The Not-Outcast(65)

He finished tying and sat back up. “Like what?”

“You know. Don’t be a douche.”

He broke, laughing. “Right. But we’re heading back for some party thing next week. After we get back from our away game.” He pulled on his shin guards, then reached for his tape. “How’s that going to go?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. Come Our Way. You. Your girl. The guy who wants to get in her pants.”

I was thinking, remembering. That first night flashed in my mind. “He works with her? That guy?”

Hendrix’s grin was slow and smug. “He does. He’s the one setting everything up.”

Of course.

Jesus Christ.

Of course.

I shook my head.

I didn’t need another problem on hand, but it was good to know. “Thanks.”

He dipped his head down.

We finished suiting up, and by unspoken agreement, both stood and headed out for warm-ups.

It was game-mode time now.





32





Cheyenne





I woke up with a gnawing in my stomach. I didn’t like it.

Bones are supposed to be gnawed on, not my stomach. I figure I had that feeling for a reason, so I was about to do something. I didn’t want to do this at Come Our Way. The weekend staff was on, and they were mostly college kids looking to do good. I didn’t want them to feel the same ‘not good’ feeling I was having, and I knew Dean was a hockey fanboy, so here we were.

I was waiting for him on the side street before heading down to the arena. Dean was supposed to be coming since he was going to the game after this.

I heard a car door shut. A beep. And I turned, there he was. Just finishing locking up his car, and he waved, jogging around and over to me. Eyeing his sweater, he didn’t have a right to wear Cut’s number, but I kept that fact to myself.

Dean had no idea about Cut. He had no idea about anything except his job and wanting to get the word out as much as possible, and getting as much funding in as he could get. Those were both good goals, but he went about it the wrong way this time.

“Hey, Cheyenne.” The wind picked up, blowing some of his hair around and he raised a hand up, smoothing it down before putting both his hands in his pockets. “What’s up?”

“You had no authority to send out those invites for a charity gala.”

Straight to business. We had a hockey game to get to.

He blinked a few times. “Whoa. Okay. I didn’t think you’d actually care that much. I just figured it was a one-time—”

“You sent those invites out and you opened up a hornet’s nest for me. No authority. None. You fucked up.”

This was always my favorite time.

Someone did something wrong, and now was when they either owned up to it or …

He scowled. “Are you kidding me? You can’t come at me—”

I stopped listening.

I knew what path he’d chosen.

He chose wrong, but he didn’t want to feel the bad for making a bad call. Therefore, he was now going to either deflect, attack, or say some excuse. The excuses were the best because the ingenuity was the genius. If an excuse was given, somehow it’d lead back to the person wronged and how everything was actually their fault.

Somehow him not getting my approval for the event would be my fault.

Him sending out those invites would be my fault.

Newsflash. None of this was my fault.

I interrupted whatever he was saying. “Company policy is that you needed a unanimous decision. I am one of those voices. I never gave approval. You violated a company policy.”

He started talking again. I tuned in, hearing, “If you’d just—”

I tuned out again. He was now attacking.

Me again. “No matter how you spin this where I’m at fault, you know I’m not. You fucked up. You.”

He stopped, his face all red and puffy, and he clamped his mouth shut.

He was seeing me, seeing I didn’t give a fuck what he was going to say, and then he growled. “If you had explained why—”

“No. This is where you don’t get the floor. I will be bringing you in front of the board.”

“What?! You can’t—”

“I can. Now.” I gave him my ticket. “Enjoy the hockey game.”

I was going, but I wasn’t sitting in my seats. Sasha and Melanie were pulling ranks. They wanted to enjoy the game with me, so after Dean looked down, frowning at my ticket, he crumpled it up and stalked off. Sasha and Melanie stepped out from around the corner.

Melanie frowned at me. “You gave him your ticket?”

I nodded.

Sasha was frowning, too. “Why?”

“I told him to come down, that he could go to the game if he wanted. He said yes, but he didn’t know that I was going to ambush him.”

“Cassie told me that you have season tickets. That seat is going to be better than any seat we all get together.”

I shrugged.

Sasha was giving me a harder look, her eyebrows pulled together. “You’re setting him up.”

Melanie glanced at her, then to me. “Huh?”

I only shrugged again, but I was.