Page 109 of Skate the Line

“We’re getting drinks!” Georgia shouts to the guys. She’s the loudest one during the games, always buzzing with excitement.

“What do you like?” Scottie loops her arm within mine.

“Um…” I glance backward, a little unsure of myself. Rhodes is in a conversation with his teammates, not even paying attention.

He seems so cool and collected all the time.

It’s infuriating.

“I don’t know,” I finally say. “I guess I’ll just do a whiskey sour.”

It was my grandpa’s favorite.

“One whiskey sour, two cosmos, and I’ll have a Shirley Temple.”

Scottie’s smile comes back into view. “I’m not pregnant,” she clarifies. “I just don’t drink much.”

I nod. “I don’t drink much either.”

Hattie, one of the wives, puts her arm around me. “But you’re making an exception tonight because it’s your birthday. Plus, we’re officially welcoming you to our pack.”

I glance at the three of them. “Thank you for doing this. My birthday isn’t a big deal, but I’m happy to celebrate being welcomed into the pack.”

Scottie grabs my drink from the bartender. “Your birthdayisa big deal.” She hands it off to me. “Now drink up. We’re heading to the dance floor after this.”

We cheers our drinks and go back to the booth where Malaki, Kane, and two other younger guys are standing around.

Malaki locks eyes with me and gets the goofiest look on his face. My cheeks turn fifteen shades of red when he starts belting the words to “Happy Birthday.”

“Oh god.” I dive into the booth to hide from the attention.

Rhodes laughs under his breath, and I elbow him in the ribs.

“It’s cute that you think that hurt,” he mutters, putting his arm on the back of the booth.

I grumble and take a sip of my drink.

Malaki slides next to me. I’m in a sandwich between the two of them, and it feels like I’ve known them forever.

Emory, one of the best goalies in the league, according to the reporters the other night, buries his head into Scottie’s neck. Even under the dim light, I see the lovey look on her face.

Two drinks down, casual conversation amongst the table, a song change, and the next thing I know, I’m being tugged out of the leather booth on less stable legs than I arrived with.

“Oh no.” I shake my head. “I don’t dance.”

Rhodes scoffs. “Yes you do. I’ve seen you.”

I glare at him. Whose side is he on?

“What? When?”

“With Ellie.” There's a challenge in his eyes. Like he’s daring me to argue.

He’s right. Ellie and I dance all the time.

“Come on, birthday girl,” Malaki pleads.

The rest of the girls, even Scottie, dash to the floor.

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