Page 102 of Hot Puck
That was when Natalie Redding finally broke free of her suffocating existence and lived, became the woman I am today.
The COO of a billion-dollar global sportswear brand, owner and GM of a professional hockey team.
With a grin I bring the bottle to my lips again. The cold liquid fills my mouth, popping on my tongue, then sliding down my throat with ease. I’m more of a red wine drinker, but this isn’t so bad.
Maybe my dislike of champagne has more to do with my past than taste. With a shrug, I walk toward the bedroom. I need a shower before I crawl into bed and catch a few hours of sleep.
Chase remains motionless as I make my way through the bedroom; the sight of him sprawled out on the bed makes me stop and smile. I hope he isn’t hungover in the morning. I don’t even know if he’s ever been this drunk before.
It’s not a year since he’s been legally allowed to drink, and I know everyone sneaks beers or whatever before that, but I’m not sure if he did.
His sole focus was hockey. Until he was forced to take on the responsibility of his sisters. I frown.
Things could have been so different for the Hawkins siblings. If I hadn’t?—
I shake my head.
No. They would have found their feet. Chase would have gotten back on the path of his lifelong dream.
But he wouldn’t be passed out on that bed after a night of celebrating his game winning goal. And it isn’t only the game he won for the Rogues.
He put us in contention for the Cup.
The Cup!
Our first year in the league and we’re in the Cup final!
I’m not sure I believe it yet. At the start of the year—hell, when the franchise was announced—no one could have predicted the team would do this well. We were definitely the underestimated, unwanted stepchild of the league.
Not anymore.
The league is on notice. Hell, they’ve been on notice since preseason last September when we hit the ice and won every game.
Entering the bathroom, I close the door and put the champagne on the counter. Stripping out of my clothes, I step behind the glass wall separating the shower from the rest of the room and turn the water on.
A squeak bursts from my throat when the freezing spray hits me in the face. “Dammit.” Moving back, I wait for steam to rise before getting back under the spray. And grab the bottle of bubbles while I’m at it.
There’s a convenient shelf to place the bottle on while I wash off. I don’t bother washing my hair, I can do that in the morning, but I use the vanilla scented soap the hotel supplies to rinse away the day.
I’ve got my back to the spray, the warm water rushing over my tired muscles, letting it soothe the tension left over from the final moments of the game as I once again reach for the champagne.
Putting it to my mouth, I tip my head back and wait for the cool liquid to hit my tongue.
Lowering the bottle, I stare at it. “Huh.”
Flipping it upside down, I watch one final drop fall to the floor, mixing with the water flowing down the drain.
“Well, damn. I drank it all.”
It’s only then I notice the slightly woozy sensation taking me over. Well, double damn. I think I’ve gotten myself in the same position as my star goalie.
With a laugh, I shut off the water and press a hand to the wall when my legs wobble. It isn’t until I’m in the cooler air of the bathroom that it really hits me.
“Shit. I think I’m drunk.” A giggle escapes me and the sound echoing around me only makes me giggle more.
I don’t bother drying off, I just giggle my way into the bedroom and fall into bed.
Chase
