"That was offside!!" You screamed from the owners box. "Offside!!!" You were in the same place you were at every Oilers game. Your father didn't technically own the team, but he was a vice-chairman and one of the most well respected men in the hockey world.
"Y/N." Your father called. "Why don't you take a deep breath and the the referees handle it."
You wrinkled your nose. "Yeah Dad, because you don't yell at the game either. Just let me yell if I want."
"Try to be a bit more inconspicuous." He suggested.
"Yeah, that'll happen." You snorted. You heard your dad sigh but he didn't say anything else. The two of you had an interesting relationship. You were born as your dad entered his late thirties and you were his little princess. He was super protective of you, but he let you be yourself and make your own mistakes.
You heard the phone in the box ring and your dad picked it up.
"I can't do an intermission one. My daughter and I are watching the game together." You heard a long sigh. "Yes, after the game ends is fine. I will wait outside the box."
"Interview?" You asked as the action on ice paused for a commercial break. "They just can't get enough of The Great One."
"Always. Are you okay with that?"
"Of course, Dad. I know what your job is and who you are. I don't mind. Besides, Connor and I are going out for a late dinner after the game."
"Ah yes. When are you going to let me meet him in the official capacity? We know each other...but when do I get to glare at him for being my daughter's boyfriend."
You rolled your eyes. "Soon, Dad. I'm going to tell him you're my dad tonight.It amazes me that he hasn't made the connection. He knows my last name is Gretzky...and when we met he asked if I was related to you."
"And you said??"
"I said that I'm sure I am somewhere in my family."
"Y/N...." Your dad trailed off.
"What?!" You asked innocently. "It wasn't a lie." He just raised his eyebrows at you before rolling his eyes. You stuck your tongue out in response before turning your attention back to the action on the ice.
The game ended an hour later and after kissing your dad on the cheek you headed down towards the player hallway. You leaned against the wall outside the entrance to the locker room and offered various greetings to the players and faculty who waved or otherwise greeted you. Everyone was in a great mood because of the win that had happened.
You looked up from your phone when you heard the door open again and smiled as Connor walked out. "Hi babe!" You greeted skipping over to press a kiss to his lips.
He smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist. "Hi. Did you enjoy the game?"
"You know I did. Where are we going to dinner?" You asked as he led you down towards the parking garage.
"I was thinking the 24 hour diner down the road from your apartment?"
"That sounds good to me! They have the best sweet tea!"
Connor laughed and opened his car door for you. Once you were both in and buckled he pulled out and headed for the diner that was about ten minutes away.
"You were great in the game. That goal in the third was....just plain dirty."
He laughed at you and interlocked your fingers. "I'm glad you were entertained."
"I was definitely entertained."
"Who did you watch with? The other girls?"
"Ummm....no." You watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"Well, then who did you sit with?" He asked.
"I mean...technically, I was standing most of the game. You know how I am. I like to yell and coach from the sideline."
"Y/N." He looked at you once you were parked in the diner's lot. "You're avoiding the question."
"Huh. How 'bout that. I am." You gave him a cheeky smile and then got out of the car. Before the door closed you heard him sigh and get out on his side. You walked in and sat down in a corner booth, but he didn't seem ready to let the topic go yet.
"So...you were telling me who you watched the game with?" He prodded.
"Actually," You corrected. "I believe I was avoiding the question." He just looked at you. "Fine. I watched it with my dad."
"There. Now was that so hard?" You stuck your tongue out at his tone. "When do I get to meet your dad? We've been dating for almost six months...you've met my family."
"I mean....." You said the rest in a rush that you knew he wouldn't be able to understand. Again, he just looked at you. So you repeated...this time in an understandable voice. "Technically, you've already met my dad."
"What? When?" He asked confused. "I think I would have remembered meeting your dad."
You gave a little snort of laughter. "I promise you that you remember meeting my dad. There's no way that you don't."
"Well, I'm drawing a blank. Maybe you'd like to elaborate a bit?"
You procrastinated by taking a long drink of your tea. "Babe...what's my name?"
"Y/N?"
"My full name, Connor."
"Y/N Y/M/N Gretzky. I don't get what that has to do with anything." You gave him a moment to process. He didn't appear to be making any progress.
"Connor, my last name is your giant hint."
He stared dumbfounded and then you saw it click. "You're not serious. Tell me you're not serious." You didn't respond. "Why didn't you ever tell me that Wayne Gretzky was your DAD?!"
"It didn't seem important." You answered simply.
"How is that not important? What's he going to say when he finds out? What is the media going to think??"
"He already knows. He's excited to meet you in the capacity of your girlfriend's father so he can glare at you like he thinks dads are supposed to when you date their daughters." You rolled your eyes. "And who cares when the media make the connection? What does it matter?"
"It matters, Y/N." He insisted.
"Why? You're dating me. Not him. Just an average girl who loves hockey...especially the Edmonton Oilers. A college girl who is two years away from getting her degree. You're not dating "The Great One"...you're just dating me."
"Why didn't you tell me before?"
You gave a shrug and looked away before eventually circling back to him. "I didn't want you to see me as his daughter. I wanted you to see me as me."
He gave you a blinding smile. "I do see you and I think you're perfect just the way you are...Gretzky or not."
"Thank you, Connor."
"Anything for you. Now why don't we arrange to have dinner with your dad this weekend? That way he can officially begin glaring at me."
You laughed and he joined in. "I think that sounds perfect.
