My Lucky #13 (Hockey Hotties)

by Piper Rayne

Brielle smiles and nods.

  “So is that your drink?” Aiden asks.

  “Answer my question first.”

  He stops twirling his beer bottle around. “Trade deadlines are at the end of February. Rumor is if I don’t pick up my game, I’ll be traded to another team.”

  “Just because you’re in a slump—as you say,” I’m quick to add.

  He picks up his head and smiles at me as if I’m some innocent little girl who amuses him. “You don’t perform, they don’t want you. It’s as easy as that.”

  I can tell he’s hurt by the possibility.

  I reach my hand out but retract it before I touch him. “I’m sorry. That sucks.”

  “Exactly why I need you to throw a drink in my face before every game.” He looks at me with a hopeful expression.

  “There’s no possible way that’s the reason your game turned around. It’s ridiculous.”

  “But it’s the only thing out of the ordinary. And… we did it again and it worked.”

  “Can I think about it?” I ask. “I mean, how would it even work with out-of-town games?”

  “I’d be paying a shit-load to get you flights and hotel rooms, and for the rest of this season, you’d get to travel free.”

  “I couldn’t allow you to do that.”

  “Why? I’m gaining the benefit.” He sips his beer as Brielle brings me my drink.

  “Thanks,” I tell her, and she smiles. “When is your next game?” I ask Aiden, thinking I’ll have a few days to consider it.

  “Day after next, then I’m on the road for five days.”

  “Aiden, I have a job.”

  “A job you can do from anywhere, right?”

  I sip my drink and stare at the lime twirling in the ice cubes. It’s a hard decision because even though I don’t believe it, I know he truly does think the drink in the face is helping him perform. Plus, I’m not stupid. I know what’ll happen when he doesn’t need me anymore. I’ll be cast aside like I was with Jeremy. And Maverick for that matter. Even if Aiden and I aren’t an item, the way my heart races in Aiden’s presence tells me I’ll be heartbroken again.

  “I think I’m going to get going.” I open my purse, but Aiden gets his wallet out first and throws a few twenties on the table.

  “Let’s go.” He stands and puts his hands in his slacks pockets.

  It’s so unfair that a man can look that good in a suit. So unfair that I can’t let myself indulge in said man. “You don’t have to take me home.”

  “Joran asked, and I agreed. Plus, I wasn’t about to let you go home by yourself. I mean…” The color in his cheeks deepen and I smile at how shy he comes across sometimes.

  “I know what you meant. Thank you.”

  We walk out of Carmelo’s and he pulls out his phone to grab an Uber. “I’d drive, but if I get pulled over smelling like wine, it won’t be good.”

  Ten minutes later, the Uber arrives, and we slide into the back of a sedan. His body is so large, takes up so much space, that I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like over mine.

  Damn it, I need to remember my mantra about professional athletes. You’d think I would’ve learned that lesson already.

  Chapter Seven

  Aiden

  I’ve tried to give Saige until the very last second, but I’m on the way to the game now, and if she doesn’t throw a drink in my face before I take the ice, I’m screwed.

  My phone rings as I drive toward her office with the hope that she’s still there.

  “What’s up, Maksim?” I ask.

  “I just left your girl’s office.”

  “She’s not my girl,” I say, checking my blind spot before changing lanes.

  “She’s not Joran’s either. You know that, right?”

  “The reason for your call?”

  “Did you hear what happened?” he asks, as though he has a piece of juicy gossip the paparazzi would be eavesdropping to overhear.

  “What?”

  “Maverick Sanders isn’t using her anymore.”

  “I didn’t even know he was.” I haven’t looked into Saige’s business—mostly because I don’t care one iota about social media. I think it’s great if she enjoys it, but I have no reason to see what her business is all about.

  “He’s her main guy. The one who is pictured everywhere. Spokesperson for her entire company. I guess he was her first client or something.”

  “And he quit using her?” I frown.

