We finally made it to The Ball Room. Mickey reserved us a table near the back, and I see Mel and Josie, but I don’t see Claire.
My phone buzzes with a text and disappointment settles like a rock in my gut.
Claire: Great game!
Claire: This week has kicked my ass and I’m exhausted. I know everybody’s going out to play pool, but I just want to crawl into bed and sleep for a year.
Pete: I can come hang out if you want company.
Claire: No way. You’ve earned this celebration. Go hang with your guys. I’m going to change into my new jammies and crawl into bed.
Pete: I think I’d like to see these new jammies.
Claire: I do look pretty good, if I’m being honest.
Pete: You sure you don’t want me to come back to the hotel? Or even to come out for a bit? I’ll probably only stay out for an hour.
Claire:I’m good right where I am. This bed is comfy. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.
Pete:Sleep tight.
My mood plummets, and it shouldn’t. I should be riding the high of a winning streak and looking forward to taking on our rivals, the Woodcock Bushtits—hand to god—as we make our way back to the Frozen Four.
Instead, I’m jealous of a pair of jammies and a hotel bed, which is pretty fucking stupid. Claire has every right to set boundaries. Even if we were a real couple, I couldn’t let my ass get chapped every time she wanted to catch up on sleep or decompress.
She’s had a crazy busy week, and it’s not over yet. The editor atPrentissloved her piece about the rage room, but they want more, so Claire is reworking some of her older pieces to see if they fit the vibe that Prentiss wants.
Plus, she’s got her classes and her work study.
And my family.
Claire happens to be free every day at four in the afternoon, so she’s been running Henry across town for his guitar lessons before dropping him back off at the rink for practice. I’d never have asked her to do that, but Henry did, and of course she said yes.
So, it’s no wonder she’s tired. And it’s my fault, too. Whatever free time we have, we spend together. My teammates would get suspicious if she wasn’t around,and I have to admit it’s no hardship to hang out with Claire.
But I’ve been taking up enough of her time lately, so I’ll hang with my guys before heading back to the hotel to get some good sleep.
This place Mickey found is pretty chill, so I settle into one of the worn leather chairs next to Van.
“Where’s your girl?”
I’m about to correct him, because he knows all about Ollie’s outburst and the show Claire and I have been putting on. But I keep my mouth shut because he’s my best friend, so he also knows that Claire and I can’t keep our damn hands off each other, fake relationship or not.
“She had a long week, so she’s going to bed early,” I say.
“Josie’s tired, too,” he says. “We won’t stay too long.”
I look over to where Josie is talking animatedly to Holland and Mel. The woman doesn’t look sleepy, and neither does Van. But I know that’s the excuse they’ll give so they can duck out in half an hour and go back to the hotel for some road trip sex.
And no, I’m not jealous.
And yes, that’s a lie.
JT takes the seat next to me, and Mickey brings over a tray of sodas. We’re keeping our noses clean. Not all the guys are of legal drinking age, and Coach said he’s had enough drama this season to last a lifetime. I know he’s damn glad that I was the only hockey player on the marine bio trip, so the fallout from Claire’s article didn’t affect us directly. Still, he’s given us strict orders to fly under the radar. The only press he wants us in is about our skill on the ice, so we’re following the rules. Even Ollie and Mickey, and those two regularly color outside the lines.
“Good fucking game,” Van says, nodding at our goalie. “I hate to say Ollie’s right about something, but you’re a brick fucking wall, man. They weren’t getting shit past you tonight.”
“O’Brien scored on me in the first period, but I’ve got to admit it was a sweet fuckin’ shot.”
