Page 85 of Good Vibes Only
“Wha’? Really? What are you saying?”
Her pretty smile spread. “I’m saying, Brett, I wouldloveto be your girlfriend.”
“Yeah? Really?”
The elevator door opened and I stepped out, dropping to one knee, and pumped my fist in a swinging uppercut. “Woooo!”
The hotel lobby momentarily quieted as everyone turned to see what the commotion I’d created was all about—my teammates included, who milled around, waiting for the team bus.
“What wasthat?” McKayla asked with a laugh. “You looked and sounded like such a hockey player just then. Like you’d just scored a goal or something.”
“Well, Ifeellike I just scored,” I began earnestly, “so yeah, you got the official celly.”
“Celly?”
“Celebration. C’mon, Mac. If you’re going to be my girlfriend, you have to know all the hockey lingo.”
“Oh, lord. What have I gotten myself into?” She facepalmed. “I can’t believe I’m dating a hockey player.”
“Hey, it’swaytoo early to be regretting this already,” I teased.
She peeked through the cracks of her fingers. “I’m only kidding,” she said, grinning. “I like it. And your ‘celly’ was really cute, by the way.”
My teammates all stood and headed out the front door. Dakota waved at me, telling me to hurry.
“Dak’s telling me the bus is here,” I said.
The name of her high school ex put a worried furrow on her brow. “Oh. Right. I forgot about him.”
“Guess I better tell him the news, eh?”
“You don’t think he’ll be mad, do you?”
“Nah. No way. We’re boys,” I reassured her.
But the truth was? I had no idea what he’d say.
“Well, if hedoesget mad, tell him he doesn’t have any right, because we only dated for three weeks adecadeago, and he has no one to be pissed at except for himself because he couldn’t keep his stupid dick in his pants. Seriously.”
“I’ll quote you on that,” I joked and blew her a kiss. “Okay, now I really gotta go.”
“Same,” she said. “Hope you have a good day!”
“You too, babe.”
“Bye, boyfriend.” She cringed when the word came out of her mouth. “That felt weird.”
“You’ll get used to it,” I said with a wink, and we hung up.
* * *
The hotel doors slid open and I walked out to a sunny and blue-skied morning in St. Louis. I joined my teammates at the end of the line as everybody filed onto the team bus.
“Yo, Showtime,” Tank said, greeting me with a fistbump.
“Sup, boys.”
“What were you cheering about back there?” Dakota asked.
