Page 30 of The Silent Count
Unfortunately, Lea and I got split up between the two different hotels, so there was no chance that we were going to spend time together during this trip. I knew the likelihood of us being able to sneak away for a few minutes alone would be slim, but I liked it better when there was a possibility. Something to keep my brain occupied instead of dwelling on tomorrow’s game, and how miserable it’s going to be playing in freezing temperatures for a change.
The doors of the hotel open with a swoosh, letting in a gust of cold air that raises goosebumps along my arms. Red hair catches my attention from the corner of my eye. The concierge hands me my room keys, and I twist to see Lea storming into the hotel with her suitcase in tow.
She looks pissed, and goddamn, she looks hot when she’s mad. Her shoulders are pinned back, and she’s wearing a scowl that could make a grown man’s knees buckle.
“Fortune.”
“Lea.”
I love it when she says my name like that. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my dick twitch whenever she says it.
The concierge hands me the keycard to my room—or suite, I should say. Somehow it was the only room left in the hotel, and since the handful of coaching staff who came with us over to this hotel decided they should be first to get their keys, they didn’t get first pick at it.
Their loss, I guess.
Lea plants herself next to me, briefly eyeing me up and down before turning to the gray-haired man behind the desk. A warm smile spreads across her face as she greets him. “Hi. I spoke with someone on the phone a few minutes ago, and they said there was another room available.”
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I’ve been checking people in for the last hour, and I’m the only one here for the next two hours,” he explains. “You must’ve spoken with our downtown location, because our hotel is fully booked for the night, thanks to the team’s last-minute bookings.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbles under her breath, so quiet I hardly hear her. I see the red, splotchy patches creeping over the neckline of her sweater. She quickly schools her expression, pulling back her shoulders, but I know this is the worst-case scenario for her.
We’re half an hour from downtown with no traffic. And considering we’re on the outskirts of Boston, one of the worst cities in the country for traffic, that time would be doubled, if not tripled, since it’s a Saturday night.
“Lea, can I speak to you over here for a second?” I jut my head to the side. She offers the concierge a quick smile before walking out of his earshot. I give him a tight-lipped smile of my own before saying, “Thanks for your help. We’ll work on getting this sorted out.”
Lea mutters a quick, “thank you,” from the vacant seating area on the opposite side of the lobby. She’s popping a hip while typing aggressively on her phone. The hardshell suitcase at her side is three sizes too big for one overnight, but I won’t be the one to tell her that.
There’s no doubt in my mind she’s trying to figure out if there are any hotels in this city that have an extra room available. With how high profile this game is, though, I highly doubt she’ll be able to find anything within twenty miles. She’s got that pissed off look about her, the kind she usually has after reaming out one of my teammates for being a jackass.
Her mouth scrunches to one side, and I find the way she’s tapping her foot against the floorboard while shaking her head far cuter than it should be.
She sweeps her rust-colored hair to one side, and I stand back for a minute, marveling at her. When she flicks her gaze up to meet mine, her features soften. Not a lot, but enough for me to notice. It might have something to do with the cracked smile on my lips.
“Yes, Parker?”
“That’s not fair,” I give her a playful scoff. “We’re not going back to last names because you’re annoyed.”
The tension in her shoulders unravels slightly, just enough for them to drop an inch. “I’m sorry. I just… away games already stress me out enough as it is and Pamela has already messed up our flight to the Carolina game earlier this season, and now this.”
“Cut her some slack, Sterling. It’s a human mistake.”
Those whiskey-colored eyes shoot me daggers, because I shouldn’t be one to talk. The locker room is riddled with guys talking shit about other teams and how their actions ruined a game for us. Or when a player does some stupid shit that requires a new rule to be set in place overnight. They might not be our direct coworkers, but they’re colleagues all the same.
“I think that after twenty years of working the same job, you should be able to do the most vital task without royally messing it up. A few blips here and there are understandable, but this has happened twice a season since I’ve been with the team,” Lea mumbles to herself as her thumbs fly across her phone screen.
I know I shouldn’t say what I’m about to say before the words leave my mouth, yet there’s nothing that could stop me from blurting them out. In part because spending the night with Lea would be better than spending it alone. Pair that with the reality that she won’t be able to find another place to stay this close to the stadium, and it seems like my idea is the only logical solution to her problem.
As long as we don’t get caught, that is.
“You should stay in my room.”
Lea’s mouth drops open and she quickly clicks off her phone and shoves it in her back pocket. “What did you just say?”
She knows exactly what I said, but I’m not going to test the waters by teasing her when she’s already on edge. As much as I hate snow games, I’d rather not end up on the injured reserve list. I’m pretty sure Abel told me a story once about how she tried to break his leg one time. He said she did it with a smile, too.
That’s my girl.
The difference between him and me is that he isn’t quick enough to anticipate her antics until it’s too late.
