Icebreaker (Gamebreakers Book 1) by Elise Faber & Kat Mizera

Author:Elise Faber & Kat Mizera [Faber, Elise & Mizera, Kat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elise Faber
Published: 2024-10-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Aspen

I’ve been in this arena hundreds of times before.

But I’ve never seen it like this.

Let’s just say I get why there’s so much to clean up after game nights.

And I’m thankful that I won’t be facing off with Cheryl over a speck on the cupholders tomorrow morning.

The place is packed, and people are spilling drinks, dropping popcorn, smooshing candy into the space beneath their feet.

My hands hurt just thinking about the cleanup crew.

And I’m extra careful as I settle my drink in the cupholder and start in on my oversized tub of popcorn.

I didn’t buy snacks.

They were delivered to me.

Likely because Banks knows that I can’t afford to pay arena prices—or won’t pay them, anyway.

My heart actually does a little pitter-patter in my chest.

I never realized that’s a real thing.

But Banks…well, he’s sweet.

We didn’t meet up at the arena because he had to be here early to get ready for the game, but he arranged for Briggs to drop off my car today so I have wheels again.

And I still paid for the repairs, even though the sneaky man tried to maneuver around me.

I might like him—might really like him—but I’ve spent too long looking after myself just to let some man sweep me off my feet and forget why I struck out on my own in the first place.

I need to be independent. I need to be able to provide for myself.

I can’t lie, though.

Having Banks on my side feels nice.

Walking me to my car after my shifts at The Sapphire Room, making sure I got home safe. Sleeping next to me and helping me polish off Mrs. X’s strudel.

And all the while…he isn’t mean.

There aren’t slicing comments I have to weed through, searching for an insult.

It’s just Banks and me.

Ah, there’s that slippery slope again.

But I can’t seem to stop myself from taking the joyride, especially when the ticket he sent to my phone also came with a VIP parking pass.

And the snacks.

And the seat.

I grew up back east where hockey’s more common, but I’ve never been to a game, so this is…culture shock to me.

The space that’s normally cold and quiet, sounds echoing through the concrete stairs, is a cacophony of noise—kids yelling, ushers giving directions, various random conversations surrounding me on all sides. There’s the rumble of the ice resurfacer, the vibrations of music being played over the huge speakers mounted on the Jumbotron hanging above the ice.

The lights are bright, but not long ago they dimmed for the players’ entrance, smoke and the team’s song blasting, the crowd cheering as the Vipers skated onto the ice.

Now the anthem has been sung, and everyone’s taking their proper positions—or at least, I think so.

Five guys on each side of the ice, a goalie in each net. The referees—four of them in their black and white striped shirts—spread out.

There’s a hush that has me holding my popcorn closer.

And then the puck drops.

For a second, I don’t know what’s happening, or I can’t keep up. It’s so much faster than on TV and I don’t have the announcers telling me what’s going on.

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