Awkward silence.
Fuck. This might be harder than I thought it would be.
Even though it was a short trip to St. Louis tonight, we’re flying out on a quick road trip out west before coming home.
Meaning it’s our first night together as roommates. The first of many. We need something to break the ice.
Glancing around the hotel room—one that doesn’t have water spots and has bedspreads that actually might keep you warm—I spot the minibar.
“Do you want something to drink?”
Graham blows out a breath. “Oh, fuck yes.”
Snorting a laugh, I head to the minibar and grab a handful of tiny bottles. Even if it won’t get us drunk, it’ll at least help take the edge off.
“I’ll take the bourbon if there’s one,” Graham tells me.
Dropping half a dozen or so bottles on the bed, I grab two of the same and hand one to him. “At least you have good taste in booze.”
“Cheers to that.”
We clink bottles, unscrew the caps, and knock them back.
“Damn. That feels good.”
Graham wipes his lips before holding out his hand for another.
“Easy.” I hand him one of the golden bottles of rum. “This is all we’ve got.”
“You know,” Graham starts, “we could always go to the bar and get an actual drink.”
I flop back onto the bed, kicking my shoes off. “Nah. I’m good hanging out up here.”
Graham takes a spot on his bed, mirroring my position. “I am too. There’s something about not having to be on with all the guys.”
“Really? I thought you’d be all about that.”
Graham shifts, sitting at the edge of the bed, propped back on his elbows. “Why’s that?”
“Because it’s the start of your third season. You don’t want to be out sowing your wild oats?”
Bursting out in laughter, Graham sips on his drink. “What are you, eighty? You sound like Gigi.”
“I swear, your grandma can get away with anything.” I laugh.
“Actually, I don’t think Gigi would say that. She’d just say why aren’t you out picking people up at the clubs? She’d be disappointed the two of us are up here and not going out.”
“I’m well past that point in my career. Why don’t you want to go out with the guys?”
Graham grabs another bottle and takes a small sip. “I don’t know. It’s never been my thing. I always wanted to focus on hockey.”
“Guess that’s one thing we have in common.”
“My dad always said it’s the most important thing. Don’t get caught up in the lifestyle and forget why you’re there.”
I laugh, sipping on a bottle of vodka. It’s cheap, burning as it goes down. But it helps to loosen my tongue. “Maybe we should remind Bode of that.”
“By the time he’s done with his career, he’ll have slept with every woman in Nashville.”
