“I just told him I don’t need him.” I point behind me to the window. “So I don’t have to go.”
“That was a mating dance if I ever saw one,” Clarabella declares. “He looked like he was going to fuck you against the door, with or without us looking out the window.”
“Mating dance?” I say, not sure I heard her right. “I was literally telling him how much I hated him.”
“That just gets it going even more.” Presley laughs. “I used to tell Bennett at least once a day how we weren’t a couple.”
“But everyone knew that you were,” Shelby remarks. “The only one you were fooling was yourself.”
“Ladies,” I say softly, “I am not going.”
“You have to,” Shelby says, and she is usually the voice of reason between the three of them.
“I don’t have anyone to go with,” I finally say, “and I’m not going to a hockey game by myself.”
Clarabella holds her finger in the air before walking over to the door. She sticks her head out of the door. “Addison,” she calls the new receptionist who started working here this week. With the expanding business, we needed to hire someone to do most of the paperwork and return phone calls.
Addison comes into the room and looks at all of us, the smile on her face falling. “Am I in trouble?” she asks as she tucks her blond hair behind her ear.
“No!” we all shout at the same time, and the frown turns back into a smile.
“That guy who was just in here?” Clarabella asks her.
“The hot one?” she asks, and all I can do is roll my eyes. He’s not that hot, and I don’t know why I’m bothered she thinks that.
“Yes, him,” Clarabella confirms, turning to me to smile as if she made her case.
“He’s not that hot.” I throw my hands up in the air.
“Now you’re fucking lying.” Shelby points at me. “Addison, what are you doing tonight?”
She looks at her and then me. “Probably some coloring and then maybe some Play-Doh, and if it’s really a crazy night—painting.” She smiles. Her daughter is four years old and she is a single mom, and from what she said, the father is not involved at all.
“Not tonight, you aren’t. You’re going to the hockey game,” Shelby tells her, and her eyes go big.
“Um,” she says, “thank you so much, but I don’t have any babysitters.” She twists her fingers in front of her. “And I don’t have the extra cash to hire someone.”
“I will take her,” Shelby says with a smile. “The girls have a great time when they are together.” Addison’s eyes go even bigger.
“I haven’t been out without her since she was born.” I put my head back, feeling like an asshole if I’m the one who ruins her one night out.
“This is insane,” I finally say out loud. “Are we just going to forget that he was engaged less than a week ago?”
“Let me ask you something,” Shelby says, and from her tone, I have a feeling she’s going to come at me with guns blazing.
“How was he during the wedding meetings?” She puts her hands on her hips.
“Oh, good one.” Clarabella claps, pointing at Shelby.
“He was like every other groom,” I lie through my teeth. Folding my arms over my chest, one look at them and they can see through me. “Okay, he was off a bit, but that is only because it was awkward that his ex was planning his wedding.” I look at her. “How do you think Ace would feel if you were planning his wedding?”
Clarabella just laughs. “She’d be burning that fucking church down.” She looks at Shelby. “Don’t even try to lie.”
“Not even going to try,” Shelby says. “Have you discussed with him what happened with the fiancée?”
“No,” I gasp. “Not one part of me wants to know about his relationship with his fiancée.” I look at them.
“Well, another reason to talk to him again,” Clarabella says.
“It’s over,” I tell them and I look at Presley, who is the most sensible at this moment, “with everything.”
“So we aren’t going to the game tonight?” Addison asks, and I just look over at her.
I take a deep breath, looking at the flowers and the tickets. “Just for the game.” I look over at everyone squealing, pointing over at the white box. “But I’m not wearing that fucking thing.”
matthew
The soft alarm bells wake me from my dream, right before I take Sofia. My eyes flicker open in the darkened room. I look around for a second, making sure it was a dream and not reality.
I reach over, and the covers are cold. “Just a dream,” I mumble, grabbing the phone from the bedside table and turning off the alarm before throwing the cover off myself and getting out of bed. When it’s a game day, I always get a two-hour nap in during the day. Usually, I have trouble falling asleep, but because I didn’t sleep well the night before, I crashed as soon as I put my head down. It could also be because I saw Sofia right before I went to bed, or it could be that I’m feeling in my skin for the first time in a long time. I can’t explain it, but I’ll be asking my father about it this weekend when he comes down.
Pressing the button to open the dark-out shades, I make my way to the walk-in closet. Half the closet is empty of course, since it’s so big. I turn and go to my suit rack, grabbing a blue suit. Taking the hanger off the rack, I place it on the island in the middle of the room that has drawers. Sliding the pants off the hanger and slipping into them, I turn to grab a white button-down shirt. Tucking it in, I button it all the way to the top, then open the top drawer and grab a dark-blue tie. I finish getting dressed, then I run my hands through my hair before walking out of the house and into my car.
I get to the rink and see the camera crew set up there to take pictures and videos of the guys arriving. I grab my phone and walk in, nodding to the crew before texting Sofia.
What time are you going to be here?
I don’t know if she is going to answer me. Fuck, I don’t even know if she is going to come. From the look on her face when she came out of her office before, I’m lucky I wasn’t struck down by lightning. Right before I put the phone down, I send her a picture of a flying pig.
I undress five seconds after arriving, which defeats the purpose of arriving in a suit, but rules are rules. I make a pit stop in the team kitchen, preparing a protein shake before I go into the gym and get on the bike. I start to pedal slowly, warming up my legs, and decide that I’m going to scroll Instagram. My fingers are already typing in her name. I see that she is private, and the little circle picture is of her with three other people, but I can’t see or zoom in. I press follow and send her a message.
Hi, friend.
I laugh at my joke, also knowing how mad she is going to get. I put the phone down as I watch the huge television screen in the room. I speed up my pace, pushing myself but not that hard. I slow my pace before getting up and joining some of the guys to warm up. When it’s time to go and suit up, I check Instagram to see if she accepted my follow, only to be shown that I have to request to follow her again. “Oh my God.” I chuckle. “She denied me.” I shake my head and go to the messages, seeing she saw the message and left me on unread.
My heart skips a beat because I know how good the chase is going to be, but better yet, I know how worth it it’s going to be when I make her mine. I put my phone down before undressing and getting into my gear. The music in the room is blaring as I close off my head, it’s time to work.