  Maksim laughs. “Get a hold of this.” He’s silent for a second. “This was on his Instagram this morning. It’s a picture of Maverick and his fiancée in bed with a tray of fruit and bagels with a caption that says, ‘Lazy Friday mornings with my girl.’”

  “I don’t see the big deal with that.” I slow as I approach a red light.

  “The problem is you see more of her than him, and having girls on your social media is a no-no. Everyone knows female fans don’t want to be reminded that you’re living happily ever after with someone else.”

  “Maybe, but it shouldn’t be a big deal. She’s a part of his life. His real life, not the persona people put on for social media.” I’m happy to pass the time talking to Maksim, if only so I don’t have to stress about what I’m gonna do if she’s no longer at her office.

  “They need to think you’re unattainable. Come on, Shamrock, use your head.”

  I guess I see his point.

  “Anyway, I just thought maybe you’d want to know since last I checked, you hadn’t had a drink thrown in your face yet.”

  “What, are you keeping tabs on me?”

  He laughs. “You’re my guy.”

  “Bullshit.” I make a left turn then change lanes.

  “Okay, okay, you are my guy, but I wanted to make sure she wasn’t mad at you for your Neanderthal move the other night.”

  “I can make up for my mistakes and idiocy on my own, but thank you.” I turn into the parking lot where her office is.

  “Well, now you have some leverage.”

  I think for a moment. Maksim is right. If her biggest client left, she’s probably desperate to replace him. Not to be an arrogant ass, but I’d be a good replacement. Then again, I don’t want to subject myself to the bullshit on social media.

  “Why don’t you be her main guy?” I park in a spot and wonder which car is hers.

  “Because I’m not Aiden Drake and because I don’t need anything from her. You can’t expect her to give up her life and follow your schedule for nothing. Come on, use your head.”

  I do not need this speech from Maksim. “Thanks. I can handle this.”

  “See you at the arena, and you better have white wine all over that pretty face of yours.”

  I hang up without saying goodbye and stare at the building. I’m out of my fucking mind to entertain his suggestion. I could go to the game tonight and take my chances that my game will be fine. She’s dating Joran and my feelings for her aren’t platonic. I’m only asking for trouble. Not that I want to marry her or anything, but I’m definitely not about developing a friendship with her, if you catch my drift.

  Yeah, I don’t need to jeopardize my career even more by fucking up my relationship with my agent.

  I leave the parking lot, driving straight to the Fury stadium. There’s no way my career can really rest in the hands of a gorgeous blonde’s ability to throw a drink in my face.

  My teammates all eye me when I enter the locker room, but I’m not in the mood to be their entertainment. I’m sure they all want to make sure that I got wine thrown in my face today. I take off my jacket, hang it up, and sit on the bench in front of my locker, loosening my tie.

  “So?” Maksim sits next to me wearing nothing more than his jockstrap.

  “Don’t worry about it.” I unbutton my dress shirt.

  He runs his hand over the front of my shirt. “It’s not soaked. I don’t like this.”

  “Maybe I changed.” I shrug.

  “Maybe you’re lying. I don’t understand
why you’d be so stubborn to not make the deal. I gave you the golden ticket.”

  “Because it means being on social media again.” My mind drifts back to the incident, but I quickly steer my thoughts away. I don’t want that on my mind when I step out onto the ice tonight.

  His big hand lands on my shoulder and a deep look of sympathy leaks from his blue eyes. “That’s in the past. Things are good now, right?”

  “Right now, but who knows what could happen if I open all my accounts back up?”

  I have no time to even think about it, because Joran busts into the locker room as if he’s the head coach. “Gentlemen, have a killer game tonight.”

  Maksim stands and continues to get dressed, at least covering himself up.

  When Joran comes over to me, I ask, “What are you doing in here?”

  “I’m here because when I went to pick up Saige for our date, she said she had somewhere else to be.” His stance widens and he shoves his hands in his pockets, looking at me. “Then she asked me if I could get her in to see you before the game. Care to explain?”

