Is this what these events are really like? A chance for sad and lonely rich people to meet up and talk about themselves? If it is, I don’t intend on coming to many of these events in the future.
“Hey, gentleman. You don’t mind if I steal my friend here for a moment?” I place my hand on Carson’s shoulder.
“They don’t mind at all, do you guys?” Carson laughs. “Talk to you later.” He turns around and starts toward the exit as fast as he can. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he rushes out once we’ve stepped into the back garden. “I swear I’m trying, man. I’m trying to be the best boy ever, but I was seconds from taking the champagne flute, breaking it, and using it to stab that fucker in the neck. He wouldn’t stop talking about the number of women he had at his vacation home over the summer. Listen, I like a pretty lady just as much as the next guy, but I don’t see them as toys or something to be used. He does, and I hate guys like him.”
“What an asshole,” I growl. “Guess the old lady I was talking to wasn’t so bad.”
“Can we go back to the hotel now? Pleaseee?” He pleads. “I’ve tried to talk up our team, I really have. I managed conversations with a few important investors, but I think that's the best we’re going to get. These Hollywood fuckers only care about themselves. If I ever become a pompous rich man, kick me in the balls.”
“I think I can do that.” I chuckle. “Same goes for me.”
“Gladly.” He grins.
“Alright, yeah, we can go back to the hotel. I think nearly two hours here is good enough.”
“Thank fuck.”
“Leaving so soon?” Carson lifts his lip in a sneer, eyes locked on someone behind me. “Can’t even make it through a charity event? And you call yourselves professionals.” The voice behind me snorts.
“Go away, Demon,” Carson growls. “We’ve been avoiding you all night. Let’s keep it that way.”
“I’m just out here to get fresh air.” Damien Clark, the goalie for the Royal Alphas, raises his hands. “It’s a free country.”
Every team in the KP is our rival. But this guy? We fucking despise him. He always manages to rub it in any time their teamwins. When our guys are just trying to have a drink after a game against his team, he’s there with some of his guys being a cocky asshole.
Even on the ice, with every block he makes, he’s taunting our team.
We’re not that special, he does it with every team. It’s why we call him Damien the Demon.
“Well, go breathe somewhere else. We were here first,” Carson huffs.
Damien’s lip twitches. “What are you, five?”
“What do you want?” I ask him, narrowing my eyes.
“From you? Nothing.” He grins, leaning against the brick wall. “Well, at least not now. In a few weeks, I want your loss.” He chuckles.
“Not fucking happening,” I growl. “Scented Scorpions are going to kick the Royal Alphas asses.”
“Oh yeah?” He chuckles. “Didn’t you say that last time? And the time before that? Oh, and the time before that.”
Carson growls, taking a step forward. My arm snaps out, holding him back by the chest.
“It’s not worth it, Car. It’s what he wants. There are reporters in there. If we get into a fight, it’s going to be all over the news.”
“Shame.” Damien sighs, pushing off the wall. “I love a good fight. Don’t get to do that on the ice.” He winks and turns around. “Later, boys,” he calls out. “Next time you see me, I’ll be blocking all your shots.”
“Fucking asshole,” Carson growls. “God, I hate that guy.”
“Yeah, so do I.” I sigh.
“Ready to go?” Carson asks.
“Yeah, let’s go before we bump into anyone else we don’t like.”
“Addison!” Someone shouts. “Where are you?”
My brows pull inward, eyes searching the darkness of the backyard. The light from the building illuminates enough to be able to get around in the dark well, but it’s still hard to make things out.
