Page 2 of Hat Trick
“There you are!” Piper Mitchell, the Stars’ rinkside reporter, tugs on my arm. I take a seat in the booth next to her and smile. “What took you so long?”
“I had to give this dude at the bar an earful. He kept trying to touch my ass.” I take a sip of my gin and tonic and feel my shoulders relax as the alcohol works its way into my bloodstream. “Fucking men.”
“Fucking men is right.” Emerson—Emmy—Hartwell, the first female to play in the NHL and another one of my best friends, smirks. “Please look at what they’re doing.”
I shake my head at the conga line some of the guys have started. Half of them have ditched their shirts, and they’re taking turns passing the Cup around.
Maverick Miller, the team’s captain and Emmy’s husband, screams when one of the rookies drops the trophy. He dives to the floor and catches it before it can fall, then lifts it over his head a second later to a round of applause.
“I like seeing them happy.” Piper scans the overpacked room, giggling when her eyes land on Liam Sullivan. The goalie and grumpy asshole extraordinaire—and Piper’s accidental husband after a drunken night in Vegas but very real boyfriend—is standing in the corner with a scowl on his face. “I told him he has to socialize for an hour before he’s allowed to leave.”
“He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here,” Maven Lansfield, the Stars’ team photographer, says. “That’s a cute crown he’s wearing.”
“Isn’t it? I’m going to make him keep it on when we get home later.”
“Thatta girl.” I pat her thigh. “It’s nice everyone is having a good time. The guys worked hard this year. I wonder if they’ll be able to go for the three-peat next season. If anyone can do it, it’s this group.”
“You helped with that, Ms. Head Athletic Trainer,” Maven says to me, and I smile at one of my best friends. “Keeping them healthy isn’t easy.”
“It’s not, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.”
“They’re the greatest team of all time.” Emmy sighs when Maverick grabs the DJ’s microphone and yellsworld champions!andfuck LA and their overpriced grocery stores!“You can’t help but love them.”
I finish off my drink and stand, tugging on the hem of my miniskirt. “I’m going to run to the bathroom. Does anyone need anything while I’m up?”
“No, but we’re dancing when you get back. Hoes before bros tonight,” Piper declares.
“Bring me another drink,” Maven calls out, and I give her a wink over my shoulder as I saunter away.
The music is loud. The lights are low. To my right, people are grinding against each other on the dance floor and running their hands up and down sweat-soaked bodies. I manage to dodge a waitress carrying a tray of bottles going to one of the players’ tables, but I stumble on a discarded lime.
“Shit.”
Before I can face plant on the hardwood floor stained with god knows what, an arm loops around my waist. A palm settles on my hip. I turn and find Riley Mitchell, our star defenseman, looking down at me.
“Hey, Mitchy,” I say, relieved it’s not the loser from earlier.
“Lexi.” He smiles, and I can make out the hint of a blush on his cheeks. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just lost my footing. I love adding limes to my drinks, but I never thought a half-eaten one would be my downfall.” I gesture to the piece of citrus in question. “All is well. Thank you for saving me.”
He unravels his arm and takes a step back, pushing his thick framed glasses up his nose. “Happy to help.”
“How’s your night?” I ask.
“Good. Are you having fun?”
“Oh, yeah. Everyone’s rowdy, but it’s allowed. Areyouhaving fun?”
“You didn’t see me dancing earlier?” he asks.
“Shoot. I missed it. Will you show me?”
“It’s not nearly as impressive without music. I’d probably look like a gyrating robot.”
“Sounds like a sex move,” I say.
Riley chuckles. “I hope no one breaks an ankle trying to climb on the bar. Wouldn’t want you to spend your summer having to heal our dumb asses.”
