Page 2 of Power Move
His version of the body spray has notes of pine and cedar. Sandwiched with Remy and Morgan, I’m choking on clouds of simulated nature. Drawing away so Remy can hug the others, something subtle, yet rich catches me, a hint of spice that beckons. I turn my head to follow the scent, and it leads me to the man sitting closest to me.
Rhys Farrell. Star defenseman for the Metros. Though he’s been out of the lineup since early in their season, thanks to an injured shoulder.
Our gazes collide as he rises from his seat. A zing rushes through me. We’re so close, I have to crane my neck to keep holding his gaze. I’m five-foot-seven, the shortest guy on my team, and he has to be at least six-foot-four. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles. They’re deep set, blue edging toward gray, like a storm at sea.
My breath catches and gets stuck in my lungs. Rhys’s presence pulls me in until it feels like he’s the only thing in vivid color and detail. The overhead lights tease out bright copper sparks in his thick, auburn hair. A close-cropped beard a few shades darker than his hair surrounds full lips. His white sweater makes him seem even larger, settling over the peaks and dips of his muscles, hinting at the strength and power banked beneath the soft knit.
He extends his hand and envelopes mine in a hot, firm grasp. “Hi, I’m Rhys.”
“Sage.” My voice is raspy. He looks and smells amazing, and I feel like a wind-swept wreck in Morgan’s coat that’s too big for me, a shirt that’s half-untucked, and boots dotted with remnants of rock salt thanks to our walk to the bar. My ears, nose, lips, and fingers are still thawing out from the cold, yet my cheeks are burning up. Thanks to the wind and Morgan messing with my hair, I worry I’ve morphed into my mad scientist look, as Soren calls it.
Behind me, Remy makes the introductions. Jonas, Maxim, and Quinn’s voices mix with my teammates.
“And this is Sage Murray.” Remy thumps my shoulder.
Startled, I drop Rhys’s hand. Fresh heat stinging my face, I wave at the group. “Hey.”
The three Metros shake my hand. Rhys pushes out the chair beside his and gestures for me to sit. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Uh. You have?” Guard up, I lower myself into the chair. Then shrug off my coat. “Good things, I hope.”
“Good things.” The twinkle in his eyes is charming. “You’re giving Remy guitar lessons?”
“Oh, yeah. Since last summer. He’s getting really good.” I give Remy an upward nod, accepting the whiskey sour he passes me. “He started teaching me piano first. It helped with rehabbing my wrist after I injured it in the playoffs last year.”
Maxim leans over the table, swiping a slider from the platter in the middle. “You play guitar? I do too. But I don’t think I’d have the patience to teach someone else.”
Seated beside the man, Quinn shoves his hand into Maxim’s shoulder, jostling him into dropping his mini-burger. “After your attempt to teach Jonas to play Mario Kart, I think we can all agree on that.”
Jonas, on Maxim’s other side, tips his beer at them. “You know it’s true, Maxie.”
Removing the slice of tomato from the slider, Maxim snorts in derision. “I swear, I’ve never seen anyone, and I include my four-year-old nephew in this, play that bad. It’s like you were deliberately screwing up.”
Grinning like he’s not the least bit repentant, Jonas rocks back in his chair. “I was.”
Maxim’s eyes go wide and he smacks Jonas in the side. “I spenthours…” As he berates him in a combination of English and French, I hide my laughter behind my glass.
Beside me, Rhys chuckles. His knuckles graze mine as he picks up his half-empty pint of Guinness. “So, you all live together?”
“Yeah.” I take a sip of my drink, savoring the warm spice and fruity notes. “Phil and Gio own the house. They live on the first floor. Remy and I have rooms on the second floor. Morgan is above us, in the attic. And Soren has the basement. We’ve been working on renovations during the summers.”
Remy plops down at my other side, snickering at Jonas and Maxim still caught in the Mario Kart argument. “Phil and Gio show us what to do, and we do it. If we have a free day during the season, we might tackle an easy project, but since I’ve been up with you guys, our schedules haven’t meshed. Until tonight.”
Aside from Remy, a few of our Slash teammates have been called up this season, but Remy’s the only one playing with the Metros now. I want to get a call up more than anything, though I don’t like the idea of someone else having to get sick or injured or be playing poorly for that to happen.
Tingles of attraction sparking through me, I focus on Rhys. “Have to say, I’m a big fan. I love watching you play.”
“Thanks.” He smiles, but his gaze drops to his glass and he rolls his injured shoulder. I wonder if it’s an unconscious movement.
Remy elbows my side. Beneath the table, he subtly points to Rhys and me then gives a thumbs up. With a smile and nod, he twists in his seat to talk to Phil and Gio, leaving Rhys and me to each other.
What the… Is this a set up? Warm fire flares through my body at the thought. Remy’s a romantic, so I wouldn’t be surprised if this was the motive behind tonight’s invite. He probably knew how nervous and freaked out I’d be if he’d told me beforehand.
My heart beating faster, I set my glass down, turning it so the facets catch the light. “Can I ask, how’s your recovery coming?”
Rhys’s smile is beaming. “Today, I got the green light to resume playing.”
“That’s great. Congratulations. Bet you can’t wait to get back.”
