“It’s really nice that they’re both here. Are you all still close?”
“I guess so.” Ash shrugs and finally glances down at the ice as the game is about to restart. “He got remarried quickly, so it was weird at first. But then when Harper and Hunter came along, things seemed to be okay. Different, obviously, but I think it forced us all to get over it faster or something.”
“Bridge!” Ev calls my name, snapping me out of the moment.
I look up to see my roommates waving me over to join them.
“I should probably…” I tip my head in that direction but don’t move just yet.
“Yeah. Me too. Gotta make sure everyone has a good time. Hunter’s the hardest sell. He told me earlier that hockey was dumb. Think he’d be more impressed by a visit from Wenzel the Wildcat or signed merch? Probably Wenzel, huh?”
“Go with merch. I mean, a high five from the team mascot is cool, but something signed by Ash Kelly, that’s far rarer. Well, unless you’re a girl in the crowd before a game.”
His lips pull apart, flashing his teeth and a panty-melting smile. “I’ll have you know, I’d never done that before.”
“No?” I ask, my tone full of sarcasm. “I don’t think I believe you.”
“It’s true,” he insists. His blue eyes lose all playfulness. A serious, almost pleading expression takes over his handsome face. Hello, Mr. Kelly. I feel that look everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. “Sure, I’ve signed all kinds of things for fans—women included, but I have never used it as a tactic to ask out someone. I can’t explain it. I don’t even remember deciding to approach you. Then all of a sudden, there I was without a plan or any clue what to say next.”
“I think what you said was ‘Wanna puck?’”
He rubs the back of his neck with one hand. “Yeah, not my best opening line.”
“Do you have good opening lines? Because that’s not the word on the street.”
“I don’t regret it. Even if you thought I was the biggest chump to ever hit on you, it was worth it.” He bumps my shoulder again. I really like when he does that. “Here we are.”
Here we are indeed.
Ash’s family leaves before the game is over. First his dad and stepmom with a snoozing Hunter and heavy-lidded Harper in tow. Then his mom and aunts say their goodbyes. His sisters are the last to go a few minutes before the end of the third period.
The Wildcats are up by four goals, but Everly is still glued to the action like it’s a nail-biter of a game. There’ll be no getting her out of here early.
When the final buzzer sounds, the four of us stand. We thank Ash again for letting us hang out and watch the game with his family, which he waves off.
Everly and Grace are chatting with Ash about his weekend plans, and I excuse myself to go to the bathroom. It’s down the hall just a few feet from the private area where we’ve been watching the game.
Tonight was fun. And even though it was a little awkward at first, I’m glad that I saw Ash. We’re bound to run into each other from time to time and I don’t want it to be weird. Although weird might be preferable because it’s difficult to be around him and not wonder what could happen if I let my guard down for him.
On my way out, I spot Ash leaning against the wall. When he sees me, he pushes off the wall.
“Hey,” he says. “I wanted to catch you before you left. I’m glad you came. It was good to see you.”
“Thanks. I’m glad I did too.” Strangely, as the night went on, I relaxed. I did it. I saw Ash, which was inevitable living with Everly, and I survived. We even talked. It was fine. No big deal.
He lifts the jersey in his right hand, then uses the other to unfold it and show me the back. It’s just like the one Harper and Hunter were wearing, except this one is signed in the middle of the giant three. “I didn’t want you to leave empty-handed.”
“Thanks,” I say, oddly touched by the gesture and most certainly blushing.
He leans closer and asks, “Better than a high five from Wenzel?”
“Yes. Much better.” My heart feels like it’s in my throat. “But then again, I think mascots are a little creepy, so the bar is low.”
He chuckles. “Good to know.”
I pull it on over my head. “How’s it look?”
His scan is slow and appreciative, and even though he doesn’t answer, I get that he likes it very much. I do too. I swear it smells like him, which is probably my imagination.
My lips curve up and my heart patters along happily. “Are Everly and Grace still…”
“Yeah. They’re waiting for you.”
“Thank you for everything. It was really good to see you, Ash.”
He dips his head in a parting nod.
I take a step when someone calls my name. My smile slips, but it’s several seconds before I fully place the voice calling my name.
“Bridget?” he asks again.
I turn with a mixture of anxiety and fear. Gabe’s dark brows are raised in surprise. His black hair is gelled to perfection and his suit tailored for his tall and wide frame. He takes me in, gaze lingering on the jersey I’m wearing and then flicking up to Ash, who’s moved to stand beside me.
“I thought that was you,” he says. “I was going to ask what you’re doing here, but I think that’s pretty obvious. He’s why you’re too busy to take my calls?”
I blocked him and stopped sharing my location after I saw him last, but instead of correcting his assumption that I’m here with Ash, I ask the only question banging around in my head. “What are you doing here?”
“I tried to tell you. Now that I know you’re fucking him, I’m glad I didn’t ruin the surprise.” He looks at Ash, way too pleased with himself, and dread washes over me.
Ash curses under his breath.
“Do you want to tell her, Kelly, or should I?”
A moment passes where Ash does nothing but keep his stony expression aimed forward at Gabe.
“You’re looking at the new assistant GM.” He puffs out his chest and his slimy smile widens.
“Wait, what? You got a job here? With the Wildcats?” I look from Gabe to Ash. The latter’s expression confirms my questions.
“So, you’ve heard?” Gabe asks Ash.
Ash looks at me apologetically. “I saw him earlier, but I didn’t piece it together until now.”
Gabe takes another step forward and I tense. Ash moves farther in front of me.
That stops Gabe, but he huffs an amused laugh. “It’s best if you stay out of my way, Kelly, and keep away from things that belong to me.”
Belong to him? Surely he doesn’t mean me. Because hell no. I’m not property. Certainly not his.