by Grey, S. R.
I expect her to laugh, but I only get a distracted, “No problem.”
Hmm, wonder what has her attention so diverted?
Too bad I don’t have to time to figure it out. I need to hurry. Lainey and I have lunch plans this afternoon, but not just for the two of us. We’re meeting her new friend, Eliza, at a chic new café. I guess Lainey’s been hitting it off with the girl really well. They’ve gone shopping together once or twice and went out to dinner the other night. Anyway, she wants me to meet her.
New friend Eliza also happens to be Coach T’s daughter, the one he keeps far from us. This should be interesting, especially since Benny’s joining us. This morning after practice I invited him, simply because I don’t want to listen to girl-talk the whole time. He was more than up for joining in. I think it’s because he’s curious to see what Coach’s daughter is like. And, well, what she looks like, as well. A few of the guys who’ve seen her around claim she’s a sexy little thing.
I’m still standing in the hall and I need to move my ass, so I turn around to head back to the bedroom to get ready. But then I hear Lainey sighing wistfully. This and her distracted response a moment ago make me wonder what’s up, so I glance down to where she’s waiting.
Aah, now I see, I think smugly.
Lainey’s eyes are what’re up. As in, she has a perfect view up under my towel from where she’s standing in the foyer. She’s taking me all in too, staring hungrily at my junk as she absently chews at her bottom lip.
I clear my throat, and she looks away swiftly. “See something you like?” I can’t help but ask.
I’m teasing, but kind of not.
I know I’m venturing into possibly dangerous territory, but it feels like forever since she and I have just straight-up flirted, probably not since movie night.
Oh, what the hell. I’m standing here in nothing but a towel, so I may as well have some fun with it.
“’Cause Lord knows,” I go on, “that I sure see something I like. You know what that outfit does to me, Lainey.”
Yep, you guessed it—she has on that damn bar wench uniform that drives me insane. I can’t help but sweep my gaze lustfully over her body. Told you I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions if she wore those damn clothes again in my presence.
“I have a shift after lunch,” she says by way of explanation. “I had to wear this. I won’t have time to drive back and change.”
“Uh-huh, okay.” I can’t tear my eyes away from her.
“Nolan…” She focuses solely on my face, though it seems to take all her effort to do so. “You know we can’t do this.”
I close my eyes, swallow hard. She’s right. “I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“Well, I shouldn’t have been, you know, staring up your towel like that. I mean, I knew it was wrong. But in my defense, Nolan, so much of you is just so”—she waves her hand around, indicating my cock, which is still hanging in the breeze—“out there for all to see.”
I step away from the rail. “I better get dressed.”
“Good idea.”
An hour later, lunch has concluded and the four of us are still at the café, just shooting the breeze. I look around the table and think, I’m glad we did this. Lunch was great, but this post-lunch relaxing is even better. Apart from one little thing—Benny and Eliza seem to be hitting it off a little too well.
Coach T will have my ass if anything happens between them. I invited Benny today, so it’d fall on me.
Fuck.
“Dude, did you even hear one word of what I was just saying?” Benny asks, turning to me.
All eyes are on me. Great. I have no idea what I just missed.
Lainey places her hand on my forearm. I’d rather see that warm little hand placed somewhere else on my body… But—wait, no.
Shit, I’m losing it today.
“You okay?” she asks me.
I shake my head, not to say no, but to clear my mind.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say at last. “I was just lost in thought over something.”
I don’t add that I’m thinking how Coach Townsend will probably have all our heads if Benny ever bangs Eliza. He works hard to keep his daughter far removed from us players, pretty much for that exact reason. He also happens to be fully aware of Benny’s extensive womanizing habits. He’d go ballistic if those two ever hooked up.
“Solvenson?” Benny prompts.
I still have no idea what’s going on, so I ask, “Uh, what are we talking about again?”
Benny gives me a look, like what’s up with you, man, but he lets it go and fills me in. “I was just telling the girls that I think they should come to our game tonight.”
