Page 75 of Playing the Pucking Game
“I could drink,” Handsy mutters, although there’s no excitement on his face.
Everyone might have sucked tonight, but Handsy always takes it worse when he’s the one letting the opponents get pucks past him.
“On us, man,” Killer says, slapping him on the shoulder.
“You coming, Big D?” I ask, turning to Kodie, who’s unlacing his skates beside me.
“Nah, I’m not feeling it.”
“Fuck that,” Killer barks. “Those who lose together, party together.”
“And I know exactly where to go,” Brit pipes up.
“Oh Christ,” Handsy mutters. “It better not be like the last place you dragged us to.”
Brit holds his hands up. “It’s not a country bar, I swear. No line dancing.”
I can’t help but laugh as I recall the night in question.
“We need a do-over because Kodie didn’t come. I think he’d look killer in a cowboy hat and boots.”
“Fuck off, Storm,” Kodie grunts.
“If we can promise no cowboys or dancing, will you come?” Killer asks with a pathetic pout.
“If your girl was here, you know she wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
“She would if I promised to make a night in my hotel room worthwhile.”
“Our hotel room,” I point out.
“Not when Casey is here,” Kodie mutters.
“Whatever. You’re coming, end of.”
Kodie shakes his head before stripping down and heading toward the showers.
“Well, I think he’s excited,” I state once he’s disappeared.
It’s almostthree hours later when I’m dragging Kodie out of our hotel room, on the promise that he can leave early to have phone sex with Casey before I get back and ruin his game.
“I hate nightclubs,” he mutters as the elevator descends.
“Oh, really? You’ve never mentioned it before,” I quip.
When we spill out into the hotel lobby, we find the team waiting for us. Killer and Monroe have done a solid job at stopping them all from moping in their rooms tonight.
“What are we waiting for?” I ask, more than ready to put today—hell, this whole trip—behind me.
If it weren’t for Parker, then it could have ended very differently.
So could the season, if your injury got worse…
“Ubers are outside; we’re just waiting for our last few,” Killer announces.
“Who?” I ask. Everyone’s here.
But then, behind me, the elevator dings and the doors open.
