I was kidding earlier when I made the sleeping pill comment, but joke’s on me.
Normally when we play the Blizzards, my mind spins with what I need to do, the plays I’ll need to make, what I can do to make sure I stop them—but mostly Ryan—from scoring. The worry about being compared to my brother always increases by ten when our teams play.
Yet today, as my eyelids slide closed, sweet bubble gum filling my nose, the warm body of the woman I’m falling for snuggled in my arms, everything fades away and I drift off to sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I’ve been to a lot, and I mean a lot of hockey games in my life, but none of them have compared to what I experienced tonight.
Unlike the first time I came to watch Jase play—you know, when I wore his jersey—I didn’t watch this one from his seats. No, this time I watched from a suite with Jase’s family. I have the feeling they aren’t the sort to let a little thing like fire code get in the way of a good time because there were way more people in the suite than I’m sure is allowed, which is kind of ironic seeing as one of his friends is a fireman.
I also couldn’t believe the number of parents I was introduced to. Zoey has been teasing me mercilessly all night, but I also haven’t missed the knowing looks she’s cast in my direction.
Both my brother and I have managed to be very successful in our chosen careers, yet witnessing what it’s like to have not only involved parents but a complete support system makes me wonder what could have been if we had others cheering us on.
Forget cheering us on; I’d be happy with them responding to my messages. I don’t care how they choose to do so: phone call, text, email, snail mail, carrier pigeon—hell, I’d be okay with smoke signals at this point.
According to my message and call logs, it’s been a month since we had any two-way conversation.
“Aren’t you worried someone will snap a pic of you and Jase and post it?” Ella leans across our table to be heard over the noise inside The Sin Bin and to not be overheard by any nearby Covenettes.
Ella, Zoey, and I were part of the first wave to arrive at the bar, and Pops—or Freddie to everyone else—had reserved the entire back room for us.
“No way,” Zoey answers for me. “I mean look at her”—she flicks the brim of the Storm ball cap I’m wearing—“she has on her fancy-shmancy disguise.”
I swat her hand away and roll my eyes. Mock all she wants, but it’s effective enough. All the guys of BoP have them on. If it helps rock stars keep some anonymity, why can’t it work for me?
“Okay,” Becky says as she and Gemma drop down on the open bench next to Ella. It’s been nice getting to know the person responsible for all the delicious food I’ve had whenever I’m at Jase’s, but I have a feeling I might want to keep Becky away from Zoey. If those two team up, they will be doing the cell block tango.
“I apologize in advance,” Gemma says, her thoughts obviously mirroring my own.
“Don’t ruin my fun, Gem.” Becky pouts.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Gemma holds up her hands, the gesture coming off as sarcastic as her words.
“I’m going to pretend you actually mean that and focus on what’s important here.” Emerald eyes turn our way, and I feel Zoey perk up beside me. Lord help us. You can’t stop the beat.
“Beck, you realize you speak like you text, right?”
“What?” Becky’s brows pinch together.
“You can never just get to the point. I swear you drag things out just to torture us.” Gemma levels her with a look I myself have used on Zoey countless times.
They continue to banter, but the words themselves no longer register as my sole focus turns to the sexy-as-puck hockey player stalking in my direction.
My heart skips a beat, and like a spotlight shining, I’m hit with the startling realization that I love him.
This man I thought was a playboy and wouldn’t know what loyalty was if it bit him on the ass has turned out to be the exact opposite of everything I believed.
I need to channel my inner Maria, take a page out of the West Side Story script—but without all the death—and not care what anyone else thinks. Jase Donnelly is too good to let go.
“This is a cute look on you, Sweet Potato.” He taps the brim and angles his face under it to place a searing kiss on my lips.
“Hope you don’t mind I borrowed it.” I wipe a streak of lip gloss from the corner of his mouth.
“Not even a little bit. You look good in black and gray.” He winks and I melt, like always. “I like seeing you in my things, letting the whole world know you’re mine with my name on your back.”
“Does that mean the other thousand or so people rocking Donnelly Storm jerseys are yours too, Hemmy?” Jase drops his head with a groan at Becky’s taunt.
“Beck, why do you always start trouble?”
“It is my middle name,” she states proudly, and Zoey says, “Me too.” Now I’m the one groaning.
“It’s not, but it should be. It suits you better than Danielle, that’s for sure.”
“Look at you, remembering middle names.” Becky reaches out to pat his cheek patronizingly. “But to answer your question, Gem and I are here on a recruiting mission.”
“Balboa!” I jump at Jase’s sudden shout.
“What’s up, bestie?” Rocky asks after she and Gage make it to our table.
“Can you please remove your other best friend from the vicinity?” A muscular arm wraps around my back, but I feel him wince as I snuggle into his side. He took a nasty hit in the second period, and it must have left a bruise.
“Is she picking on you for the loss? You can’t win them all, Jase. Plus, it’s not our fault you play for the wrong team.”
“Funny, Rock, but no. She’s over here trying to add to your ranks. I’m pretty sure Becky approving membership to The Coven is one of the signs of the apocalypse.”
“I swear your picture should be next to the word exaggerator in the dictionary,” Rocky says but motions for Becky to get up.
“We could always ask Maddey to check to see if it is.” The unexpected comment from Gage has everyone laughing.
“My man.” Jase holds out a fist for him to bump. “We’re finally starting to rub off on you.”
“Oooh, now that’s a visual,” Zoey says, and I shoo her out of the booth as well.
“I sure hope you let your trainers check out those ribs earlier. You know I’m not afraid to make a call if I have to,” Rocky calls over her shoulder as she takes the troublemakers away.
It might not be the best decision to let Zoey and Becky go off together, but I prefer to enjoy the night with my boyfriend without having to fend off innuendos the whole time.
“Damn Coven,” Jase curses. If he was trying to hide the fact that he’s injured, he isn’t doing a good job of it. Plus, he’s told me multiple entertaining stories of how Rocky has caught all of them attempting to play off being hurt and failing at one point or another.
When he pulls me in again, I’m more conscious of hurting him and place a hand on his chest. He’s solid muscle, and I absentmindedly run a finger along the buttons of his pinstriped shirt.