Page 58 of Playing the Pucking Game
We started our night with tacos and margs—the only way to start a girls’ night, in my opinion. And then we hit up a club. Leah knew the bouncers, and we were allowed straight in and then directed to the VIP section, where we found a football team to hang out with.
I’ve only had a few drinks. I have work tomorrow, so I cut myself off earlier than the other two. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to be wasted to have the time of my life with them.
I may have only met Leah today, and known Brooke for a short time, but we all connected in a way I often don’t with other girls.
I can’t remember the last time I laughed until my throat was sore and my stomach hurt with anyone but Casey. It felt so fucking good, even if a little guilt lingers because my best friend didn’t get to experience it with me.
My feet ache, and my muscles are tired and ready for bed. It’s late, and I need to call it a night so I can be fresh for the game tomorrow, so we dropped Leah off at a hotel a few blocks away before promising to catch up with her tomorrow.
Linc shrugs one shoulder but doesn’t speak until his eyes meet my narrowed ones.
“What’s the point? It’s not like I’m going to be any use to anyone tomorrow.”
His accusation isn’t lost on me, but I don’t have the energy to spar with him. Now that we’re back, the only thing I can think about is stripping out of my dress and falling into bed.
“Your team needs you, Storm. Even if it is support from the bench while you recover.”
Thankfully, the elevator doors open before he can respond, and Brooke and I race forward.
She pushes the button for her floor as Linc joins us and presses the one for the floor above.
We ride in silence, the air thick around us, and it doesn’t help that Brooke stares at me the entire time as if she’s hoping I’ll do something.
I’m not sure what she’s expecting, but she’s going to be disappointed. After the death glares I’ve received from our first-line winger all day, the last thing I want to do is hang around and have a conversation with him.
Come on,I silently beg, desperate to get out of this elevator.
When the car finally stops and the doors open, Linc steps out.
“It’s okay, I’m right here,” Brooke says, pointing to a door just a little farther down.
She taps her key to the panel and opens the door as Linc holds the elevator doors open so he can see she’s safe.
How very gentlemanly of him.
“I’m not a total asshole, you know,” he mutters after Brooke waves and lets her door click closed.
“U-uh…” I stutter, not realizing I said that out loud. Maybe I’m drunker than I thought.
“What floor?” he asks, ignoring my previous comment.
“Same as you,” I confess quietly. Why I couldn’t have been next door to Brooke, I have no idea. Maybe I should have pretended I was, just so we didn’t have to be stuck together in this enclosed space for the next two minutes.
“Okay then,” he says, jabbing his finger into the door closed button repeatedly.
The second they slide together, I take a deep breath, praying it’ll be enough because something tells me all the air is about to be sucked right out of this car.
The elevator jolts as it continues its ascent.
Silent seconds pass. If it weren’t for Linc’s stare burning the side of my body, I’d think he didn’t care.
But it seems that he can’t take his eyes off me, and that does things to my insides that it really shouldn’t.
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Not enough to forget this exchange in the morning.”
“Huh.”
