Page 48 of One Good Puck
“Do you two bump into each other like this very often?” Sophie asks.
“Once or twice,” Abby says, her cheeks a pretty pink shade, her smile shy as she looks at me.
She steps to the side and crosses her arms over her chest. Sophie hops up and hugs me.
“Nice surprise seeing you here,” I say.
“Dakota and I convinced Abby to let us come over and have a relaxing wine night,” she says. “How did the speech go?”
“I think it went okay. No one booed me.”
She chuckles. I would have been back last night with the team and the staff, but the owner of the Bashers asked me to speak at a conference he was attending, so I stayed an extra day in Detroit to do that. I don’t normally like speaking at conferences, but since I’m currently on Alan’s shit list, I figured it would be a good idea for me to get on the team owner’s good side.
“It’s getting late,” Dakota says. “We should probably get going.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Sophie and Dakota step over to hug Abby goodbye.
“Thanks again for the wine and chat,” Abby says.
“Anytime.” Dakota beams, then turns to me. “Congrats on the winning streak.”
“Thanks. You two have a good night. Drive safely.”
“We will,” Sophie says.
I shut the door behind them and turn to Abby, trying my hardest not to let my gaze slide below her neck.
“Sounds like you ladies had a fun night,” I say. “Sorry to interrupt.”
She lets out a flustered laugh. “It’s a good thing you did. I was on my third glass of wine, and they convinced me to try on an old dress that barely fits me. Clearly, I need to be stopped.”
I hold her gaze. “I think that dress fits you perfectly.”
Her full cheeks flush, and a teasing smile pulls at her lips. “Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.”
“I should change.”
She turns around and starts to walk off, but then she trips over my suitcase and falls to the floor.
“Ow!”
I rush over to her. “Crap, are you okay?”
She lets out a pained laugh. “Yeah. Just a little embarrassed.”
I help her up. “That’s my fault. I shouldn’t leave my suitcase in the middle of the floor like that.”
I spot a cut on her knee.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Abby glances down and just shrugs. “I’ve had worse. Pretty sure I’ll survive.” She chuckles.
“Let me clean you up.”
“It’s really okay.”
