“So you just re-signed your contract with the Vipers,” Alessia says, breaking my thoughts. Her eyes glitter with excitement as she leans closer. “Ten-point-five million a year for the next eight years?”
“I thought you didn’t keep up with hockey.” Specifically, she told me she had to look me up when I told her I played professionally.
She waves my words away. “So, what are you gonna do with all that money? Buy a new house? Where do you live now? How many bedrooms? Can you see the mountains?” Her eyes widen, and she grips my hand in both of hers. “Oh my God, have you ever been to Paris? It’s so beautiful, especially in the fall. We should totally go.”
“I have hockey,” I remind her, trying to pull my hand back. Alessia laces our fingers together, and I swallow a groan when a flash from a phone goes off from across the restaurant.
“Can you book a week off?”
“That’s not how it—” I sigh. “That’s not really how hockey works, not with a contract.”
“Oh.” She frowns, then grins. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful at Christmas too.”
“You told me you spend the day with your grandma at the nursing home.”
“Grams will probably be dead by then. If she’s not, I’ll just skip. It’s not like she’ll know.” She fishes her phone out of her purse and promptly shows me a series of pictures of her posing next to her sleeping grandma, giving the peace sign while she grins or purses her lips.
What in the sweet fuck have I gotten myself into?
“Um…” I pour the remainder of bottle number one into my glass, then toss it back, hoping it’ll burn the memory of this conversation. “So you hiked the Appalachian Trail.”
She rolls her eyes and folds over the table, clapping her hands to it. “Oh-em-gee, it was the absolute worst . I hate nature. I hate bugs. I hate walking. I treated myself to a five-day spa vacation after that nightmare.”
Whatever was left of my heart sinks to my gut, churning.
“Your bottle,” Scott murmurs, appearing at our table. He uncorks the wine, pours a sample into each glass, and smiles. “Mr. Lockwood, if you’d be so kind, our head chef would love to meet you. He’s a big fan of yours.”
I leap to my feet, my knees colliding with the table, shaking the dishes. I catch the wine glasses before they can topple over. “Absolutely. For sure. Yes, of course. I love meeting fans.” I touch Alessia’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
Scott leads me through the restaurant and into a dark hallway.
“Next time I down half a bottle of two-hundred-dollar wine in ten minutes, I need you to pretend there’s a kitchen fire and escort all the guests out. I’ll cover the bills. Got it?”
Scott chuckles. “Loud and clear, Mr. Lockwood.”
“So you kissed her.”
“I did not kiss her. Have you been listening to me at all?”
Carter shrugs. “That picture on Instagram says you kissed her.”
I shove Carter’s shoulder, and he trips sideways in his rollerblades, stepping over the curb and shuffling onto the grass, where he catches himself against a tree.
“Motherfucker,” he bites out, leaping back onto the road, tearing after me at full speed as I take off ahead of him.
Before he can catch me, Emmett wraps an arm around his head, pulling him back against him. “Don’t poke the bear. Adam’s gone grizzly mode.”
Garrett barks out a laugh. “Adam never goes full grizzly.”
Jaxon loops around me and turns, skating backward so he can smirk at me. “I went full grizzly on three girls in his parents’ bedroom on Friday night.”
I point at him. “You’re at the top of my shitlist.”
He wags his brows and spins, the five of us settling into stride together, coasting down the quiet road. “So you didn’t kiss her?”
I tug on my ball cap at the uncomfy memory of last night. I walked Alessia to her car, thanked her for the nice/awful time, but when I opened her door, she slung her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine. I stood there in shock before her tongue wormed its way into my mouth.
I’m not entirely proud to say that, for a whole three seconds, I considered it. I let her tongue glide against mine, and my mind wandered to a place where I wondered what it would be like to give it up for one night, to forget about what I want and get some release for once in so damn long.
But I came crashing back down to reality with the flash of her phone as she took a fucking selfie of us mid-kiss, and thank fuck for that.
“I stopped the kiss and said I didn’t feel a connection and that it would be best if we went our separate ways.” I stroke my cheek, where I can still feel the sting of her palm. “She slapped me and said, ‘Thanks for wasting my time,’ before she got into her car, slammed her door, and drove off.”
Carter chuckles. “Never thought it’d be you getting slapped out of all of us.”
Jaxon touches his cheek and smiles. “I’ve earned my fair share. It’s fueled by some wild energy. Normally ends back in bed, or against a wall. Once, we even dropped right to the—”
“I don’t need to hear it,” I cut him off. “And now there’s a picture of me and her floating around the internet forever.”
Garrett pulls his phone out, snickering at the photo I’ve seen a hundred times today, the one Alessia tagged me in at the crack of dawn. “The caption is the worst part.”
Emmett takes the phone, clearing his throat before reading Alessia’s words out loud in the voice he reserves for his impression of his wife, Cara. “Had the best night with this man, but was so sad when I had to tell him I didn’t feel a love connection. Sad emoji. Three out of five on the kiss scale. Needs some tongue work.”
“Needs some tongue work, my ass,” I grumble, skating up my driveway. Giggles and shrieks flow from the backyard as I flip the lock on my gate. “And I told her I didn’t feel the connection!”
“Grizzly mode activated.” Carter makes claws with his hand. “Rawr .” His eyes light as they land on his daughter, but before he can get there, Garrett races by, scoops her up, and hugs her against his chest.
“Hi, angel,” he coos, dotting her face with kisses while she squeals with laughter. “Uncle Gare is here.”
Carter groans, balls his fists, and starts yanking his rollerblades off. “Jennie ! Come get your boyfriend!”
Cara rolls her eyes from where she’s sunbathing on her stomach. “Act your age, Carter, not your shoe size.” She grins up at Emmett as he claps a hand to her ass. “Hi, baby.”
My patio door slides open, and Jennie and Olivia slip out. Both their eyes light up at the sight of their men, shirtless, sweaty, and fighting over the sweetest baby. Garrett finally gives Ireland up in favor of sweeping Jennie into his arms, burying his face in her neck.
“Keep your hands above the waist, Andersen,” Carter grumbles as Garrett squeezes Jennie’s butt. “That’s my sister.” He sandwiches a babbling Ireland between him and Olivia. “My two princesses.”
Jaxon steals the spotlight as he tears by everyone, screaming, “Cannonball !” before disappearing into my pool with a six-foot splash.