“Live a little.” The challenge was an invitation for so much more. Blair’s eyes flared with surprise, her fingers flexing against my shirt as her mouth parted with a small gasp.
“I’ll even drive you, if you want to have a drink.” I hated that I couldn’t tell whether I was winning her over or failing miserably. All I knew was that her hand was still on my pec, and I didn’t want her to let go.
She startled, her gaze dropping to her hip where my hand had come to rest. Huh. I gave a little squeeze, then let it drop as she put some unneeded distance between us.
“I’ll meet you there.”
“Bet.” I grinned, hoping to cover the small shot of disappointment I felt. She rejected the ride but agreed to hang out. Small wins.
Her lips quirked as she took another step back before turning away.
“I’ll buy you a drink,” I called, definitely not watching how her ass moved in the tight pair of jeans she’d worn for the game. I loved how casually she dressed for her job. Not that Dante didn’t look badass in her power suits, but Blair could be comfortable and still hand the guys their balls. No costumes needed.
“Stop looking at my ass,” she called over her shoulder as she reached a junction in the hallway.
The comment was so unexpected that a laugh bubbled out before I could stop it.
“What if I say no?”
She turned the corner without reply, and I found myself walking a little faster than necessary back to the locker room to grab my gear and head out.
A mile from Austin Arena, O’Malley’s Irish Pub was an institution in Aces culture. Owned by former player, Tadhg Murphy, it was the preferred meeting place for social events and aftergame hangouts.
Standing room only took on a whole new meaning as I pushed through the door and had to sidestep the crush of bodies lined up to order at the bar.
The aftergame wrap-up was blaring from the television mounted behind the bar, barely audible over the eighties rock ballad pumping through speakers.
Between the noise, the press of bodies, and the stink of sweat and stale beer, it was a sensory overload that brought on nostalgic thoughts of college coupled with a trauma response to playing hungover in the first year before I decided I wanted hockey more than I wanted to get wasted.
It was all fun and games until you vomited on the ice.
Twice in one week.
Coach had rightly torn me a new asshole and told me in no uncertain terms I could be the player who makes captain, or the wasted talent who got benched.
No brainer, really.
“Oh, thank God. It’s packed in here.”
I blinked out of my memories, slowly registering the small hand on my arm.
She came.
“Come on, they keep tables for us at the back.” Using the crowd as an excuse, I gripped Blair’s hand and tugged her through the crowd. The going was slow as every second person stopped to ask me for photos, or congratulate me on the team’s win, but I kept hold of her hand through all of it.
“I can get through by myself,” she grumbled as yet another person called my name. She tugged against my grip halfheartedly.
Instead of stopping, I raised a hand at the guy who wanted my attention and reeled Blair in closer, taking a risk by placing a hand on her lower back and guiding her to where several tables had been pushed together and several of my teammates were already passing around jugs of beer.
“Look who I found,” I announced, presenting Blair like her arrival was a happy accident. Oscar waved us over to a couple of vacant seats across from him and Mia.
“Glad you could make it. This is my wife, Mia,” he said to her as soon as we were in earshot. I pulled a chair out for her, ignoring the suspicious look she shot me, and waited until she sat down with a huff.
“Nice to meet you, Mia,” she said as I grabbed two clean glasses from the center of the table and filled them, passing one to Blair like it was something I did all the time. She accepted the drink with barely a glance as she launched into a conversation with Mia about her psychology degree and burlesque dancing while I watched her quietly, enjoying seeing her relax and open up. Her grin sparkled as she laughed at something Oscar said, and I offered a refill on her glass as she drained the last of it.
She nodded, leaning in until her lips brushed my ear.
“Thank you for inviting me out. I’m having fun.”
