Page 19 of Three Pucks and a Baby

“Sorry, man. I was just talkin’.”

The guy shook his head and then started dragging my Southern charmer further down the hall. “Sorry! Gotta go!”

“It’s okay.”

“It was nice runnin’ into ya!” he called.

I laughed. “Same to you.”

Shaking my head, I then started back to the guys. When I returned to the table, I found a fresh cranberry and vodka waiting for me. After quirking my brows at the guys, Theo said, “We took the liberty of ordering you another drink.”

“I’ve said yes, so you don’t need to ply me with alcohol,” I teased.

“We all did another round,” Theo replied.

Grayson winked. “I sure as hell needed another one to cool off from all the fantasies I’m having of the three of us.”

An image of the two of them kneeling before me flashed in my mind, causing my knees to weaken. I flopped unflatteringly down into the booth. With my mouth running down, I quickly reached for my drink. After downing two long pulls, I glanced between the two of them.

“Do you guys…”Get a grip, Viv. How can you possibly partake in a threesome if you can’t talk about it?After drawing my shoulders back, I said, “Do you share women a lot?”

“Only during hockey season.”

At what must’ve been my quizzical look, Theo replied, “It’s part of our superstition.”

I blinked at him in surprise. “You have a three-some related hockey superstition?”

“Hell yeah,” Grayson replied. He then filled me in about his and Theo’s extracurricular hockey season-specific activities.

“That’s…interesting,” I remarked when he finished.

“Let me guess. You think we’re crazy,” Grayson teased.

Shaking my head, I replied, “No. I get it.” As I thought of my vision from before, I replied, “I’m someone who believes in signs.”

“So you have a little superstition about yourself too, huh?” Theo asked.

“I do. I mean, it’s because of signs and a vision board that I’m sitting here tonight.”

After I told the guys about what I had experienced, they widened their eyes. “Holy shit, that’s amazing,” Grayson remarked as Theo nodded.

“I like to think so.”

We were interrupted by the screech of a microphone and a roar going up over the ground. “Good evenin’, y'all,” a familiar-sounding voice boomed.

Theo motioned to the stage. “There’s our roommate we were telling you about.”

When I glanced up, I gasped. My Southern charmer from earlier was standing on the stage.

CHAPTER FIVE: BENNETT

With my guitar slung over my shoulder, I swaggered onto the stage. As the crowd erupted into whistles and cheers, adrenaline thrummed through me. It was the same rush I got when I took the ice for a hockey game. Regardless of the other highs I’d chased, I’d found nothing could compare.

By the same token, nothing nurtured my trauma quite like being on the ice or the stage. All the jagged, broken parts somehow managed to fit together when I had a stick or a guitar in my hand. With all my baggage, I was grateful I had not one, but two coping mechanisms.

Since I was in my senior year, I knew my time on the ice was fading. While I could always skate, it wasn’t the same as playing the game. Nothing could ever take the place of being in the rink.

“Well, howdy! How y’all doin’ tonight?” I crowed into the microphone.

---