Cal Foreman than she thought?
She returned her attention to the screen. Cal was moving down the right line with that loose-limbed skating motion she envied. Waiting, waiting, wait—there it was, the puck on his blade and fire under his skates. No more loose, now all-in intensity, his mission the blue zone. A pass back to Levi Hunt at center, a tap back as they got closer and bing-bada-bing, into the net!
“That’s how it’s done!” Mia laughed and turned to Cassie. “I like how he plays as well.”
Even when she was mad as all hell at him.
Mia skated to the bench, accepting the gloved high fives of her teammates as they finished up the final scrimmage of the weekend.
Cassie hugged her hard. “Wallace, you were a killer out there. Fucking killer!”
Coach Lindholf grinned. “She was but tone down the language. We have kids in the audience.”
“Right, coach.” Cassie winked at her. “Come on, they have an autograph thing and then we can go get trashed. If that’s okay, Coach.”
“First round’s on me, O’Brien, after you’ve met your adoring public.”
“Woot!”
Cassie and Mia headed back to the locker room and changed into sweats but kept their jerseys on. Meeting with fans for autographs was part of the weekend and something that happened after the current pro games in the WHL. Mia loved the idea of mingling with youngsters who might be following in their footsteps. They headed out to the lobby area where the tables were set up and spent a good hour meeting fans, signing programs, and taking photos.
Near the end of the allotted time, a big tanned hand put a program down. “Could you sign it for my niece?”
That voice. Her heart. Mia looked up to see Cal Foreman grinning at her. He was here. Had he just arrived or—oh my God, he was here! He wore a thick, gray, marled sweater that pushed his sex quotient to about five hundred and seventy on a scale of one hundred.
She aimed for an aloofness she didn’t naturally possess. “Your niece?”
“Yeah, she’s big fan. Not much of a sports guy myself, so I thought I’d grab this for her. Get in her good books.”
Mia rolled in her lips, which was better than rolling her eyes, she supposed. “Why isn’t she here?”
“She lives in Canada. She can’t be seen to be supporting the enemy, y’know, but she’s a fan. Huge fan. Just put, ‘Keep on keepin’ on, Cal,’ or something like that. Whatever you think works.”
Foreman, Foreman, you are killing me in your sexy fall sweater. “Your niece’s name is Cal? What’s that short for?”
“Calliope. Named after one of the Greek muses. Something to do with eloquence and poetry.” He caught sight of Cassie with her mouth open and shot her a wink with extra cheese. “Hey, how’m I doin’?”
Cassie turned to Mia, completely flabbergasted. “Know him some, huh?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” Mia signed the program and handed it back to him.
Cal took one look and burst out laughing. Such a deep, resonant sound that went right to her core. Stupid laugh. Stupid core.
“You played well out there,” he said. “You, too.” He nodded at Cassie.
Mia swallowed the lump in her throat. “You watched the scrimmage.”
“Hell, yeah. It’s open to the public and I am your public.”
She didn’t know why, but that sounded intimate. Maybe it was the look on his face, that special smile she felt was reserved especially for her, that twinkle in his eyes that seemed to be sending her a message. I’m here for you.
“But wait, you have a game? Tomorrow! In Boston!” She jumped to her feet and pushed at his chest hard enough to have him take a step back. “How did you get here? Do they know you’ve gone?”
“Yes, by car, and yes. Well, maybe on the last one. I mentioned it to a couple of the guys in case anyone was curious about my whereabouts. You know, if you bash me to death with a hockey stick and people are wondering why I didn’t show up before the puck drops tomorrow.”
He drove from Boston the day before an important game to watch her tryout. Who did that? Well, Vadim would have if she’d made a fuss. Isobel, too, but she was so busy that Mia didn’t want to bother her.
Cal knew. Sometimes it felt like he was the only person who knew what was going on in her head.
Coach Lindhoff appeared and did a double-take on seeing Cal. “Foreman? Do my eyes deceive me?”
“Nope, Coach. Good to see