Barefoot Blue Jean Night

“Here’s your pass and your ticket. Just meet me back here after the game.” He handed me the pass and ticket, sliding closer to me, going in for a hug.

I furrowed my eyebrows. “You called me babe outside with tons of people, but you won’t kiss me inside where there is no one?”

He chuckled and then I shrieked in surprise when he dipped me and kissed me, long and hard.
“That better for ya, babe?”

I gave him another quick kiss and a pat on the ass.
“See you after the game. Love you.”

“Love you too, Lo.” He smiled widely and then turned to walk down the hall to the locker room.

I turned around and followed the hallway back to the main door. I felt nervous walking through the door, more nervous about the people on the other side and what they would think. I was walking through a ‘personnel only’ door, after all.

Glancing around, no one seemed to notice. I made my way over to the concession stand and grabbed a beer and a little bag of skittles. They were my weakness.

Following the painted numbers on the doorways, I found my section. The usher was a teenager, probably around Tyler’s age. His eyes widened when I showed him my ticket.
He grinned and proceeded to point out my seat for me. Finding my seat was not difficult, but I did swear up and down to myself that I would hit Tyler for the seat I was sitting in.

A quick glance around, I could tell I was in the WAG section. The amount of women and children, people that looked like some of the players’ family, and also the blond whores. There was no denying who or what they were there for. My seat was also first row from the ice, dead center to the Bruins’ bench.

I slipped the pass around my neck, and sucked back a good portion of the cup of beer I had. I was going to need it. Besides, I didn’t quite understand hockey and all of it’s rules and regulations. I would need to get through the game somehow. Although, from the pictures Tyler had showed me and from my research on Google, I was looking forward to the men. The tall (some very tall), dark, and athletic men.

I could feel the eyes of someone. I looked around to see a blond woman about my age, looking at me. She smiled and waved. Not quite sure what to do, I smiled and waved in return.

The seat beside me was empty, so in a moment of poor judgment I waved her over to come and sit with me. The second she smiled and nodded, I mentally slapped myself for the action.

“Hi, I’m Tammy.” She offered.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Lauren, but everyone calls me Lo.” We shook hands.

We sat there for a moment before I could tell that she had seen the pass around my neck.

“So, are you here with one of the guys?” She pointed to pass. Guess she wasn’t going for subtlety.
Do I tell her? Was she one of the puck bunny girls Tyler always referred to?

“Umm, yeah. I’m here with Tyler Seguin. I’m his girlfriend.” I smile shyly.

She makes a face that I can’t decipher. “I don’t mean to be rude, but aren’t you, how do I say this nicely?”

“Too old for him? You can say it. Tyler and I don’t really care all that much. I mean, I used to but, now we’re over it.”

She smiled. “That’s nice to hear. What is the age difference anyway?”

It was nice talking to her, but did I really want to share all of this information with her when all I knew was her name. I must have made a face, because she started laughing.

“Oh my God, excuse me for being rude. You probably think I’m some random woman wanting to get into the locker room.” she patted my arm.

“Yes.” I laughed.

“I’m Tammy Horton, Nathan Horton’s wife.” She smiled and we shook hands again.

“Well, everything makes sense now. And to answer your question, there is 6 years difference between us. Ty is 19 and I’m 25.”

“Does it ever get weird between you and Tyler because of the age difference?” She asked timidly.

“Tyler is a lot more mature than he seems. I’m sure you see the teenager side of him around the guys, but sometimes I swear I’m dating a 30 year old guy.” We both laughed.
“Don’t get me wrong, though, because in the athletic department, if you know what I mean, he is definitely not 30. The boy can go for days.”

We both threw our heads back in laughter.

Notes