I smile, although I can’t deny the desire to coach isn’t there. “Maybe in a different life. I’m happy with what I’m doing.”
“Yeah,” she agrees. “Same.” It’s bullshit. Parker might have the career she always wanted, but she isn’t happy with her current job. She really wants to be here on the Vipers’ medical team. But positions are like gold dust.
It’ll happen. She needs to be patient.
It’s another thirty minutes before Dad and Fletch appear. Fletch is fresh from the shower and as per usual, the second he spots Reese in the crowd, he walks straight into her arms.
“Care Bear,” Dad calls—a little too loudly, considering we’re surrounded by people.
“Great game, Coach,” Parker says. “Casey and I were just talking about when she was little and used to tell your old coach what plays to run.”
Dad’s face lights up with a wide smile before a chuckle erupts. “You always had a good eye,” he tells me.
“Exactly.”
“You still do. I’ve made use of your ideas in the past.”
Pride swells in my chest. I know he has; I’ve seen him call plays that the two of us have discussed over the kitchen island.
“Breakfast tomorrow morning?” he asks, as if I hadn’t already agreed to it.
“You got it, old man,” I tease.
“Coach,” someone calls, making him look over his shoulder.
“Gotta go. Be good tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he warns before stalking off.
“Oh, Casey is definitely imagining doing things you wouldn’t do with your number fifty-five.”
“Shut up,” I hiss before grabbing my vodka and Coke and swallowing a large mouthful.
“I bet you that by the time this season is over—hell, by the end of the year—you’ll have gotten up close and personal with him again.”
My cheeks blaze red hot.
Fuck. I really hope she’s right.
“Parker,” I groan as she pulls me toward The Fractured Compass.
The drinks we’ve already consumed have left me with a nice buzz, but I’m not drunk enough to happily go along with her wicked plan.
“Casey,” she states authoritatively. “I’m not about to line up the entire team and ask you to blow them.”
“I should hope not.”
She pauses for a moment as if she’s considering the thought herself.
“You don’t want a hockey player. They’re all egotistical jerks, remember?”
“Still a hot image, though.”
“Jesus,” I mutter.
“Anyway, what I was trying to say is that you’re allowed to go to a bar where they might be, Case.”
“Where they are,” I correct. There is no might about it.
“So what? You’re a grown-ass woman. It’s not like you’re going to work your way around the team and make it hella awkward for everyone. You’re as much a part of the Viper family as they are. You’re allowed to celebrate a win with them.”
