Nic grunted beside me but I ignored her. I wasn’t here in the same capacity as those other girls. Troy and I were not getting involved again.

I was here for a reason.

Just hope I’ll know it when it happens.

I rubbed at the ridges of my sweater. “Oh, well, I’m always cold,” I told her, feeling as though I needed to respond to the unnecessary comment about Troy’s girlfriends.

I hated that it stung a little.

I turned to the team entering the ice. Troy immediately scanned to look for me this time and smiled.

I didn’t smile back.

Of course this was who Troy was. A womanizer. And I was his flavor of the week apparently.

I was getting sick to my stomach—guts twisting with doubt, confusion and anger.

That kiss. That glorious kiss. How could someone who’d mindlessly hurt me years ago kiss me like it’s all he ever wanted?

Troy didn’t cheer when he got on the ice. He was focused. Tapping his stick on the ice twice and taking position. In high school, Troy's signature move was a twist of the stick, a few actually. It was a nervous tick he had. But he wasn’t nervous here. He was confident. Ready. Patient.

When the puck dropped, he went for it. I watched his moves, his steals, the evenness and self-assurance that emanated from him—it was captivating. I didn’t know hockey well but it was always tough watching Troy play. He was good, but he struggled with the game, fought to keep up and always seemed to pick a fight.

The ice was clear during intermission before third period and I was starting to plan out my exit because I was not about to get stuck behind a wild crowd again.

“I want to go before the game ends,” I warned Nic softly so the couple next to us didn’t ask questions. Mila had been grilling me for the past thirty minutes about how I knew Troy and if it was serious between us. I told her she could count on someone else being in this seat next week. After that, she pretty much left me alone.

“Are you kidding? How do we find out who wins?”

I shrugged. “Probably at work?”

“Hmm.”

I started looking around and behind me, scouting the closest exit door. When the howling started again, along with confused chatter, I knew I needed to figure one out quick, while people were still seated and I could see all the paths clearly.

I yelped and flipped around when Nic squeezed my thigh. “What the hell Nic?”

Her eyes were glued to someone on the ice. There was only one player oddly, and I didn’t hear the signal that the game was starting. The players’ back was to me, but I knew the number. It was Troy.