“Yeah? Well my stories don’t usually disappoint.” That was a bit of pointless bravado. But it was probably true.
I happened to glance toward Graham then. And even in the low light of the pizza place, I saw him freeze. And I realized just how far a little smack talk aboutstoriesI might tell would freak him out. I hadn’t meant it like that. But the effect on him was instant and powerful. His jaw went hard and his fist clenched on the table.
Easy, boy. “Tell me about the practice schedule,” I said to change the topic.
Hartley obliged, explaining the afternoon routine, including weight room, dry land training and ice time.
In the corner, Graham drained his glass and then emptied the pitcher into it.
I pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of my back pocket and put it on the table. “I’ll buy the next round.”
“I’ll go get it,” Bella said, sliding out of the booth.
“No,” Graham said quickly. “I will.” It was the first time I’d heard his voice in five years. Without a glance at either one of us, he slid that muscular body out of the booth, stepped around Bella and my chair, and headed for the counter.
He left my twenty on the table.
“So you’re a sophomore,” Bella said, her fingers sliding into my hair.
This was three beers later. I’d been occupying myself at a different table for a while, chatting with the goalies. But Bella had found me, and she was stepping up her game. I needed a strategy for discouraging her. And fast.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, shifting in my chair to buy myself a little more space. But that didn’t stop her. Because she just leaned in closer. “I should be a junior. But I took a post-grad year to play on the US development team.”
“Sweet,” one of the goalies said.
“Sweet,” Bella whispered, her fingers wandering down my ribcage.
It’s not like she was the first girl to ever hit on me. But I had to tread carefully, because I was going to see a lot of Bella this season. And she was a great girl. Smart, fun, and obviously a huge hockey fan. She had all the right stuff. She just didn’t have all the right stuff forme.
I took Bella’s hand and stood up. “Can you come with me for a minute? I could use your help with something.”
One of the goalies gave an amused snort as I led her away, toward the dark little alcove where the old pay phone was. She came with me, chin up, a happy look on her face. I got the feeling that Bella never did anything for the benefit of the way it looked to others. She gave off a vibe of being 100 percent genuine, all the time. I could think of a few people who could stand to take lessons from her. Like maybe Graham.
The second we stepped into the relative privacy of the little space, she put her hands on my waist. “What did you need?” she asked, a grin playing at her lips.
I caught her prowling fingers in mine. One at a time, I kissed her hands, which made her beam. “Listen, Bella. There’s something I need to tell you, and probably the team, too. Somehow. Because it’s going to get out.” Her face took on a more serious expression, but she didn’t look away. The calm look in her blue eyes gave me the courage to keep talking. “The truth is that I like dick just as much as you do. Maybe even more.”
Now, I’d had a certain amount of practice at delivering this news to people. It never got easy. Yet by this point, I’d seen every possible reaction to it. Bella looked momentarily confused, as people often do. But then I could almost see the synapses firing behind her eyes. Then her lips twitched. And finally, she tipped her head back and laughed. “Oh my God. You’re serious aren’t you?”
I was still holding her hands, and I gave them both a squeeze. “Would I lie about a thing like that?”
Bella took her hands back, but only to reach up to cup my face. “You are adorable. And honestly, I don’t know why this hasn’t happened sooner.”
“Sorry?”
“Rikker, hockey players arehot. The hottest. And it’s weird that other hockey players never noticed that before. Now I have to worry that you’re going to cut in on my action.”
I let out a bark of surprised laughter. “Somehow I think you’ll be okay.”
“Also, this is going to mess up a near perfect streak for me.”
“Whenever you streak, I’m sure it’s perfect,” I quipped.
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to throw me compliments. I’m a big girl.” She stood back, folding her arms. “Does this have anything to do with leaving Saint B's?”
“Hell yes. When word about me got, um,out, Coach lost his shit and threw me off the team.”
Her eyes went wide. “Why? That’s against the ACAA rules.”
