“So, you’re Harper’s girl.” Oliver beams, showing off his mischievous grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, dipping his head a little. “Did your boy tell you the rules?”
“Rules?” she repeats.
“If you’re going to be part of our Tornado squad, you’re gonna need a nickname.”
“You want me to have a n-nickname?” she stammers, and my stomach flips, the height of her vulnerability hitting me harder than I expect.
“Of course,” Hayes exclaims. “‘Part of the ship, part of the crew.’”
“Pirates of the Caribbean,” Erin replies.
“Bingo.” Hayes grins.
“Um, okay,” Erin mutters. “What are your nicknames?”
Oliver grins. “Flashheart,” he says, patting his chest. “Fastest skater in the league, and a lover in the?—”
“Stinger,” Austin says, cutting Oliver off with a shove. “Step into my crease and you’ll get stung. Goalie,” he adds.
“Papa Bear. I’m the glue that holds this whole mess together,” Hayes says with a shrug, his tone playful.
“And the voice of reason,” I say, nudging Erin with my elbow.
“Yeah, someone’s gotta be.” Hayes smirks back, a little twinkle in his eye.
“He’s the dad of the group.” Oliver grins. “The ladies go feral for him, but he’s not a real DILF…yet.”
Laughter spills out of Erin, easing some of the tension in the air. I catch myself watching her, enjoying how she fits in like she’s always belonged here.
“What about Rudy?” she asks.
“Pouty, especially when he’s missing out,” Austin responds.
Erin turns to face me, eyes sparkling. “And you?”
Oliver jumps in without offering an explanation. “Pretty Boy.”
“Pretty Boy.”She hums approvingly.
“Hey,” I say, leaning closer. “It’s Eighty-Seven to you,Bookworm.”
Or feel free to call me your future boyfriend. Hell, I don’t care what you call me. As long as it’s yours, I’ll be pretty damn happy.
“So, Erin. What will it be?” Oliver asks.
Her nose scrunches as she thinks, and it’s damn cute watching her concentrate on a silly detail like a nickname.
“I like night the most,” she says. “I like being cozy and surrounded by blankets and cushions. “And books. I like books.”
Now all I can think about is a very naked Erin, lying in my bed wearing nothing but my bedsheets as she reads.
Fuck, that’s hot.
“Can you help?” she asks Oliver.
Oliver snaps his fingers. “Got it. Welcome to the club, Night Owl.”
It gets a nod of approval from Hayes and a double thumbs-up from Austin.
