Coach turned and stormed out of the locker room, leaving the rest of us standing there in stunned silence. Someone—Luke Matthews, I thought—let loose a string of swearing that had me biting the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing. Yeah, it sucked, because any chance of practice ending on time had just been killed with the coach's words.
And so had my chance of hooking up with Addy later.
I stepped to the side and took a seat on the bench, pretending to fix my loose laces as everyone else filed out of the room. Dammit but this sucked. We'd planned on meeting in two hours to grab an early dinner at some oyster place. Yeah, it would have been dinner to-go if I had my way, and most of it would have ended up getting cold or going to waste because it wasn't really dinner I wanted.
It was dessert.
And now I wasn't even going to have that. Maybe, if I was lucky, Addy would wait for me. The way my luck had been going, I knew she wouldn't. At least, not for as long as it would take. I figured we had another sixty minutes minimum on the ice, then another thirty after that having our asses handed to us in the form of an inspiring lecture from the coaching staff. Not to mention however long it would take to get our stylish new gear.
Fuck.
Hooking up with Addy this evening wasn't going to happen. No way in hell would I make it out of here in time. And I had no way of calling her because we hadn't exchanged numbers—by mutual consent.
Sex.
Fun.
No commitments.
More sex.
Shit.
Maybe it was better that we missed tonight. We'd been with each other damn near every night since we'd first met and even I knew that was taking the whole one-night stand concept to an extreme that was maybe starting to border on obsession. So yeah, missing one night would probably be a good thing.
I finished tying the lace of my right skate, grabbed my stick, and pushed to my feet—and almost slammed into Dylan. I frowned and started to step around him but he stayed by my side, following me from the locker room.
"What do you think about those uniforms?"
"Nothing to think. They're a joke, just like everything else about this damn team."
"You don't like it much here, do you?"
I came to a stop and turned to him, not bothering to hide my disbelief—or my disgust. "Do you?"
"It's better than not playing at all."
"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that."
"So you'd rather be completely out? Not play anymore?"
I opened my mouth then snapped it shut before saying something stupid. As much as I hated the turn my life had taken the last year, I couldn't imagine giving up hockey. Couldn't imagine not hitting the ice. I'd been playing for too long and not playing wasn't an option. Not for me. Yeah, I'd fucked up. As much as I loved the game, I'd let my attitude get in the way and it cost me. Any chance I might have had at getting called up had died a swift death back in January, when I'd insisted on digging my own grave. I'd been released from the Bombers and landed here in New Orleans, the fledgling affiliate of the new expansion team.
The league had high hopes for the expansion team but the Bourdons...well, I'm still not sure what the hell had gone wrong there but I couldn't help feeling like the Bourdons' roster had been filled with the cast-offs and rejects from every other team. Maybe that thought was a product of my agent's quiet desperation coupled with his annoyance when I first balked at the offer—or maybe it was just me projecting my own inadequacies. More likely, it was a combination of both.
Nobody else wanted me. No other team would take me.
No wonder my attitude fucking sucked.
Gleason stood there, watching me with a curiosity I found annoying, waiting for an answer. I tightened my hand around the stick and finally shook my head. "No, I'd rather be playing. Even if it means being stuck down here."
"It's not all bad."
"Who are you trying to convince? Me—or you?"
He shrugged and I couldn't help but feeling that his nonchalance was forced. "Neither. Both. Doesn't really matter because it's really not that bad."
"Yeah. Sure."
He shrugged again and started down the short hallway leading to the ice then paused and looked over his shoulder. "A couple of us are going out later. Want to join us?"
I started to shake my head. To tell him no, that I already had plans. The truth was, I didn't. No way would Addy wait for me, not when I was going to be so late. And even if she did, maybe it would be better if we didn't hook up tonight. Maybe we needed a break. Hell, maybe I was the one who needed a break, to give myself some better perspective on the extended one-night stand we were having.
But hanging with Gleason? I wasn't sure if that was the perspective I really needed. He was a decent player but had a reputation as a troublemaker. No idea why because I hadn't heard any details but once you got a reputation like that, it stuck with you.
Then again, who the fuck was I to judge? I had my own reputation as a rule breaker—one that I did my damnedest to live up to, even now. Why the hell shouldn't I go out and have some fun? Maybe finally hanging out with some of my teammates would help with that whole cohesive thing we were missing.
I finally nodded, wondering if he sensed my lack of enthusiasm.
"Sure, why not? Not like I've got anything better to do."
Chapter Three
Addy
"I think you're being a little too eager."
"I'm not being eager."
"Whatever happened to playing hard to get?"
I leaned closer to the mirror before running some fresh color around my lips then caught Jacqui's gaze in the mirror and smiled. "That horse has already fled the barn."
"Then maybe it's time to reign it back in, Addy. You've been spending every free minute with this guy."
"Not every free minute." I broke eye contact with my best friend and focused on shoveling the pile of cosmetics back into the small bag I kept at work. Would she argue with me? Maybe. And she had every right to because her words were very close to the truth. Maybe I hadn't spent every free minute I had with Nathan but it was close. There was just something about him that I found irresistible, ever since the first night I ran into him, literally. Strong hands had closed around my arms to keep me from stumbling and when I looked up into those piercing blue eyes focused on me, I'd been lost.
Not lost as in love-at-first-sight—I didn't believe that nonsense—but lost as in drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. And while that never ended well for the moth, I was smart enough to keep my wits about me and not get burned.
Jacqui rolled her eyes then took a seat on the tattered lounge in the back room of the tiny shop. She crossed one long leg over the other, toed off one ridiculously high-heeled shoe, then absently rubbed her foot. "I just don't understand what you see in this guy, cher."
An undignified giggle bubbled up my throat and I tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow it back. Jacqui raised one artfully sculpted brow in my direction, silently daring me to say anything. Since this was Jacqui, I had no qualms with accepting the dare.
"It loses its effect when your accent comes through," I told her. And by accent, I meant her New York accent. Jacqui had moved here from the big city almost ten years ago to start a new life. She'd dyed her natural blonde hair black, adopted a whole new persona, then opened the boutique where I worked. I was pretty sure that new persona included a whole new name, plus a few other things, but she'd never said—and I never asked. To me, she was just Jacqui. Boss. Mentor. Best friend.