Page 25 of Stay
I roll my eyes in answer.
When the game finally ends, the crowd goes wild because the Timber Wolves have managed to pull off a win. From what I can tell, their team looks solid. They have a lightning quick offense and a solid, not to mention huge, defense. This is where the strapping comment comes into play. And the goalie was pretty talented as well. Not much slid past him tonight. Even though it was bittersweet to watch, I can definitely see myself coming back to catch a few more games during the season.
“We’re all heading over to a little bar after this to celebrate, are you in?” The unexpected rush of adrenalin from tonight’s win has Brooklyn bouncing on the edge of her seat with even more energy than usual.
“You never mentioned going out after the game,” I groan.
Brooklyn knows I’m not much of a partier, but she doesn’t understand the reasons for it. I haven’t wanted to talk about last year.
She smiles brightly before stating the obvious. “If I had told you, you wouldn’t have agreed to come with me tonight.”
I narrow my eyes because she’s right. As painful as the memories are, I’m glad Brooklyn talked me into coming with her. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. Until tonight, I hadn’t realized how much I missed hockey.
Interrupting my thoughts, she gives me sad puppy dog eyes and steeples her hands together as if in prayer. “Please, please, please,” she begs prettily. Already I can feel myself weakening. “We’ll have so much fun!”
Argh…I don’t want to go.
I don’t want to give in.
I don’t…
“All right, fine. I’ll go.”
Ugh.
I hate when she talks me into these kinds of situations because I usually end up regretting them. “But I’m not staying long.” One hour, tops. Then I’m heading back to the dorms.
Brooklyn beams with satisfaction. “Yay! Now you can meet Austin. He’ssooocute andsooonice. I really like him, Cass.” She gives me a meaningful look. “He could totally be the one.”
I almost snort.
The one for what?
Today?
Tomorrow?
This week?
Next week?
Yeah, sure. We’ll see about that. Brooklyn is well-known for hopping from one guy to another at the speed of light. In the three weeks we’ve been rooming together, she’s been out with four different guys. Number fifty-five is forth in that line up. Needless to say, the other three guys are still texting and calling, but she’s already moved on. So, do I really expect this one to last any longer than the others?
Nope.
After most of the fans empty from the stands, Brooklyn and I meander our way to the lobby to wait for Brooklyn’s new flavor of the week. All I can say is that the girl definitely has a type—hot, athletic, and likes to have a good time.
Just like she does.
It takes about twenty minutes for the guys to filter out of the locker room. The coach will usually talk to the team (or yell if they lose), discuss what went right (or wrong), and then they shower and change.
Brooklyn squeals as her guy saunters out of the locker room with a smile lighting up his handsome face. Just like I suspected, he’s hot and athletic. In true Brooklyn fashion, she runs and jumps into his outstretched arms before wrapping her legs around his waist. Anumber of his teammates hoot and holler in response. Unaffected by the catcalls, she kisses the hell right out of him.
Unfortunately, watching them is like staring at a horrific traffic accident. You don’t necessarily want to watch, but you’re helpless to rip your gaze away.
“Guess the tables have turned and you’re the one stalking me now.”
My heart skips a beat as I spin toward the deep male voice. Before I turn, I know exactly who I’ll find.
