“Or, worse yet, a stalker. Christ, just what he needed—a woman calling the police to say some stupid-ass hockey player followed her home. And just what the hell did he think he was going to say to her if he actually got out of the car and knocked on her door? Hey, I noticed you never miss a home game and always manage to be in your seat for the pregame warm-up. Wanna have sex? Yeah, he really was an idiot. A woman like that, she had a husband or, at the very least, a boyfriend. Still, ev...en though she usually came to the games with a man, sometimes the same man, it wasn’t usually the same guy two nights in a row. The men rotated, as if she had a wide group of friends and they shared the extra season ticket. He’d never seen her kiss or hug or hold hands with any of them—which just meant he spent way too much time watching the woman when he was supposed to be concentrating on warm-ups. During the game, he’d learned not to accidentally catch sight of her or he’d wind up checked into the boards.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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