“Two things. First, I need you to contact every reporter at tonight’s game and convince them to keep any photos of me out of the press.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Second, I need you to add me to Miss Rutherford’s room.”
“Why?”
“Because I need her room key.”
“Give me two minutes,” Gordy replies. Tap-tap-tap. “Make it one.”
“Perfect.”
I hang up the phone and head to the hotel. She has to come back to her room at some point. When she does, I’ll be waiting.
No more running, Mia.
Not from me.
44
MIA
The lights are flashing in the middle of the bar as Ash and I take our drinks from the black lacquered counter. “Thank you,” I yell to the bartender above the music. She nods at me and turns to the next customer, dismissing us.
“And thank you for making this a girls’ night,” I add to Ashlyn and Blake. “I really didn’t feel like being the fifth wheel tonight.”
“You know we love you,” Ash starts.
“And we get it,” Blake adds, “But you didn’t have to be the fifth wheel.”
Ash grins. “You could’ve always invited Henry––”
“Henry and I are over,” I snap, tossing back half my beer in hopes of it numbing my regret.
“Oh, you are?” Blake pulls out a metal stool from an empty table. “No offense, but it didn’t look like it during the first-period break.”
“You saw?” I grab the chair next to hers and sit down.
Ashlyn takes one across from me and admits, “Maybe?” Chewing on the edge of her straw, Ashlyn has the decency to look sheepish as she explains, “But only because we could see how much Shorty was making you uncomfortable, so we were keeping a close eye on you.”
Blake shakes her head. “I still can’t believe the asshole had the audacity to talk to you like that.”
“Me neither,” I mutter into my cup.
“Seriously. He’s an ass,” Ash agrees. “But at least he played like shit during the rest of the game.”
I nearly snort into my cup at the memory of Shorty slamming his stick against the ice and screaming at the top of his lungs. Yeah, he was definitely fuming by the end of the night. He could barely see straight, let alone play his role correctly, even though he took every opportunity to call me a bitch anytime he was close. Too bad for him, it was nothing I haven’t heard many times over. But it definitely didn’t hurt to watch Theo and Colt making him look like an absolute ass on the ice.
It was refreshing.
And a little vindicating.
Fuck you, Shorty.
“Not gonna lie. Watching Theo and Colt play well against him was hot as hell,” Ash agrees.
“Hey, that’s my brother, remember?” Blake quips.
“And he looked hot as hell during tonight’s game,” Ash repeats with a grin.
Blake chuckles into her glass but drops it before taking a sip of her drink as the bass thumps in the background.
“Don’t worry, ladies. I got the whole thing on camera,” I tell them. “I’ll be sure to send you copies of the game when I get back to the hotel.”
“Oooo, thank you,” Ash says when my phone buzzes with a text.
Unknown Number
Say you need to use the restroom.
My eyebrows draw together as I read the message a second time. Scanning the bar, I see Shorty near the back with his arms folded and a phone clutched in his hand. But the look in his eyes? The absolute rage?
This is bad.
“Everything okay?” Ashlyn asks.
I end my staring contest with Shorty and force a smile. “Yeah, it’s fine. So, what’s it like playing mom nowadays?”
The bar lights bounce off Ashlyn’s face as she grins even wider. “It’s actually really fun.”
My phone buzzes again, and against my better judgment, I read the message.
Unknown Number
We can talk in private, or I can make a scene in front of your friends. Your decision.
You have fifteen seconds.
“Mia?” Ash questions.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat and shift on the stool, slipping my phone back into my pocket. “Shorty texted me and wants to talk for a second.”
“You told him to go to hell, right?” Blakely demands.
“Not yet.”
“Mia,” Ashlyn warns.
I roll my eyes. “Let me finish.”
“No,” Ash pushes. “Shorty doesn’t deserve another second of your time.”
“Ashlyn’s right,” Blake agrees.
“I know,” I reply with a laugh. “Don’t get me wrong. I love how overprotective you both are, but I also know Shorty, and he isn’t going to leave us alone until I let him call me a whore so he can go screw a random puck bunny.” I toss the rest of my drink back and set the empty glass on the table. “So we have two choices. Either I let him yell at me for five minutes, and when he’s done, we can go about our night. Or we leave now and hang out at the hotel, letting him kind of ruin our girls’ night out. Thoughts?”
Without hesitation, Ashlyn grabs her purse from the table and stands up. “Hotel. Definitely.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin our night.”
“Times up, Mia,” Shorty growls from behind me.
The hair along the back of my neck raises as I turn in my seat to face him.
“Come on, Mia. Let’s go,” Ashlyn prods.
I glance at her and turn back to the massive hockey player. “Sorry, Shorty. We were just leaving.”
He grabs my arm roughly, tugging me out of my chair and closer to him. “You think I’m afraid to make a scene in front of your friends, Mia?”
“I think you’re drunk and have no idea exactly how much this is going to bite you in the ass if you keep touching me like this.” My eyes fall to his punishing grasp and snap back to his surly face. “We are in public, Shorty. You’re not gonna hurt me in public.”
“You’re right,” he agrees, but he doesn’t let me go. “I won’t hurt you. I only want to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
He leans even closer. The stench of beer lingers on his breath and makes my nose wrinkle. “Follow me outside right now, and I’ll leave your friends alone. Or don’t. See what happens. Your choice.”
“Are you threatening my friends?” I ask.
Keeping his voice low, he grumbles, “Just calling it like it is.”
“You’re lucky I’m not interested in causing a scene, or I’d knee you in the balls right here.”
“I’m not either, or you’d already be over my shoulder.” His grip tightens. “I only want to talk.”
My eyes fall on Ashlyn. Her phone is out, and she’s texting someone. Relief floods my veins.
Good. We’ll have backup soon.
“You coming, Mia?” Shorty prods.