Oh, thank God it’s nothing major. “Yeah, sure.” I shrug. “If they’re up for it, I think that’s a great idea.”
“I’d love to go,” Eliza chimes in enthusiastically as she turns a flirty smile Benny’s way.
I mentally roll my eyes.
“My shift’s done at seven,” Lainey then informs us. To Eliza, she says, “I can meet you inside the arena after work.”
“That sounds great,” Eliza responds.
This time when she smiles over at Benny, he grins back just as wide.
Ah, hell to the no.
Lainey looks at them and smiles approvingly. That’s no help. Looks like it’s on me to do whatever I can to keep my friend and the coach’s daughter from making the biggest mistakes of their lives.
Matchmaking Me
The Wolves are playing the Washington Capitals. When I meet up with Eliza just inside the arena entrance, it’s shortly before the game is set to start.
I’m smiling even before I reach her. This is my kind of girl! Not because she’s wearing cute skinny jeans, a regulation black and red Wolves jersey, and a Wolves hair tie in her strawberry blonde hair, all of which I’d have worn had I had time to change. But no, that’s not why I’m grinning. I’m laughing inside because Eliza has some huge-ass girl nads. She’s standing there, blatantly twirling around a sparkly, red, white and blue Capitals-themed wristlet in her hand.
“Are you crazy?” I say when I reach her. Nodding down to her little bag, I add, “You do know that’s the opposing team tonight, right?”
She laughs. “Yeah, I know.”
“Well, it’s mighty brave of you to bring it in here with these crazy fans.” Just as I finish, some guy walks by and snorts as he peers down at the purse.
Eliza gives him the middle finger, thankfully as he’s walking away.
As if she hasn’t caught on yet, I still feel compelled to inform her, “Ever since winning the Stanley Cup, the Wolves fans have turned into home team fanatics.”
She leans in close and whispers, “I know. I like to live dangerously.”
“Clearly,” I scoff.
Just then a female fan walks by and, nodding to Eliza’s clutch, obnoxiously states, “Ovechkin sucks.”
“He does not!” Eliza yells as the girl hurries off.
She starts to follow her, until I grab her arm and steer her away. “What are you doing? Think how embarrassing it’d be if you got into a fight.”
Eliza is quite the little spitfire.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I guess you’re right. My dad would have a fit.”
Gesturing to her Caps wristlet, I ask, “Speaking of your dad, does he even know you own that thing?”
“He does.” She smiles mischievously. “And he hates it so much. But it’s really all his fault.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was his idea for me to go to Georgetown. He should’ve foreseen me becoming at least a little bit of a Caps fan after three years in DC, right?”
She does have a point. Though, for tonight, I suggest she keep the wristlet out of sight.
“I think I will,” she finally concedes when a guy walks by and sneers at her. “I’ll keep it tucked up in the sleeve of my jersey.”
She makes a show of slipping her little b
ag up under the gaping cuff of her too-large-for-her shirt, and I say, “That’s better. Now you look like a full-on Wolves fan.”
“Yep, I’m game-ready.”
I peer down at my own outfit then. Crap, I don’t look game ready at all. There was no time to change after work—not that I had clothes with me anyway. But I can fix that now.
Glancing around at the numerous team apparel shops in the concourse, I say, “Maybe I should buy a jersey too. Not only would I fit in better with the crowd, but I’m feeling a little like a hockey hooker looking for some action wearing this getup outside of work.”
It’s true. I’ve received quite a few looks already. Not angry stares like Eliza was getting for the wristlet, but leering, pervy looks. Yuk.
Eliza’s purses her lips together and skims her gaze over my body, nodding like she understands my conundrum, especially when she reaches my substantial cleavage. “Yeah, maybe we better hit the stores.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I lace my arm with hers and we go into a shop called Fan Stop. After I sort through a bunch of player jerseys, I settle on a Solvenson one. Like there’s any other choice for me. My soon-to-be purchase is black and red, with the number seventy-seven on the front, back, and sleeves. It’s oversized, even more so than Eliza’s. I don’t mind since it’ll kind of be like having Nolan all over me.
