You rolled your eyes as you were dragged into the huge hockey stadium. Your “eventful” Friday night events of lying in bed watching TV or reading a romance novel were discarded as “boring” and your friend claimed you could do them “any time.”

Hmph. Like he’d know.

I shivered as the skintight navy blue top did little to warm me, my joggers were my best source of warmth and I glared at Alex. “Really? You said it was warm.”

He turned around after he showed the ticket officials our tickets and grinned. “The atmosphere is warming.”

I rolled my eyes again, and silently cursed him. Not funny. I thought. We walked in and took our seats pretty close to the front. I hadn’t even thought about hockey since my older brother grew out of the phase.

We were pretty close to the glass and would have an amazing view of the players as they played. It was a Montreal Canadians vs Toronto Mapleleaves. Interesting name.. I thought.

Montreal Canadians were a dark navy blue and white kit, while the Toronto Mapleleaves were a red.

I looked like I was dully supporting the Montreals’. Which I was. Alex went to get a beer and a pretzel before the game. I insisted I didn’t want one and wrapped my arms around my freezing figure. Warm atmosphere my ass.

Suddenly the teams came out waving to the crowds and the screens zoomed in each on player. Quite attractive, I noted. Especially James Eaton. A dark haired player.