Violet and Sunny are arguing over what color eye shadow will look best on Poppy. Well, not arguing so much as holding up different color palettes and debating what will look more natural. Poppy doesn’t need to wear makeup at all, and neither does Sunny. They have those natural, flawless faces that look best with a hint of lip gloss and maybe a coat of mascara.

I don’t go crazy on the makeup, but pictures from the games often end up online, so I won’t go out with a naked face, either. While my relationship with Darren got a lot of press and questions when we first started dating—which was unnerving for a lot of reasons—it was difficult to really qualify it since physical contact in public has never been our thing. It kept everyone guessing as to what was going on.

If Darren pulls another PDA like he did this afternoon, that could change things again. So of course I want to look decent if my picture ends up splashed on hockey sites for the bunnies to rip apart.

At six we meet Alex and Violet’s parents in the hotel lobby and head to the arena. It’s a short walk, but it’s clear both Daisy and Skye have been drinking already—and possibly engaging in other activities that are legal in Canada.

The champagne has loosened me up a little, but I’m still nervous about the game. I root around in my purse for one of my mom’s candies. I’m grateful when I find several at the bottom. I pop one in my mouth and sigh as the minty flavor coats my tongue. I know it’s probably the placebo effect, but I immediately feel the tiniest bit better after a couple of sucks.

The stadium is full of blue and white jerseys, so we stick out like sore thumbs with our screaming red and black. Not that any of us gives a flying fuck. Violet figures Toronto would’ve picked Alex up—as a Canadian player—if they’d been on their game and realized what a formidable opponent he was going to be. Even with an injury he plays better than most, though he’s been a lot more cautious recently, and I see that now in a way I wouldn’t have before the conversation with Darren.

We have the kind of seats people want to shank you for. We file down our row, drinks in hand, and settle in while we wait for the teams to be announced. While the girls were in my room I’d almost forgotten about the discomfort between my thighs, but it’s back with a vengeance. Part of it comes from knowing I’m wearing those pretty panties with his name on the ass.

I reach into my purse for another one of my calming candies.

“Are you coming down with something?” Lily asks from my right.

“Huh?” I pop the candy into my mouth and try not to groan out loud as the minty taste coats my tongue for the second time in the past hour.

“Is that a cough drop?”

“No. Why? Do you need one? I might have some.” I don’t want to part with my mom’s candies.

“I’m good. It probably won’t taste great with my beer.” She clinks her can against mine, and we both take a sip.

Yeah, it’s not all that delicious when you combine mint and beer.

A few minutes later, the teams take the ice, first Toronto, then Chicago. The apprehension I’ve been holding on to all day drops from my stomach to settle lower, between my thighs, making the pervasive ache that much worse. It’s going to be a long game.

We all wave as the boys skate past, warming up before they take the bench. Violet’s knee is bouncing, and she chews on her thumbnail.

“You okay?” I ask.

She nods. “Just nervous. I want them to win.”

“Me, too.”

Alex and Darren have their heads together as they take the bench and wait for the ice to be cleaned, Darren’s hand on his shoulder. I lift my pearls to my lips as Darren glances in my direction.

He raises two fingers, the hint of a smile appearing as he taps his lips. I drop the pearls and mirror the movement.

The buzzer sounds, and his smile fades. He puts on his helmet and gloves and takes the ice. The first period isn’t great. Darren passes the puck instead of taking shots, and Alex can’t seem to get it past the net. Toronto steals the puck from Alex more than once, and by the end of the first period, Chicago is down one.

In the second period, Alex narrowly avoids getting slammed into the boards by Cockburn, the same guy who took him out last season and nearly cost him his career.

Darren puts himself in the way and takes the hit for Alex. He and Cockburn crash into the boards, the sound echoing through the arena.

“Fucking Cockburn!” Violet jumps out of her seat and starts yelling at the ref to call the dirty play.

