I decide to change the subject before Matt starts apologizing some more. “So how was morning skate?” I ask the guys, even though I’d already spoken to Matt earlier on my lunch break. But I love hearing any and all details relating to the team.
Hell, I love the team in general, and not just because nearly half of Matt’s teammates are now using Fetch’s services. I don’t know who got the ball rolling, but somehow over the past few weeks, our clientele list has grown to include Blake, Wesmie, Ben and Katie Hewitt, the team captain Luko and his wife Estrella, and several other Toronto players and their spouses.
Oh, and my ex-husband’s jaw nearly hit the floor when a request came in from none other than Coach Hal. Turns out Coach Hal and his wife have a sweet tooth that needed to be satisfied at four in the morning the other night. Jackson was on night duty, and when I came in the following morning, he spent fifteen minutes raving about how he personally delivered tiramisu to our city’s favorite coach.
I almost gloated and said, “See! Dating a hockey player is good for business, huh, Jax?” But I restrained myself, because Jackson and I agreed not to discuss our love lives.
“Morning skate was amazeballs,” Blake answers. “They got this new coffeemaker in the facility kitchen, and it’s fancy as shit. It spits out little cups of heaven. It’s like drinking a cloud.”
Jess furrows her brow. “I don’t think you can drink clouds.”
“And why would you want to?” Matt inquires.
“You haven’t tried this coffee,” Blake tells us. “Trust me. Cloud-like.”
“That didn’t answer my question,” I point out. “What does your fancy coffee have to do with morning skate?”
Matt rolls his eyes. “What does anything Riley says have to do with anything?”
“True,” I agree, and Jess snickers.
I lean closer to Matt, enjoying the warmth radiating from his sturdy chest. His arm is draped across the back of the booth, fingers loosely hanging over my shoulder. Sometimes it feels like we’re a real couple. I mean, we’re on a double date right now—isn’t double dating something only couples do?
“But yeah, morning skate was fine,” Matt says. “Except for O’Connor and Lemming’s little scuffle.”
I frown. Will O’Connor seems to engage in a lot of “scuffles.” “What now?”
Both Matt and Blake shrug. Jess, however, wears a frown that matches my own.
“I swear, that kid has a chip on his shoulder,” she remarks. “Why is he always causing trouble?”
“Probably because he hasn’t learned how to keep his pants zipped,” Matt says flatly.
“Wait.” Jess pauses. “You said he got into it with Lemming? Isn’t Chad, like, his only friend on the team?”
“Pretty much,” Blake confirms. “But like Matty-Cake said, OC’s got a zipper problemo. Or maybe a dick problemo—as in, the little bugger can’t stay behind the zip. I guess that’s okey-dokey when the dick doesn’t interfere with Lemur’s conquests, but supposedly last night it did.”
My head is spinning. Blake’s made-up Blake language is hard to understand on a good day, but when I’ve had a few sips of beer? It’s incomprehensible. From what I manage to glean, though, it sounds like O’Connor hit on his friend’s girl.
Jess reaches the same conclusion. “So Will hooked up with someone Chad was interested in?”
“Hard to hear what they were saying over the sounds of fists smashing faces, but yeah, I think that’s what happened,” Matt says with a sigh.
“Coach shit a brick,” Blake adds. “Sent them both home.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if neither of them are on the starting lineup tomorrow night.” Matt looks annoyed as he reaches for his beer.
Eek, I hope not. As troublesome as O’Connor is off the ice, he’s shaping up to be one of the best forwards on the team. The guy is lightning fast. And Lemming is one of our most solid defensemen.
Across the booth, Jess sees my expression and snorts. “Oh shit, guys, Hailey’s been replaced by the Hockey Fanatic. And the Hockey Fanatic does not like the idea of losing Will and Chad tomorrow.”
I glare at the smirking blonde. “Damn right I don’t! We need all our guys on the ice if we’re going to win the Cup!”
“Hear hear!” a random college-aged guy shouts from the next booth.
Err. I guess I said that louder than I intended. Oh boy. I’m turning into Blake.
With a deep chuckle that I feel all the way down to my toes, Matt leans in and brushes his lips over my cheek. “Don’t worry, babe, we can survive one game without the Duelling Dicks.”
Babe. I love it when he calls me babe.
I tip my head to meet his ice-gray eyes, and as usual, I get totally and completely lost in them. They have these gorgeous flecks of silver around the pupil, and, in some lighting, specks of baby-blue too. His eyes are as beautiful as the rest of him.
Fuck. I’m a goner for this man. Our relationship might not be “official,” but holy hell, I officially feel all the feelings for Matt Eriksson.
“Let’s order nachos,” Blake announces, reaching for the stack of menus in the center of the booth. “I’m thinking…eight orders?”
“Eight?” Jess squawks. “There’s only four of us here.”
“I’ll eat at least four,” Blake assures her. “You guys can battle it out for the rest. Oh!” He suddenly snaps his fingers. “Storm Chaser!”
I’m busy studying the menu, so it takes Matt clearing his throat to alert me. “I think he’s talking to you,” Matt murmurs.
Setting down the menu, I glance over at Blake. “I’m Storm Chaser now?”
He beams at me. “You could be. Do you like it better than Weather Lady?”
I think it over. “Sure, what the hell.”
“Perfecto. Anyway,” he continues, pointing one stern finger at me, “you got a TV?”
I’m flummoxed. Blake jumps topics so fast, it gets confusing. “Um…yes…?”
“Good. Make sure you watch Mornings with Matilda tomorrow. I think it’s on at eight?”
“Nine,” Jess supplies.
Blake jabs his finger in the air. “Nine. Right. Watch it, Storm Chaser.”
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Any reason why I need to watch a cheesy morning show?”
His dark eyes twinkle mischievously. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”
With an arched brow, I turn to Matt. “Spill.”
He holds up his hands. “Hey, I have no fucking idea what he’s babbling about. This is news to me—” Matt stops abruptly, and because we’re sitting so close to each other, I feel his pocket vibrating. He reaches in and pulls out his phone, then frowns. “Gotta take this,” he apologizes. As he raises the phone to his ear, his tone immediately takes on a stiff note. “Kara. What’s up?”
I stiffen too. And damn, I think Jess notices, because a flicker of sympathy flashes in her brown eyes. Okay, so maybe I’m not entirely comfortable with Matt’s ex-wife. Since our awkward run-in the morning after the CN Tower excursion, I’ve made a point to stay away whenever I know she’s due to pick up the girls. I don’t like the way Kara looks at me, as if I’ve committed some major offense for existing near her children.