I smile. “Other than kicking butt at a second career as CEOs, you and Kaz were rockstars on the ice.”
Erik taps his left leg. “My glory days as a hockey player are behind me. It was a tremendous blow both physically and emotionally. Hockey was my life.”
I didn’t mean for my comment to bring back bad memories.
I shift my stance. “Granted, I’ve never watched a hockey game in my life?—”
“You might as well plunge the blade of a pair of skates in my heart.” Erik clenches his chest and staggers back a few steps.
I shrug. “I prefer my hockey between the pages of a romance book.”
His lips form a thin line. “Not the same thing.”
I tilt my head side to side. “It’s better because hockey fictional heroes are men written by women, and by definition, they’rewaybetter than real hockey players.”
He rolls his eyes.
I giggle. “What I was trying to say is since your dad was an NFL superstar, you didn’t want to follow in his footsteps?”
“I blame my mom for my love of hockey,” he says. “My grandfather and uncles are diehard fans. I’m talking about the bunch of loudmouths who show up at every game with face painted with their team’s colors, making a ruckus every time there’s a score against the other team.”
“Did they do that when you were playing?”
“Yup. Not embarrassing at all.” He narrows his eyes. “You should’ve seen them during the playoffs.” He lets out a dramatic sigh. “When I was selected to be part of Team USA at the Olympics, they fucking lost their everloving minds. Every single member of my family traveled to watch the game in person—including my grandparents who had never left the country.”
I laugh.
“I’m poking fun at my family, but their unwavering support meant everything during my career,” he says. “The other reason why I chose hockey is because I loved the game and becoming pro wouldn’t subject me to always being compared to my old man.”
“You escaped Kaz’s unfortunate fate.”
“The poor guy had to live with that monkey on his back his whole career.” He shakes his head. “Speaking of your soon to be boss, he’s on his way.”
Boss. Roommate. Fake boyfriend. Stepdad I’d like to fuck. Kaz is accumulating the titles.
“Grazie Mille’s owner must be cursing the day he ever bought that restaurant,” I say.
Erik nods. “Talk about a string of bad luck. After his crooked manager was arrested, and he fired the bartender with sticky fingers, he had to frantically search for an interim manager to oversee the staff. Now, the Brazilian owner is dealing with a faulty hood ventilation system. Under Kaz’s order, the staff shut down the restaurant due to the smoke pouring into the dining room.”
Kaz’s text was succinct. I had no idea he was dealing with this much.
“After all the upheaval, it’s no surprise the owner wants to sell,” Erik says.
“Poor guy—” From my peripheral vision I catch a glimpse of a figure. Ice thickens in my veins. “Oh no.”
“What is it?” Erik turns around.
Chett struts towards the building’s entrance, a model-tall redhead in a stunning blue flowy dress hanging from his arm, who I’m sure is from a prominent hockey family. He’s too eager to flash his pearly whites at the press flanking the red carpet to notice me.
“I’m surprised to see him here,” Erik says. “In the last four years he’s been invited to this charity event, he’s never bothered to show up, preferring to send his mother. What caused this change of heart?”
Good question.
I was prepared for Devlyn’s snarky remarks and condescending stares, but I wasn’t prepared to come face to face with Chett.
I glance up at Erik. “I was planning on steering far away from Kaz’s ex-wife. I plan on doing the same with my ex-boyfriend. When Chett’s had too many drinks, his asshole meter goes way up.” My lips curl in disgust.
Erik shakes his head. “Hischarmingpersonality—drunk or sober—stems from his enabler of a mother who never told him no.” He takes a step closer. “The weird codependent relationship he has with Devlyn was enough for Kaz to want a divorce thirty days into the marriage.”
