Page 41 of Dream Chaser
I shift in my seat, uneasy. This was supposed to be simple. Hot girl. Banter. Some chemistry. A little heat to take the edge off a brutal season.
But watching her kneel there, muttering something quietly to Bricks to make him smile while keeping track of his vitals, I feel it.
That slow tug.
Not lust.
Not just lust, anyway.
Something I did not sign up for.
I especially did not expect to get fired up.
She hadn’t told me someone had been tailing them on the drive down. But maybe … maybe that wasn’t about fear or annoyance. Maybe it was about something else I’m not ready to unpack yet, or ever.
I pull my beanie down and cover my eyes, lean back, and try like hell to turn it off.
After the ice bath, which was brutal, I check in on Grimes, Warren, and Bricks. All are stable. Warren and Grimes aredoped up and cracking jokes from their hospital beds, which helps me breathe easier.
On the way to the hotel, I call Grand instead of answering her text. I know she hates texting as much as I know she won’t stop worrying until she hears my voice. Voice wasn’t good enough; she made me switch to a video call. She ended the call, telling me not to look at anything online, because she wants me to rest. As soon as we get off, I of course hit up the web, and anger—no, rage—sets in. I decide to shut it down.
Now I’m posted up at the bar in Costello’s hotel, where he’s hosting some of our crew post-arena recovery.
Dean and his team are mid-season, but he still managed to make space. Pros in season don’t usually mix with outsiders, but Costello’s a Lincoln alum, same as a bunch of us: me, Warren, Hunt, Grimes, and Hart. It’s an unspoken brotherhood.
A handful of his teammates are here, too—Smith, Giulietti, KOK, Sterling, and Theo Rivera. Which would be fine … except Theo’s wife doesn’t much care for me.
And I once called her a puck bunny.
Okay, in my defense, she was on a date with Oz when Theo showed up and made it clear he had dibs. He was hockey, we were football, not ever a big beef, but you stay loyal to your team. I was a cocky college kid. She slapped me—hard. In front of everyone. Did I deserve that? Yep.
So, I’m parked at the bar, hiding in plain sight, sipping soda water like a coward. Until Theo himself appears at my side, ordering a bourbon. He doesn’t look pissed.
“You avoiding the table or just cutting weight?” he says.
I glance at him. “Hunt at the table?”
Theo nods. “Everything’s chill, man. Come eat.”
Before I can respond, Izzy slides up on my other side with Mags in tow. She senses it instantly—the tension, the shift in the air.
She leans against the bar, eyes flicking between us. “This a standoff, or just a pissing match?”
Theo chuckles. “Neither. It’s an invitation to come chill with alumni. Feed some feels.”
Theo gives me a nod before heading back toward the table. Mags follows, but not before giving me the don’t-blow-itlook.
Oh hell yes, Iz has been dishing.
“Skinner, there is food and friends just right over there.” Iz laughs. “Come on, tough guy. You gonna hide back here all night, or are you gonna go be one of the team?”
I look toward the table—old friends, current teammates. Okay, that’s kind of bullshit, but I gather she’s staying, so hell yeah.
I nod. “Let’s go.”
Hate to admit it, but a good time was had. The best part was when Rivera handed me his phone. “For you.”
“Oh yeah?” I chuckle.