Nolan…all…over…me. Gah!
Better think of something else, anything else. So I do. It’s a random thing, and I end up repeating it to Eliza. “Did you know Nolan calls these things ‘sweaters,’ never ‘jerseys.’”
“Huh.” She nods thoughtfully as we reach the register, where the sales girl starts ringing me up. “My friend from Ottawa calls them that too. It must be a Canada-thing.”
“Guess so,” I say.
I ask the girl at the register to cut off the tags before we leave. Once that’s done, I inform her I won’t need a bag. I tug the jersey—or is it sweater?—over my head and adjust it till the bottom edge completely covers the short hemline of my black skirt.
“Hmm…”
I twist up my face, and Eliza asks, “What now?”
“I don’t know. This new look might be worse than the work outfit by itself.”
“How’s that?”
“Now it looks like I’m wearing nothing but the jersey.”
“Aw, don’t worry about it,” Eliza urges.
“Great,” I murmur. “So now my choices are look like a hockey hooker or look like a puck bunny looking for some action.”
“Oh, stop. You look really hot, and that’s a good thing. Just own it.”
That’s sweet of her to say, but from the looks I’m receiving as we’re leaving the store, I just don’t know. I decide to do like she said and just own it.
“Yeah, it doesn’t matter,” I declare, all I am woman, hear me roar. “Let them look and think what they want. I’m here to enjoy the game.”
“That’s the spirit,” Eliza says. “Now let’s go find our seats.”
We soon discover we’re in the same section as we were for the preseason game, the night Eliza and I met. Only this time we’re not in the front row, we’re three rows back.
“I actually kind of like these seats better,” I say to her once we get situated. I don’t add that it’s because I’ll have a better view of Nolan, even when he’s on the other side of the ice.
“They are nicer,” she agrees. “I can see more of the ice.”
Our team comes out then for pregame warm-ups. Eliza leans forward and starts searching the players.
I wonder if she’s looking for Benny.
Yep, she is. It’s pretty obvious from the way she smiles and waves to him when he takes the ice with Nolan. He gives Eliza a nod, so I do the same to Nolan. He’s skating by and smiles up at me. Wow, he looks amazing tonight. There’s just something about him, an extra jump in his step or something.
Wow, is there ever, I’m thinking a minute later.
Nolan is on fire as he starts taking practice shots at the goal manned by our goaltender, Ruslan “Breeze” Brezzenov. I guess now that Nolan’s sloughed off his little scoring slump, which I assured him wouldn’t last, he’s feeling über confident.
And he has every reason to. Three slapshots and a wrister get by Breeze, who curses him out, albeit in a good-natured manner. Nolan laughs at his net minder flipping out. Benny skates over and says something that makes Nolan laugh even harder. He’s always stunning, but especially so when he’s in a really good mood, like he seems to be right now.
I just can’t help myself—Nolan’s smile makes me smile. But then I have to let out a resigned sigh. Too bad we’re relegated to the friend zone. I know it’s necessary for the time being, but it’s not like I revel in it.
Eliza starts asking questions about Benny, and I welcome the distraction.
“Do you know if he’s seeing anyone?” she asks, her eyes glued to the guy as he takes off his helmet over by the bench, letting his longish, dark blond hair flow, in order to adjust a strap.
I tell her, “I’m pretty sure he’s not.” But in the interest of full disclosure, and because I like Eliza and don’t want her to ever be deluded that Benny is something he’s not, I say, “I’ve heard he’s a player, though. And I don’t mean just on the ice.”
“Hmm…” Armed with this new info, she still can’t tear her gaze from him. Wow, she’s really into him.
“Maybe he is,” she continues dreamily. “But I’ve always believed that when a man finds the right woman, he can change those man-whoring ways pretty quickly.”
I raise a brow. “Does that mean you’re interested in him, like, for real for real?”
