* * *
I settle in at one of the long tables in the Pizza Zone. I’m starved to the point where I don’t care if there’s any available women around. I can always hit a club later with some of the single guys. Hell, maybe I’ll drag Kirby out. He can be the designated driver.
Content that I won’t be stuck here all night, I grab a pitcher of beer near me and fill an empty glass. I take a long pull, relishing the taste of a good IPA.
Banger sits across from me with Gardenia and the boys. I grin and fist-bump with Banger’s two little hellions. I like his kids. They’re spunky, and they’re entertaining. Even better, they’re not mine, so I can walk away when I’ve had enough.
Kirby takes the seat to one side of me, and a blond kid takes the chair on the other side. I smile at him before I realize he’s my archenemy’s nephew. Well, the poor boy can’t help who his aunt is. I frown when Aria sits next to him.
How the fuck did I end up at the same table as her? In fact, what the hell is she doing at a team party? I glower in Gardenia’s direction, assuming she’s the guilty party. She winks and nudges Banger. The bastard snickers. I’ve been had. I glance around for Koko to take this woman off my hands, but he’s already moved on to a new conquest, and is not the least bit interested in a woman with a child. I can’t say I blame him.
Kirby looks past me and holds out a hand. “I’m Kirby. Who are you, little man?”
“Noah,” announces the kid. He’s clearly starstruck sitting in this room with all these players. I can’t imagine how I’d feel at his age. I probably wouldn’t hold it together as well as he does.
They fist-bump, and I feel obligated to introduce myself. “I’m Drakos.”
“I know. You’re my very favorite player. I want to play just like you when I make the NHL.”
“Do you, now?” I’m amused. The kid is ballsy. I’ll give him that.
“Would both of you sign my jersey?”
“Noah, leave Kirby and Drakos alone. They didn’t come here to be badgered.” Aria avoids my gaze but acknowledges Kirby.
“I don’t mind.” I give her a smug smile, and she shrugs. Someone produces a Sharpie, and Noah turns away from me so I can sign the back of his jersey. Kirby does the same.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Kirby’s expression is open and friendly, but I’m guarded and suspicious.
“Not a problem.” I smirk in Aria’s direction, and she scowls. She clearly doesn’t like me associating with her nephew. I realize it wasn’t her choice to sit at my table. Noah took the initiative, and she couldn’t do anything about it without making a scene, not that that’s ever stopped her before.
Regardless, I’m suspicious regarding how she’ll use any information she garners tonight against the guys and me. I ignore her and pepper Noah with questions. Not because the answers matter, but because talking to her nephew appears to irritate the hell out of her.
“Mr. Drakos, could you teach me how to do a slap shot like you?” Noah ducks his head, as if embarrassed he’s made such a bold request.
“Sure, I can do that. Maybe sometime when we’re both at the rink.”
“Wow. That’d be great.”
“Noah, why don’t you, Rowan, and Ryder play video games? Here’s some cash for the machines.” Aria effectively ends my conversation with her nephew.
Koko puts on music, and the place starts rocking. We’re a boisterous bunch heading for our first playoffs as Icehawks, and not even Aria can destroy the high I’m currently riding. Once the boys are gone, she moves to the chair next to me. I meet her gaze, curious what her nefarious intentions are.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d avoid speaking with my nephew.” She grinds out the words as if she’s biting back what she really wants to say.
“That’d be rude, wouldn’t it? You want me to be rude to him? He’s just a little boy.”
“You’re fucking right he’s just a little boy. I don’t need you breaking his heart by making promises you won’t keep.”
“Who says I’ll break my promise? I always keep my promises, but you wouldn’t know anything about integrity, would you?”
She cringes for a split second before recovering quickly. My comment crosses the line, and I know it. I can’t take it back, and I’m not apologizing to someone whose mission is to make my life a living hell.
“Fancy you lecturing me on integrity.” Her glare is a direct challenge.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
