“No Trailblazers?”
He shrugged. “I have no idea who they’re inviting. But I thought you could see how the other half lives if you want. If not, I’m game to hang at my place. Or downtown if you want.”
“A hockey party. One where the players go, where I’m invited. And my brothers aren’t.” Her evil laugh enchanted him. “Hell, yes. Hold on.”
She pulled out her phone and Facetimed someone. “Hey, Steve.”
Her brother, Will, Jeff, and Ed stared back at her from what looked like Ed’s house.
“Marlie, why haven’t you answered my calls?” Steve whined.
Marlie flipped the view around and showed off the suite, including Damon and some people down on the ice.
Her brothers were all talking at once, excited at having watched the Raptors’ victory, in addition to their “coach” giving a speech to the thousands in attendance. They also demanded he not be late for Sunday’s game.
“Yeah, yeah,” Marlie agreed. “Oh, and we’re invited to a party tonight at… Damon, where are we going?”
“Ford and McClusky’s bachelor pad. They’re pigs, but it’ll be fun. I think.”
Her brothers all started talking at once again, but Marlie soon hung up on them and ignored the ringing of her phone.
“You’re evil,” he told her.
“I know. But they deserve it.” She paused. “Are you sure you’re okay to go to this party? You don’t sound excited.”
“Nah, it’s all good. I’ve been before. Just… Don’t be surprised by anything you see or hear.”
“Okay. Now I’m intrigued.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Marlie stared around her at a condo twice as big as Damon’s, a penthouse a few blocks over from his place in the Pearl District. Joshua Ford and Ian McClusky had been nothing but sweet, two handsome, sexy offense players both on and off the ice. Apparently, they had a reputation as ladies’ men.
Something boring Damon Sinclair refused to be, according to his agent.
Everything Mark had told her only endeared Damon to her more. Ha. The big liar was no bad boy at all. Except when in the goal cage. Mark swore Damon could be filthy rich—well, richer than he was, if only he’d embrace that demonic, crushing persona he had when playing.
But no. Damon was nice. No drama, no baby mamas or threesomes and foursomes. No orgies or scandals—which Ford and McClusky involved themselves in, keeping their handsome faces in the limelight and delighting their rich, quirky sponsors.
Everyone at the party had some tie to the Raptors. The entire first and second line had shown, with a few of the guys from the rest of the team coming later.
She and Damon had enjoyed combustible shower sex at his place before she’d dragged out her one nice outfit—a pair of slim-fitting jeans, a deep green top that clung to her and hugged her breasts, and cute boots more ornamental than functional with heels that put her only a few inches shorter than Damon.
Yet she wasn’t the only tall woman in attendance tonight.
The place was full of models, a few actors, football players she recognized, and even a pro baseball player. The hockey studs knew everyone fun in the city, apparently. And the throbbing dance music provided by the DJ, in addition to the free-flowing alcohol and snacks, added to the kickass festivities.
Damon leaned closer to her. “Is it me or is it too loud in here?”
“It’s loud. But it’s a party, grandpa. Go with it,” she teased, thinking he looked both sexy and threatening as he loomed over her, his icy eyes glaring around them at everyone.
Dressed in jeans, a nicer pair of boots than the ones he’d worn to the game, and a charcoal-gray sweater that showed off his muscular physique, Damon looked incredible. But then, maybe she was biased. He didn’t have the handsome features of his popular teammates, but his air of menace attracted people despite his intent to keep them all away.
To her bemusement, he seemed a little uncomfortable being around the crowd.
She tugged him to get his attention. “Do you want to leave?”
He blinked. “What? We just got here.”