  I stare at him. “Didn’t she tell you?”

  “She said it’s about the superstition thing we started talking about after the last game.”

  Maksim hums beside me while Ford turns up the volume on his speaker. I stand and tug Joran out into the hallway away from everyone, but I stop short when I find Saige leaning against the opposite wall, looking gorgeous.

  She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a jacket over it. Her blonde hair is down in waves, and her lip gloss highlights her delectable lips. Fuck me, I swear I just went half chub.

  She pulls a small bottle of wine from her purse and dangles it in the air. “Did you forget?”

  “I’m starting to feel out of the loop here, guys.” Joran pulls me out of our bubble.

  “That’s the superstition—she throws wine at my face. She did it on New Year’s Eve, before I knew you two were…” I don’t finish the sentence because I can’t for the life of me get myself to say the words. It’s hard to admit that I lost out on the one girl who’s made me feel something in years.

  “Shut up?” Joran laughs dramatically, bending forward and clapping. “You hit on my date?”

  A few trainers walk down the hallway, fist-bumping me and staring at the spectacle named Joran.

  “That’s awesome,” Joran says when he finally calms.

  I’m glad one of us thinks so.

  To Saige, I say, “I didn’t think you wanted to do it, so I was going to play without it.”

  Something crosses Saige’s face—maybe regret or sadness, I’m not sure. I try not to look too hard so Joran isn’t tipped off that I’m pining away for his date.

  “Well, I still don’t believe in it.” She shrugs. “But I’ll do it.”

  “I love this.” Joran nods at Saige. “Open the bottle and throw it in his face.”

  “You’re in agreement?” I ask him.

  I look at Joran and he shrugs. “Why not? I think it’s great if it gets your game back.”

  Saige is quiet a moment. Even though I don’t know all her expressions, I’d say right now, she’s slightly pissed off. “You think it’s great that I might have to travel around with Aiden until this season is over?”

  Joran nods. “Why wouldn’t I? Whatever gets my number one man back on his game. That’s all that matters.” He clamps me on the shoulder and beams.

  Saige tilts her head. “So you’re cool with me spending time with Aiden?”

  Joran must finally hear it in her voice and his eyes narrow a bit. “Am I supposed to be jealous?”

  “I don’t know, I’d think that maybe you’d be a little concerned. He is a professional hockey player and it’s not like he’s bad to look at.”

  My ego inflates a little and I will say I don’t hate it. Maybe these feelings aren’t one-sided.

  “Saige, it’s not like—” Joran starts.

  She shakes her head and cracks open the wine bottle. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  “Joran Peters, get the fuck out of my locker room area!” Coach Vittner yells from down the hall.

  “Coach,” Joran says with that fake adoration in his voice. He walks over to Coach, leaving Saige and me alone.

  She’s ready to throw the wine in my face, but I place my hand on hers and wait for her to look me in the eye. “Thank you. I didn’t want to pressure you.”

  She laughs softly. “I didn’t want to be the reason you lost.”

  “So maybe you do believe in superstitions.” I raise an eyebrow.

  She chuckles. “I’d rather be the reason you’re winning than the reason you’re losing.”

  I swear she’s talking in code and there’s a lot more underneath that sentence than she’s telling me.

  I stuff my hands in the pockets of my slacks. “Do your worst.”

  She laughs and throws the wine bottle toward my face. Not nearly the normal amount of wine comes out, so she continues to do it until the small bottle is empty.

  “Let’s hope the cheap stuff works just as well as the expensive stuff,” I say while I wipe my eyes.

  She looks at the bottle. “This is the most expensive they had. Good luck tonight. I’m going on record as saying you didn’t need me to do this.”

  I lean forward, my hands still in my slacks, my tongue sliding out to lick the sweetness dripping from my face. “Then why are you here?”

  Our eyes lock and neither of us looks away. For a moment, it’s just us in that hallway.

