Page 94 of Game Changer
“What?”
“That he told me that he loves me. That I told him that I love him. I know it’s only been a few weeks.”
“Are you in love with him?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s not weird.” She looped her arm through his and tugged him against her. “Come on. Let’s go watch your man play hockey.”
Chapter Sixteen
Detroit was cold as hell.
Not that it had been particularly warm anywhere Scott had been lately, but Detroit was unreasonably cold.
It ruined his plan of going for an evening stroll while he called Kip. His roommate seemed to be settled in for the night in their hotel room, and the lobby was oddly busy due to some kind of business conference. He didn’t want to go anywhere too public, like a coffee shop, because Detroit was a hockey town and he would almost certainly get recognized.
He decided to play the fame card.
He went to the front desk and gave them his best Scott Hunter smile. “Excuse me. I was hoping you might be able to help me.”
The young man behind the desk looked very excited. “Of course, sir!”
“I need to make a phone call and I was hoping for some privacy. But my roommate is asleep and...”
The young man smiled at him as if he were about to do a very big favor for him. “Come with me,” he said. “I know where you can go.”
He led Scott to a door that saidMeeting Room #3on it. He unlocked the door and turned on the light. “Stay as long as you need,” he said. “The door will lock behind you.”
“Thank you,” Scott said, glancing at his name tag, “Michael.” He handed him a twenty-dollar bill, and Michael took it, beaming. He thanked Scott twice before leaving the room.
Scott sat in one of the meeting-room chairs and called Kip, who picked up right away.
“Two wins. Nice job,” Kip said.
“Yeah, thanks. I’m proud of the guys.”
“I love watching you play.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm. It’s sexy.”
Scott grinned. “Where are you?”
“I’m in your bedroom. Where are you?”
“A hotel meeting room in Detroit.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, sorry. Not tonight.”
“That’s okay. I’m snooping around your apartment.”
“Snooping?”
“Yeah. Looking in your drawers.” There was a pause. “Oh my god. Scott, do you keep your gold medal in your underwear drawer?”
