Page 62 of Love You Already

I roll my eyes at his ridiculous intro. “I'm Rose, and I'm here to learn about hockey to be able to cheer my husband on at his first game this season.”

“That's fabulous news! We love a WAG. That's wives and girlfriends for those who don't know.” He tosses a wink my way. “As you mentioned, you want to be ready for your first game. The good news is that we have plenty of time. The official season won't start until October. That gives us nearly two months to get your ready.”

“Wait, what?! His season doesn't even start till then? But he's gone... and he... it's just... ugh!” I throw my hands up as I drop to the couch.

Beckett gives up his charade to come sit beside me. “I'm sorry, sis. I thought you understood how it all worked. Or rather, at least this part. You're supposed to be here to learn the other stuff.”

“That's the thing, Beck. I don't know any of it. I know his number and the team he plays for. Everything else is gibberish to me.”

He pulls me to his side. “That's why I'm here. I'll help. It looks like we need to go even more basic than I thought. There’s no time to waste. Let's get started.”

We go over the season, both the start and end dates. He explains what the preseason is, along with why it's important. Then he goes over the Stanley Cup, which is like the big buckle of the hockey world.

“Does everyone want this big cup? And they have to go head-to-head multiple times to get it? Like the world series?” I ask when the pieces start to click.

“Yes! They are very similar in how they work. Ok, let’s break down the different conferences, and then we'll start watching videos of the actual game. I think if you watch Lachlan on the ice, you'll understand why he is one of the best and why Houston was lucky to get him.”

Beck explains that there are two conferences — Western and Eastern. Under the umbrella of those two, there are four divisions. He explains how in the regular season, teams play for wins and losses, with each outcome providing a set number of points. Those points determine who goes to the playoffs.

“Ok, this makes sense from what you’ve said. But it doesn't add up. There are empty spaces in the playoff bracket,” I tell him confidently.

He snaps his fingers. “Good catch! There are wild card spots for the top two teams in each conference. Then the playoffs start and usually the betting begins.”

“Can't say I'm surprised. What happens when we get down to the good stuff? How do we decide who wins the cup?”

“Well, that comes after the playoffs. The top teams from both conferences go head-to-head in a seven-game battle. It's a best-of-seven situation. The winner gets the cup.”

I lean back onto the couch, my mind blown at how intricate it is. “That's intense. And it's a lot of games.”

“Eighty-two total. It's split to where half are at home and half away.” Beckett nods as he turns on the video. “Let's watch your man in action.”

As the game begins, I get lost in the action. Lachlan's number moves quickly across the ice, his speed faster than a lot of the other men, while also being subtle. He doesn't fight, doesn't cause a ruckus. He's just there, playing his heart out.

I don't know if Beckett sense my fascination, or if he's caught up himself, but it's not until the first period ends that either of us speaks again.

“Woah,” I say reverently. “I didn't know it was like that. Lachlan didn't skate near that fast on the date we had.”

Beckett chuckles as he bumps my shoulder with his. “I don't think he was trying to crush you on the ice, sis. He was woo-ing you with his smooth moves.”

I snort as I steal the remote from him. “Whatever. Let's fast forward through the other stuff to get back to the goods.”

“Oh, boy. Do we have a hockey fan in our midst now?”

“I'm a Lachlan fan. Doesn't matter what he's doing, I want to watch.”

Beck laughs loudly as he snatches up another bowl of popcorn for us to eat. We've been through two bags and four hotdogs between the two of us since we started watching.

“I can't blame you for wanting to watch him. He is your husband after all.”

“That he is. And don't you forget it.” I shove a handful of buttery goodness in my mouth.

“Such a lady.”

“The finest of ladies. By the way, I need you to get me one of these jerseys. I'll need it for him game.”

He tugs on his. “We could special order you one. They have a place that does them that isn't too expensive, though that probably doesn't matter to you guys.”

“Huh? Why wouldn't money matter to me?”