Darren shakes it off, and Toronto takes a penalty, giving Chicago a two-minute power play. They switch out Alex for Randy, and he takes control when the puck drops, barreling down the ice toward the net with Darren on his right. At the last second, Randy passes to Darren who takes the shot, sliding the puck past the net, tying the game.

He doesn’t smile as his teammates pat his back, eyes on the scoreboard and the minutes counting down the second period.

“Holy shit.” Lily nudges my arm and points to the screens above us. Darren and Randy’s faces flashes across it. While Randy wears a cocky smirk in his picture, Darren’s eyes are dark, mouth almost set in a scowl. Their stats flash across the screen. Darren’s sitting just below Randy this season, which makes him an incredibly valuable player—the kind who is covetable despite his age.

It’s the reason he’s been passing when Alex has asked him not to. He hasn’t wanted all the points because of the draft. It all makes sense now.

The heavy feeling I’ve been carrying all day grows as the game continues. Randy scores a goal in the top of the third period, giving Chicago the lead, but Toronto ties it again halfway through. Alex and Darren are back on the ice together with three minutes left in the game. I can barely breathe when Alex gains control of the puck and skates down the ice toward the net, Darren parallel to him.

I cross my fingers as Alex makes the shot, but it goes wide. Darren catches the puck as it glides past the net and skates around behind it. It looks like he’s going to pass to Alex, but he takes the shot instead, scoring his second goal of the game.

Toronto fans give a collective groan as the Chicago fans go crazy. It’s a matter of keeping the puck away from the net while the final seconds tick down, securing Chicago’s place in the next round, bringing them that much closer to the finals again.

TV crews swarm the players once they’re off the ice. Darren looks uncomfortable with cameras on him, especially when they start talking about how his stats are the best of his career and then ask questions about the expansion draft and trade possibilities. Alex plasters on a smile when they turn the mic on him, but there’s tension in the set of his jaw. He’s unhappy with his performance.

“Guess I better get the Epsom salts ready. Tonight’s going to be hard on the beaver,” Violet says as we file out of the arena and pour onto the street, heading for the hotel.

We go directly to the bar, aware that it’ll be a while before the guys arrive. Daisy and Skye appear to be three sheets to the wind already, and they’ve ordered a round of shots. They’re having an inappropriate conversation—not unusual for those two—about their husbands and their sexual prowess.

Violet turns to Sunny. “That could be us one day.”

Sunny rubs her belly. “I wonder if this one will be another boy. I’m getting really big really fast this time.”

Violet leans her head on Sunny’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t it be great if we both had a boy or a girl at the same time? They’ll have so much fun together, and when they’re older we can have the kind of conversations our moms have and embarrass them.”

I watch their sisterly exchange and selfishly fear that this new bond they’re forming is going to usurp all the years of friendship between me and Violet. They’ll have so much more in common now that they’re both pregnant, and Sunny will be able to give Violet new-mom advice. They’ll have stories and experiences to share that I can’t be part of.

She’ll have new responsibilities. I’ve seen how motherhood has changed Sunny this past year, and I worry it will be the same for Violet. She’ll settle into her new role, and I’ll won’t fit into her life quite the way I did before.

Poppy pulls me out of my personal pity party when she hands me a drink.

Daisy and Skye’s conversation seems to have moved away from doing the dirty to hockey, which is a little better.

“Robbie used to play hockey in college. I loved going to the games.” Daisy sighs wistfully.

“I went out with a hockey player once,” Skye blurts.

“Really?” Daisy perks up.

Violet rolls her eyes.

“Mmm. In my first year of college I used to waitress at this little bar. It was near the stadium, so sometimes we’d get fans and players in there.” She waves a hand around in the air. “Anyway, this guy came in and sat in my section. He was a real hottie, and he played professional hockey—I think maybe for North Carolina? I can’t remember now, but he was charming, and one thing led to another.” Skye grimaces. “Sadly, he was terrible in the sack, and he had a tiny penis.”

“I love your mom,” I snicker.

“Wanna trade?” Violet grumbles. “Wait, it’s pretty much the same thing, so never mind.”