“Maybe.” She shrugs. “We’ll see.”
All righty then. I guess we will.
I can’t imagine Coach T will welcome this development, but then again the heart wants what the heart wants. Who is he to stand in the way of love? And really, who is anyone to? Certainly not me.
I resolve then and there to do whatever I can to help Benny and Eliza get together. I saw the way he looked at her at lunch this afternoon. It was obvious he likes her too.
Wow, maybe they’ll even end up falling in love! That’d be amazing. Just because I can’t have love doesn’t mean my friends shouldn’t have a shot at everlasting happiness. Or even just the temporary kind.
With visions of how matchmaking may aid me in not thinking so much about my own nonexistent love life, the game gets underway. The Caps score early, but Dylan Culderway, one of our top defensemen, scores from the point on a power play with only 1:18 left in the first period.
Midway through the next twenty minutes, Eliza grabs my arm excitedly when Benny puts up an assist on a beautiful goal from Nolan. “Wow, that was a nice one,” she says excitedly.
“It was,” I agree as I watch the replay on the Jumbotron. Benny and Nolan, fast skaters that they are, created a two-on-one situation during a Caps change. And, no pun intended, they quickly capitalized on it.
The game gets even more exciting during the third period. Nolan scores a goal ten seconds in and the crowd goes crazy. And then, a short while later, a little shiver runs down my spine when Nolan scores what ends up being his first hat trick of the season.
Ballcaps rain down on the ice and all I can think is, wow, all this energy for Nolan. I can literally feel the enthusiasm of the fans. I wish I could share my own enthusiasm with Nolan after the game, in one very specific way.
Damn it, this friends thing is getting trickier and trickier as the weeks go by. Shouldn’t it be getting easier? When are we going to fall into a comfortable routine? When will my insane attraction to him start to wane?
A little voice inside my head whispers, never.
Thankfully, Eliza pulls my attention from all these confusing questions when she leans in and says, “Wow, this is awesome. I wish I’d worn a hat.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I wish I’d thought ahead and bought one down in the shop when I got the je
rsey.”
I try to get Nolan’s attention since he’s on this side of the ice, but he’s too busy celebrating with his teammates. There’s a break afterward to clear all the hats, and then the game resumes.
There’s no more scoring, and the Wolves end up winning the game.
Now it’s time for someone, meaning Eliza, to win in the game of love. Before we leave, I ask her if she’s up for going back to the family lounge and finding out what Nolan and Benny plan on doing once they’re showered and changed.
“Maybe we could all go out and grab a bite to eat,” I throw out, shrugging.
Step one in my matchmaking plan is underway.
Eliza’s springtime-green eyes light up. “I’m up for that,” she tells me.
“You’re not worried about your dad seeing you back there?” I raise a brow.
“Nope. I found out he leaves by a different door. He’ll never see me.”
“Sneaky girl, I love it.” I take out my phone, laughing. “The guys should be in the locker room by now.” I enter my password to unlock the phone. “I’ll just text Nolan now and give him the heads-up on where we’ll be. I’ll ask if he and Benny”—I give her a conspiratorial wink—“want to go grab a late dinner.”
“Sounds perfect,” she replies, smiling wide.
I compose my text, typing in what I just told Eliza, and then I hit Send.
I’m giddy at the prospect of some good old-fashioned matchmaking. But my hopes are dashed when Nolan texts back that he and Benny, plus a couple of other guys, already have plans to go out.
Is it okay if we join you? I text back.
Uh, not tonight, he replies. We’ll just plan something for another time, okay?
It’s kind of not okay. This feels like a blow-off.
Shoving my phone back in my purse, I give Eliza the bad news and finish up with, “That was really weird.”
“In what way?”
“Nolan just seemed so abrupt. Whatever.” I shrug. “I just thought it was rude that he made it crystal clear we’re not invited to wherever it is they’re going.”
Eliza taps a finger to her chin. “Hmm, I bet I know where they’re heading.”
“Oh yeah, where’s that?”
