Him (Him #1)(53)

I shake my head. “Let’s not do that.”

Holly gives me a rueful grin. “I was just trying to be a big girl about it.”

I take a long look at her. “Can I tell you something I’m trying to be a big girl about?”

Holly giggles, and I’m happy to have made her do that. “What?”

“The idea of moving to Detroit depresses the hell out of me.” I haven’t said that to anyone yet, and it feels good to get it off my chest.

She stirs her drink with her straw. “I know it’s not the prettiest city in the world, but you can find a nice place there, I bet.”

I shake my head. “Urban decay isn’t the problem.” Although it isn’t helping me picture a life there. “I don’t know a soul. And I’m not getting any playing time next year. Let’s be honest.”

“Oh, honey.” She sighs. “The first year could suck. But you’re good at what you do.”

“See, I know that. It’s not that I lack confidence. But the odds of really making it as a goalie are awful. It isn’t just the first year that might suck. It could be five years where they play me twice a season, and I’m just waiting around for my big chance. Or they send me to the minors, and I play seven games instead of two.”

“Or someone could get hurt, and your number could come up.” She puts her hand over mine. “But I know what you’re saying. It’s a long shot. And it won’t be your fault if it doesn’t work out.”

A waiter comes over to take our plates out of the way, and Holly orders a piece of blackout cake. “And two spoons.”

I’ve never been a fan of blackout cake, but now is not the time to point that out.

“I don’t like feeling ungrateful,” I tell her. “Everyone is so excited for me—they hear ‘NHL’ and get stars in their eyes. I’m not sure what to do.”

“I guess you show up and try it. Give it a year?”

“Maybe.” That’s the easy choice. But I can see how I could end up waiting forever. You could keep telling yourself, just a little longer! “Maybe there’s something else I could do with that year, though.”

“What does your friend Wes think?” she asks suddenly.

“What?” The mention of his name startles me.

“What does he think about Detroit?” She waits for my answer.

“I, uh, haven’t asked his opinion,” I confess. “He wants to be in the pros so badly. I’m not sure he’d understand. But it’s different for him. There’s more demand for centers. And he’s got that Frozen Four win...”

“Should have been yours,” Holly says firmly. She’s loyal to the core.

I look across the table at her wide-set eyes and wish things were different. If I was in love with Holly, life would be less confusing.

But I’m not. And it isn’t.

When the dark chocolate cake arrives, I tell her I’m too full to have any. Then I pick up the check on my way to the men’s room, so she can’t get to it first.





25





Wes





It’s past midnight when I stumble back to the dorm. Luckily Pat isn’t sitting guard in one of the rocking chairs, because there’s no way I can carry on a normal conversation right now. Walking in a straight line is also a challenge.

Yeppers, I might be a wee bit drunk.

I approach mine and Canning’s door and stare at it for a good minute. Fuck, what if his girl is in there? I stayed away for as long as I could, but a man’s gotta sleep sometime. And I’m not f*cking doing it on the porch.

He would’ve texted me if she was crashing here and told me to stay away.

Right?

The thought is like a hot blade to the gut. I can’t believe his f*cking girlfriend showed up at camp. He spent the whole day with her. Whole night too, probably.

My hands curl into fists as a parade of unwelcome images marches through my head. Jamie’s big hands roaming Holly’s feminine curves. His cock sliding inside her. His lips lifting in that dirty grin he always gives me right before he puts his mouth on my dick.

I’m such a goddamn moron. I shouldn’t have started anything with him. It was going to end once I left for Toronto, anyway. So hell, maybe it’s better if it just ends now.

I finally suck it up and turn the doorknob. It’s unlocked. And when I enter the room, I see Jamie’s mattress is on the floor again, just where it had been last night. But mine is on the bed frame where I’d put it this morning. Jamie is the only one in the room, too. My blood pressure eases, but just a bit.

He’s asleep. Good, because I’m not in the right frame of mind to talk to him right now. I can feel my temper pulsing through my veins along with all the alcohol I drank.

The room’s annoyingly dark. I stumble forward, bumping my arm on the side of the dresser as I reach down to unbutton my jeans. I kick ’em off, then tackle my shirt. There. I’m in my boxers now. I just need to make it to the bed without waking Canning, and then we’ll both be sound asleep and the Big Talk can be dealt with in the morning.

I ease my body onto the mattress as quietly as possible. Hell yeah. I did it. My drunken ass is now in bed and Jamie is still sleepi—