He’s wrong.“Where do you come up with all this shit, Johnny? There is no way she’s into me. Even if she was, how the hell do I get her to stop thinking I’m just some spoiled rich kid who only cares about money and myself?”
He sets our drinks on the bar and throws a towel over his shoulder. “Keep showing her you’re more than that. Give her a window into the side of you no one else gets to see.”
I blink. That’s what my dad said. That’s what Hannah said.Maybe that’s what the body-invading alpha biker bro was trying to tell me, too.My ribcage is assaulted from the pulsing behind it, anticipation spreading through my body like the lastfew seconds in the penalty box. “You know what, Johnny? I changed my mind. I’ll take that scotch and Splenda after all.”
He flashes me a wicked grin, grabs a glass already waiting with Splenda, adds in the ice and scotch, and slides it across the bar with a wink. I take a sip, knocking back a bit of liquid courage.
Time to stop being a little bitch and date the shit out of Kennedy Kramer.
As I weave through the crowd toward the big group table, I see Kennedy wedged between Olivia and Maggie. I stand across from her, setting the glass on the table and sliding it her way.
Olivia practically jumps out of her chair as I look for a place to sit. “Jordan…here! I’m gonna go sit with Hayes. You can have my seat.”
Heat crawls across my cheeks as little smirks light up the faces of all her friends. There isno onein the entire universe who loves playing matchmaker more than the Milwaukee Steel Riders and their significant others. I walk around the table to sit next to Kennedy. Everyone else is deep in conversation, clinking glasses, and celebrating our win. But my mind is not on the next round of hockey. It’s focused on one thing—figuring out how the hell to show Kennedy the real me. I wish I could just say ‘hey, I’m not really the rich fuckboy you think I am.’
Shit…maybe that would be easier.
“You changed your drink,” Kennedy says, surprising the hell out of me. “Johnny seemed pretty shocked by your water order. Is this what you normally get? You drank a cabernet in Dallas. Are you a big wine drinker?”
I smile; the thought of her remembering my drink order makes my heart pound in my chest. “I do like wine. Sometimes I have a glass to help me get to sleep. But after a win, my go-to order is a scotch and Splenda.”
“Ha! Like Michael Scott on The Office?”
I laugh. “Yeah, you’re a fan?”
“Who isn’t? I don’t even work in an office, but it’s such a funny show.” She tips her glass toward me. “I guess you don’t work in a typical work environment either.”
“You’ve been to my office. Just ice, sticks, and sweat. And a grumpy goalie who rivals Stanley Hudson with his short dialect and brooding nature.”
Her eyes sparkle as she lets out a roaring laugh. “Dear lord! Vladi really is a real-life Stanley, isn’t he? I can just picture him saying, ‘Did I stutter?’” She leans in close, heat radiating from her body to mine as she whispers, “Do you think he likes pretzel day?”
We both burst into a fit of giggles as her hand rests on my arm. I glance at the delicate flesh touching mine, goosebumps quickly spreading across my skin, meeting her gaze as I look back up. The air thickens as her joy fades into a sweet smile, and I match it with my own.Maybe Johnny was right. Does she have a thing for?—
“Hey, Bougie!” The moment is interrupted by EJ shouting down the table. “We’re gonna go to 414 after this. Can you hook us up with bottle service?”
Kennedy tilts her head, her gaze darting between my loudmouth teammate and me. “Jordan…” she whispers, looking me dead in the eye, my stomach twisting like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. “Why is Erik asking you for free drinks at Club 414?”
Shit.Fucking EJ. I’m gonna swap out his laces for some hideous ones next practice.
I shrug. “EJ’s just a big mooch. Never wants to pay for anything,” I say, shooting laser beams at EJ. “Buy your own drinks tonight, asshole! That salary extension’s burning a hole in your pocket.”
There. Problem solved.
Until dickface opens his mouth again. “Oh, come on, Bougie! You own the damn club; you can’t hook your teammates up? Lame!”
I slowly face Kennedy, her lips pursed, and her jaw clenched tighter than I thought physically possible.
“You own Club 414? As in…own it,own it?”
I flash a cringy smile, my heart plummeting to the floor.Yet another example of me having a lot of money that I’m sure she’ll hate.“Would you believe me if I said no? That it was a gift I inherited from a long-lost relative?”
She shifts in her seat to face me, crossing her arms.This can’t be good. “No. Spill it.”
“Okay. Yes. I own Club 414. Along with a few other businesses around Milwaukee and Canada.”
Her expression doesn’t change, but my pulse fires on all cylinders, wondering how she’s going to react. My tongue wets my lips, and I can see the wheels spinning as if she’s trying to put the pieces together. I see when it finally clicks, spots dancing across my vision.
“Wait…when I was there celebrating Benny’s last day, my bill was covered by the owner…”
