I look up and see a woman at the other end of the bar flashing a suggestive smile at me before she walks off.
Another woman walks up to the bar and grabs a napkin. She plucks a cherry from her drink glass and licks it, holding eye contact with me the entire time. Then she winks at me.
I give her a small smile before looking back down at my phone. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her walk off.
“You’re not going after her?” Xander asks.
I shake my head while texting Ellie.
“Wow. That’s a first.”
I slide my phone in my pocket and take another sip of my beer. “You make it sound like all I do is prowl parties for women to hook up with.”
They both stare at me.
“That’s exactly what you do,” Xander says.
I open my mouth to speak, but I don’t say anything. Because they’re right. That’s what I’d be doing normally. But right now I’m having a good time texting Ellie while just hanging out.
Honestly, I wish she were here. It would be fun to see her.
Both Blomdahl and Xander chuckle when I don’t say anything. I just roll my eyes.
“Did I miss something funny?”
I look up and see Alanna, head of the team’s public relations department, standing at the bar with a glass of wine.
“We’re just stunned that Connors gave up the chance to chat up a woman who was giving him ‘I want to sleep with you’ eyes,” Blomdahl says.
Alanna rolls her eyes before giving me a pointed look. “Maybe that means you’re turning a corner.”
Alanna isn’t my biggest fan because of my behavior off the ice. I can’t say that I blame her. When I’m not playing hockey, I like to have a good time, which means partying. A lot of partying. And I get a little wild sometimes.
Like that pool party I attended a few months ago for a TikTok star’s birthday. I ended up skinnydipping with two dozen people, mostly women. Photos of me naked ended up all over social media and gossip websites.
And that one time I was caught making out with two women at a new upscale bar in the city last year. Pictures of me that night went viral when it came out that one of the women was the wife of a major league baseball player.
A pang of regret hits me. I had no idea she was married. She wasn’t wearing a ring and didn’t mention she was taken. I wouldn’t have fooled around with her if I had known.
“You’re not still mad about that body shot thing, are you?” I joke, pushing aside how awful I feel for hooking up with a married woman. Earlier this year, the Bashers team owner, Greg Macer, held a charity gala. Late into the night, things got a little wild, and I was filmed doing body shot off one of the bartenders.
Alanna’s annoyed frown doesn’t budge. “Of course I’m still mad. So is the team owner.”
“Someone offered to donate ten thousand dollars if I did a body shot. How could I say no? It was for charity,” I say in a lighthearted tone.
Alanna’s frown sharpens, unfazed by my charm. I tug at the collar of my dress shirt, feeling the heat of how embarrassing a lot of my behavior has been.
She requests a shot of tequila from the bartender, then downs it. “You’re my full-time job, Camden,” she mutters before wiping her mouth with a napkin and turning to Xander.
“I heard the big news from the coaching staff. Congrats, Captain.”
Xander grins. “Thanks.”
Blomdahl pats his shoulder in congratulations. I raise my glass.
“I honestly never thought I’d be team captain,” Xander says. “Never thought I had what it takes.”
“You do, man. We all think that,” Blomdahl says. I nod along.
