He told her, “I want to watch you eat it.”

The pink stuff was sticky and melted on her fingers and tongue and he really did seem to enjoy watching her. And she enjoyed him enjoying it.

He bought himself a water and her a Coke Zero-with lemon.

“Where did you get the lemon?”

He shrugged. “I raided the Long John Silver’s stand.” The little gesture almost made her cry and she chided herself and drank her lemony Coke through a straw, giving herself another mental lecture about their non-date status.

When the Red Wings scored the first goal, Rachel stood up and danced in the aisle and the cameraman found her and put her on the big screen in her Red Wings jersey. By the second period, she had screamed herself hoarse and the score was tied three-to-three. When the Wings scored the winning goal-in overtime-Rachel jumped up and hugged Jake, who was pumping his fist in the air and yelling as loudly as she was. Then he pointed up, grinning. They were on the big screen again-probably the only two Red Wings fans in the whole place. The rest of the crowd was grumbling, if not outright booing the Blackhawks’ loss.

“Bet me we’re on the news tonight. Emma’s gonna be psyched.” Jake had called their driver and had him meet them up front. It was a madhouse trying to get out of there, people pressed together like cattle being herded to slaughter, and Jake held fast to her hand so they wouldn’t get separated. She liked feeling him against her, solid as a wall, when they stopped.

“You mean…we’ll be on TV?” The idea might have thrilled Jake’s sixteen-year-old daughter, but the thought made Rachel go cold.

“Sure, the game was televised.”

She paled. “I hope your wife doesn’t watch hockey.”

“Nina watches the home shopping network and the Lifetime channel.”

“But does she watch the news?”

He gave her a steady look. “Who cares if she does?”