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?
“Let’s go here,” Delise said, stopping in front of a small Thai restaurant.
They went in and were seated at a small table near the front. They draped their jackets over the back of their chairs and Remi set her cell phone on the table and eyed it between studying the menu.
“Call him.”
“I have to give him time to get cleaned up,” Remi said. “I’ll call him later. After dinner.”
Her stomach tight, shoulders tense, she managed to eat half her pad Thai, but she barely tasted it. Focusing on conversation with Delise took her mind off Jason for a while, until they emerged from the restaurant onto the dark street and she remembered with a jolt all the blood and Jason being helped off the ice.
Delise drove her home. “I’m sure he’s fine,” she said. “Athletes are tough.”
Remi made a face and nodded as she got out of the car.
Jasmine sat in the living room watching television, wearing cotton pajamas, her long, blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail.
“Hey,” she said. “How was the game?”
“The Wolves lost,” Remi said absently, unwinding her scarf from around her neck. She glanced at Jasmine. Damn. Her puffy eyes and pink nose told her she’d been crying again. “Did you talk to Ethan?”
“Yes.” Jasmine sniffled. “He wants me to come back.”
“Oh.” Remi dropped into an armchair, slip-covered in creamy canvas to match the sofa even though they were ancient and from a different set. “And what did you say?”
“I told him I…I’d think about it.” She swiped the back of her hand across her nose. “I love him so much, Remi. I want to go back and try again.”
Remi held in her sigh. “Why do you keep going back to him, Jasmine?”
“Because I love him! He swears he wasn’t cheating on me.”
“And you believe him?”
“Yes.”
Remi leaned her head back and looked at the ceiling. “Well, then if you go back, you’ll trust him?”
Jasmine bit her lip and tears sparkled in the lamplight. “Maybe.”
“Maybe you should think about it before you decide to go back.”
“I am!”
Somehow Remi had the feeling that this conversation was not going to go well no matter what she said. She wished Jasmine would see that her relationship with Ethan wasn’t healthy, but she seemed blind to it and only got defensive if anyone tried to point that out to her.
The doorbell rang, interrupting her gloomy thoughts. She frowned.
Jasmine sat up straight and put her feet on the floor. “That must be Ethan.”
Remi rose and looked at her. “Do you want to see him?”
“Yes. No.” Jasmine scrubbed at her cheeks and smoothed her ponytail as Remi went to the door. “I don’t know.”