Misadventures of a Rookie (Misadventures #11)(21)
“So that was cool. Will we have the same girls all week, or do they come weekly?”
She looked down at me. I was sitting on the bench, untying my skates. Clearing her throat, she tucked her hands into the sleeve holes of her shirt. “We’ll have two of them on Thursday, but other than that, they all come next week.”
“Cool. Do we get Tenisha again? She’s going to get that jump; I’ll make sure of it.”
She smiled. “Yeah, she comes on Thursday.”
“Awesome.” I flashed her a grin before looking down to take my skate off. “So was I on my best behavior?”
When I looked up, she was struggling again. It was sort of funny, but she nodded, a smile curling her lips. “You did fantastic. I thought I was going to have to do a lot more. You are actually really great.”
“Yeah, I’m basically great at everything.”
When she rolled her eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Anyway, I appreciate you helping me. Thank you.”
“Anytime. Honestly. I had a blast,” I said as I slid my feet into my sandals. Standing up, letting my skates hang from my fingers, I smiled down at her. “Wanna go get a drink?”
She shook her head almost immediately, like she knew what I was going to say. “I can’t drink on my pain meds.”
“We can get food and a bottle of water.”
She looked away, shaking her head. “I can’t. I’ve got homework and makeup shit since I missed last night.”
I nodded. “That’s right.”
“Yeah, so—”
“I’ll walk you out.”
She didn’t want me to, I could tell, but I wanted to. Dropping to her speed since she was hobbling on crutches, I walked beside her in silence until I asked, “So, you said that you depend on the money. Do you not make much as an ice girl?”
She laughed out loud, looking up at me like I was kidding. “Oh, you’re serious?” She laughed a little more, and I realized she must have made shit. “I make forty dollars a game.”
I made a face. “That’s totally not worth it. I mean, just with all the shit the players put you guys through.”
She nodded. “The girls like it.”
“You don’t.”
“No one really messes with me, and all you do is stare.”
That made me unbelievably happy. I didn’t want to beat up anyone on my team. I liked the guys. “Well, when I see a gorgeous girl, I gotta check her out.”
She blushed a bit as she looked down, watching where she was going.
“So, you depend on this, then?”
She nodded. “I make a lot here, I’ve built a great clientele, and everyone loves me.”
“You’re great with them.”
“Thank you.”
“So you were a figure skater?”
“I was, all growing up, but I wasn’t good enough to do anything with it. I’m really smart though, so I got a full scholarship without skating.”
I smiled. “That’s awesome.” I paused, hoping that she would ask me something, but she didn’t. So I asked, “So you’re not paying for school?”
She shook her head. “No, I pay for most of it. I only got a partial scholarship to MPT.”
“I thought you said you got a full scholarship?”
“Yeah. That was for an Ivy League school.”
“But you didn’t go?”
“Nope, I lost that.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “Mistakes.”
“Like?”
“Stuff,” she said, waving her hand at me. “I’m not telling you.”
“Yet.”
“Or ever. We aren’t friends.”
I laughed at that. “Of course we are. We’re practically besties.”
“If your friends treat you the way I do, then I would suggest you get some new friends.”
I smiled. “Nah, they’re cool, but you’re my favorite.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Because you won’t let me, but just think, we have a date on Saturday, and I’ll learn all kinds of things. Like how many freckles are on that sweet pussy of yours.”
Reaching out, she smacked my chest. “There could be kids out here.”
I shrugged innocently. “Hey, we’re not on the ice.”
She rolled her eyes, looking out in the parking lot. “Whatever.”
Holding the door for her, I asked, “Can you drive?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” She wobbled to her car. “Bye, Gus the Bus.”
I laughed. “See ya, BJSJ.”
I was answered by her laughter, and I couldn’t think of a better way for our night to end.
Problem was, I wanted more.
A lot more.
Chapter Thirteen
Bo
Gus moved with ease.
It was almost like he floated on the ice. The way he held his stick, it was like it was part of him. He moved around people like they weren’t even there. His puck handling was downright sick, and when he shot from the point, I was convinced he wouldn’t make it, but he did—with no effort at all. It seemed like he knew the puck would go in before he even let his stick slam into it. It was insane, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t love watching him play. I enjoyed it immensely. Not that I would ever admit that to him.