groaned in disgust. Grinning boyishly, Viggo shared a backslapping hug with Reid and then skated down the sideline, slapping hands with his teammates.

Aria whipped out her phone and huddled close to Avery and Nadia. “Selfie time!”

They all laughed and mugged for the camera as Aria snapped the picture, then posted it to her Instagram page.

At the end of the second period, a sideline reporter came over to interview Reid’s parents. They cheerfully answered his questions, beaming with pride as they spoke affectionately about their son.

When the reporter suddenly turned to Nadia and smiled, she was caught off guard.

“So, Nadia, I was just asking Reid’s parents how they’d feel if he didn’t score tonight. Despite what’s at stake for him personally, he’s been generously distributing the puck and not taking as many shots as most people were expecting. Not only that, but the Wings are throwing the kitchen sink at him. As the special woman in his life, how disappointed will you be if he doesn’t score that big goal tonight?”

When he thrust the microphone into Nadia’s face, that was when it hit her. If she was going to be with Reid, she’d have to get used to smiling for the cameras and talking to the media. There was no getting around it.

So she flashed an upbeat smile and answered, “Disappointed? Are you kidding? He’s having a great game. He’s racking up assists and making his presence felt out there. As for him not scoring, there’s still a whole period left to play, so I wouldn’t count him out if I were you.”

As the reporter grinned, Reid’s father caught her eye, smiled approvingly and winked.

Then Avery and Aria directed her attention to the Jumbotron, where the three of them appeared on the screen. They grinned, waved and gestured proudly to the number six on their jerseys.

In the final thirty seconds of the game, the score was tied at 4-4 and appeared to be headed into overtime.

Suddenly Reid stole the puck from Detroit’s right winger and raced down the ice on a breakaway.

A gasp went up from the crowd.

Nadia felt her heart thumping wildly as she watched Reid. His powerful legs were pumping, his skates slashing the ice as he charged forward with explosive speed. All that stood between him and Detroit’s net was an eagle-eyed goaltender.

The crowd had gone silent as if collectively holding its breath.

The goaltender confronted Reid in front of the net. Reid deked left, effortlessly sliding the puck from his forehand to his backhand. When the goalie bought the fake, Reid pulled back his stick and lasered the puck right through the goalie’s legs.

It all happened so fast Nadia would have missed it if she’d blinked a second too soon.

When the scoreboard lit up, a collective gasp of shock swept over the crowd. Not only had Reid just clinched the win, he’d also scored his three hundredth career goal!

As he pumped his fist in the air, his family and friends erupted in celebration, leaping to their feet as they cheered and screamed and hugged one another.

Beaming ecstatically, Avery and Aria waved homemade signs that read:
CONGRATULATIONS ON GOAL #300!!! WE KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!!!

Reid’s mother hugged and kissed his father right on the lips, then turned around and embraced Nadia so hard she thought her ribs might snap. They pulled apart and grinned at each other, tears streaming down their faces.

Down on the ice, Reid was celebrating with his teammates, laughing as they swarmed him with triumphant grins and pounded him excitedly on the back.

The crowd was stunned, their crestfallen faces captured on the Jumbotron.

Several fans stood and began to boo and jeer in bitter disappointment.

Nadia bit her lower lip as she looked around the arena. She hoped this wouldn’t get too ugly.

And then something amazing happened.

As if in slow motion, clusters of fans rose to their feet and began clapping and chanting Reid’s name.

Nadia exchanged stunned looks with his family and friends. Was this really happening?

Dawn’s prescient words drifted through her mind:
This is Detroit. Anything’s possible.

Apparently so
, Nadia marveled, watching as more and more people stood up. There were some boos interspersed with the applause, but the angry and disgruntled fans were soon drowned out by the graciously magnanimous ones.

Reid pulled off his helmet and ran his fingers through his damp hair, sweat streaking down his face. Slowly he looked around the arena, the arena he’d dreamed of playing in when he was growing up. He looked amazed and humbled by the sight of so many fans on their feet cheering for him, celebrating his accomplishment even after he’d just put a dagger through their hearts by defeating their team.