  “Drake, get your ass in the locker room!” Coach screams. “Joran, take your girlfriend and go back to the suite. I feel like I’m back coaching at the college level.” He disappears into the locker room.

  Joran laughs and points at me. “Looks like it’s all handled?”

  I nod. “Thanks, Saige,” I say, hoping she hears my sincerity.

  “Have a great game,” she says with a smile.

  Joran holds out his fist to me. “Knock ‘em on their asses.”

  We fist-bump, then Joran slides his hand into Saige’s. I watch them walk down the hallway while my chest constricts painfully. I head back into the locker room to find Maksim already getting his change of guards from Tyler outside the bathroom. He raises his hand to high-five me, seeing that my shirt is now soaked.

  “Another time.” I decline since he’s just come out of the bathroom. Who knows what other superstitions he has?

  I quickly get my gear on, thinking about how I can’t help but like Saige even more now that she sought me out to make sure she could dump the drink on me. It says a whole lot about her and the fact I can trust her with my social media. So tomorrow, I’ll open myself up to the piranhas of fandom once more. Hopefully I don’t land in court again.

  Chapter Eight

  Saige

  The office is dead silent because Tedi is running late. Her personality fills the space when she’s here.

  I’m sitting at my desk, stewing after last night. The Fury won their game and Aiden scored two goals. At one point, I swear he looked at me in the suite, but it could have been my imagination. It has to be my imagination. Although on New Year’s I felt that pull toward him, felt that he had some interest, I’m sure it was only to get in my pants. Now he just needs me to throw a drink in his face.

  There’s a knock on the door, and since I’m the only one here, I walk over and peek through the side glass. Aiden stands there with a folder in his hand, wearing low-slung jeans and a T-shirt with an open hoodie. His hair is styled to a messy perfection, and those dark eyes are smiling at me. God, he looks like he could be in a high-end jeans ad. It makes it hard not to stare.

  I open the door and welcome him in. “Is there a game today?”

  I walk back to my desk, fully aware I’m giving him a view of my ass that’s snug in my pants because of the amount of junk food I’ve been consuming from stress eating over his proposal.

  “No. I go on the road in three days, so I wanted to sit down and
discuss some things with you.”

  I slide out my chair and sit down, motioning with my hand for him to do the same across from me.

  “No Tedi today?” he asks.

  “She’s running late.”

  “Another fuck-it bucket list item scratched off last night?” He smirks at me, and I can’t help but smile back.

  “She’s a rare breed, but she’s also the best friend a girl could have.”

  “I figured that out when she titty-twisted Ford’s nipple.”

  We share a laugh. What would I do without Tedi?

  “Great game last night,” I say to break the tension.

  “Thanks. I guess the drink throwing did the trick again. How was the suite?”

  “Well, all the food and drinks you can consume and the people below looking up at you with envy.” I shrug. “But honestly, I’d much rather be in the stands. Everyone up in the suite is just schmoozing and hardly watching what’s happening on the ice except when a goal is scored.” It’s not like I’m a die-hard hockey fan but if I’m there, I want to watch the game.

  “I figured. I’d rather be with the fans too. I feed off of their energy.”

  I don’t mention that I noticed that when Tedi and I sat in the first row. Aiden and some of his teammates actually communicate with fans. Either to read their signs, or give a puck to a little kid, or razz another player. It’s endearing and makes them less like idols and more like everyday people.

  “They love you.”

  “As long as I keep scoring they will.” There’s something more under those words, but he clears his throat before I’m willing to ask. “Anyway, I’m here with a proposition for you.”

  I lean back in my chair. “Another proposition?”

  “I know that if you come on the road with me, it’ll only inconvenience you.” He looks around the office. “You have your business, and it was insensitive of me to suggest you could drop everything just to tag along with me.”

  Huh, this is interesting. “Joran seems to think I should do just that.”

  “Joran would sell his firstborn to make sure my game is on point.” I open my mouth, but Aiden raises his hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”