Angie squeezes closer, brown eyes gazing up at me with so much love it steals the rest of my words. I only hold out the tiny glass and clink it with everyone else’s.
“Cheers.” Marcus and Harper echo, drinking their shots before setting down the empty glasses and sucking on the limes. Marcus pats me on the back and says, “Now, if you’ll excuse us, the lady and I are getting out of here.”
“Night!” Harper’s giggles can be heard as the two of them rush out of the bar.
“So much for celebrating with him,” I mutter, shaking my head at how loved up my best friend is.
“Will I do?” Angie sinks more into my side.
“Do?” I lift her into my arms and set her on the barstool. “Let me get the check and I’m taking you straight to bed.”
I flag down our bartender and get the bill.
“I’m down for some fun, I promise,” Angie says around a yawn.
“Okay, Miss Brooks-Young. You’re the picture of wanting to party right now.”
“You want to go out? I can go out.” Angie tries to stand, but one push of my finger and she’s collapsing back onto the stool.
Grabbing some bills out of my wallet, I hand them to the bartender and grab Angie’s hand.
“The only place we’re going is to our room.”
“Party for two?” She waggles her brows at me as she skips ahead.
“With you? Every night is a party.”
“Aww, you know how to say the sweetest things.”
The hotel lobby is quiet as the elevator doors slide open and we step in. It’s blissfully empty.
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her toward me and lean against the elevator wall. Angie’s brown eyes are tired. I know she stayed out late tonight just for me, and it makes me love her all the more for it.
“I’m so glad you were here today.”
“There is nowhere else I’d rather be, Troy. Watching you play is one of my favorite things in the world.”
“Really?”
Angie circles a finger around the buttons on my shirt. Ididn’t change after we left the game. We came straight to the bar for our celebration. “You should know how much I love watching you play by now.”
“I never thought I’d convert you to a hockey fan,” I laugh.
“I’m a fan of yours. If you played competitive dodgeball, I’d be a fan of the sport.”
“You know you’re going to have to be at every game from now on, right?”
“Every game?” She quirks a brow up at me before burrowing into my arms.
“Can’t blame a guy for wanting to have the woman he loves around. You’re my good luck charm.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in that?”
The elevator dings and opens up on our floor. I have my arm around Angie’s waist to keep her upright. Both of us are ready to pass out.
Pulling the keycard out of my wallet, I hold it over the door until it beeps and lets us in. We go about getting ready for bed, exhaustion blanketing us. Between the travel and the game, we’re running on fumes.
Grabbing the neck of my T-shirt, I pull it over my head and drop it on the couch before flopping down on the bed. Angie, in one of my SDU T-shirts, curls up next to me, one leg thrown over my hips.
