Page 53 of Golden Goal

We thank her, and I follow Sutton to the bar. She orders a glass of wine. I ask for sparkling water and lime. As we’re waiting for the bartender to pour our drinks, a commotion breaks out behind us.

“I’m not here for the event. Just one of your participants,” says a voice with a British accent that I recognize.

Sutton stiffens next to me, drawing in a sharp breath as she spins around. I turn too and spot Sebastian. Why is one of the defenseman for the Storm here?

“There she is,” he says, shooting a cheeky grin at Sutton as he attempts to walk around the check-in table and over to us.

“I’m sorry, sir, the bar is closed for the next two hours for a private event.”

“Sebastian,” Sutton barks out.

She grabs her glass of wine from the bar and stalks over to where he and the event organizer are glaring at each other, having a silent battle. I follow behind because there’s no way in hell I’m missing this.

“What are you doing here? How did you know I was here?” she asks Sebastian.

“The walls have ears, love.” He winks at her. “You want to date someone, I’m available. Why are you wasting a Friday night speed dating?” He holds out his arms, his tattoos on full display, his blue eyes twinkling.

“I told you I can’t date you,” she hisses.

“One date, that’s all I’m asking for.” He holds up one finger.

“No. Go home, Sebastian,” she tells him.

“I can’t do that, love.”

She huffs at him before stalking away. He raises his eyebrows at me as if asking for my help, and I give him a little shake of my head before turning to follow her back to the bar.

I don’t get very far when I hear him say, “Sign me up.”

This night just got a lot more interesting.

By the time I make my way back to where Sutton is leaning on the bar, she’s already finished her glass of wine.

“Fucking egotistical hockey player. Thinks he can get whatever he wants,” she mutters.

“I think it was sweet.” I take a sip of my drink.

She glares at me. “Whose side are you on, Rebecca?”

“Yours, of course. I’m only saying . . .”

Before Sutton can say anything else, the organizer waves her hands to get our attention and explains how the next few hours will go. Each woman will sit at the table with her number on it, and every five minutes, the bell will ring, and a new guy will approach the table, also assigned a number. The ladies will circle the numbers of the guys they are interested in, and the guys will circle the numbers of the ladies they are interested in. At the end, she’ll correlate the matches and either email us with the names and contact information of our matches, or bring them around to us if we opt to hang out.

I find my seat at table three, next to Sutton, who’s at table four, and take a deep breath, back to being nervous.

Two hours later, I’m all talked out and will probably need three to five business days to recover. It wasn’t terrible. I enjoyed chatting with a few of the guys. Plus, Sebastian was a hoot. I haven’t really gotten to know him that well, not that I know any of the other players that well either. Well, except for Holt. But that’s because we’re neighbors. Sebastian and I spent most of the five minutes talking about England—since it’s a place I’ve always wanted to go—and hockey. Because of course we discussed hockey. I swear the entire time we were chatting, he couldn’t take his eyes off Sutton.

I thought he was going to deck one of the other guys at one point because he touched Sutton’s hand. I wonder if there’s history between them I don’t know about. I’m curious why he’s pursuing her so hard. Why she doesn’t want to date him, although I swear I saw her checking him out a few times tonight.

“Any guys you were interested in?” I ask Sutton as we walk up to the bar after turning in our slips to the organizer.

“A couple.”

The bartender comes over to us, and Sutton orders another glass of wine, and I ask for a glass of water.

“What about you?” she asks, taking a sip of her wine.

I sigh. None, but I didn’t want to be the one woman who didn’t circle any of the numbers. It’s not that they weren’t nice. They were all fine. Some better than fine, but no one I felt any chemistry with. Not the way I did with Holt. But I can’t date him. Besides, I only want a guy to go out with casually. Maybe go back to his place. I don’t want anything serious. I ended up circling the numbers of two guys I thought had the most potential to be agreeable to what I’m looking for.