AGAINST THE ICE

Chapter22

Max smiled up at one waitress. All hot and sexy male. Did he know how gorgeous his smile was? It was lethal. The waitress touched her neck and flushed.

“Sorry that took so long,” Ola slid into the seat beside me.

“That’s okay.”

“What did I miss?”

“The Wolves just came in.”

“Ooh, where?” she twisted around, craning her neck.

I ducked my head. “Be subtle. I’d prefer it if they didn’t notice me.”

Her eyes went wide. “So, we’re spying?”

“Let’s just say we’re doing an anthropological study of a group of red-blooded, testosterone-filled males.”

“I love it.”

We ordered more drinks and talked about old friends. Ola was a connector. She knew everyone and their business. She was also the vault and could keep a secret better than anyone I knew, but anything that was public knowledge, she was happy to share.

Max laughed at something someone said.

I worked to listen to Ola, but I didn’t hear a word she said.

Two women approached the group of men. Max took a sip of his beer and glanced up at them. Both of the women had killer bodies, clad in skin-tight dresses and stiletto heels. Puck bunnies, whose main goal was to secure themselves a hockey player.

I gritted my teeth. And smiled back at Ola.

She was still talking. I worked to concentrate on her words.

Geez. Max now held one of the women’s hands and stared up at her.

Jealousy licked my soul. I forced myself to nod at Ola.

The puck bunny sat down next to Max and stared up at him.

I could feel sadness settle over me.

I blinked unseeing at Ola, while I tried to cool my reaction, but my stomach was so hard it hurt.

Ola, unaware that I wasn’t listening, continued with her story.

My eyes averted to Max. He smiled at the floor, listening while Blondie whispered something in his ear.

This was my future. I needed to accept this. Max didn’t want me. He wanted his player lifestyle.

“You’d think they’d be kicking his ass to the curb but they’re still fighting over him,” Ola finished with a flourish.

I stared at Ola as I worked to get all my erratic emotions under control.

“Are you okay?” she asked, amused. “You have that same look on your face that you did when Ruby stole your science project idea in grade 7.”

“Sorry.” I tried to focus. I needed a moment alone to think, so I didn’t blurt out my secret about Max. “I need to use the washroom. Do you know where they are?”

She pointed to the corner. To get there, I would have to walk past the Wolves.

No! I could not walk past him.

I debated suggesting to Ola that we leave, but pride wouldn’t let me. I stood up and took a deep breath. I knew I looked good with my mile-high heels and wrap-around navy dress. Yet, I felt petrified.

I survived a plane crash. I can walk to the washroom.

With my head held high, and confidence in my stride, I started the long, lonely walk past the three couches filled with the Wolves.

I focused on my phone, pretending not to see any of them. I could sense the moment they all noticed me. One by one, I could feel the group still and watch as I walked past. Nerves strummed my body but I couldn’t acknowledge them. If I did, it would force me to stop and chat, and that was not an option.

I could feel him staring at me.

I tried to resist, but I failed. I lifted my gaze and looked at him. Only him.

The cute blonde was curled up next to him, talking in his ear, but he tracked me as I walked past him.

I felt myself flush hot. I ducked my head and disappeared into the washroom.

I didn’t even need to use the washroom. I washed my hands, touched up my lipstick and gave myself a pep talk.

Max is a free agent. He can date or sleep with anyone he wants. We have a professional relationship.

I am not jealous.

My only job is to make sure he succeeds on the ice.

I patted my hair into place and then took a deep bolstering breath. I could do this.

I opened the door and paused. Leaning against the wall, across from the door, was Max.

“Hi, Max!” I sounded way too high-pitched and chipper. I cleared my throat.

“Having a good night?”

“Um, yup.”

His eyes traveled down the length of me. His voice sounded casual. “How’s your date going?”

I rapidly blinked, not sure how to answer. Not sure if I wanted him to know I wasn’t on a date. “You’re here with the team?”

“I am.”

I did not understand why he was waiting for me or why he wanted to talk.

He let me know when he asked, “Did your parents go out of town?”

“How did you know?”

“I saw your dad with a suitcase.”

My stomach did a slow flop. “Yes. They went down to Seattle for the weekend.”

He stared at me for a long moment. “Phone.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone.”

I didn’t even ask why he wanted it. I unlocked it and handed it to him.

I watched as he typed something in before passing it back. I peeked down at the screen. He had entered his phone number in my contact information.

My breath caught in my throat. Why had he given me his number?

OMG! Did he want a bootie call? Did he want to come over? Is that why he was giving me his number? My heart raced in my throat.

“Do you want me to call you later?”

“Text me when you get home safe.”

I stopped, confused. “What?”

He pushed himself off the wall, looming over me. “I want to know when you get home safe. Text me when you do.”

My lips parted, but before I could answer he disappeared into the men’s room.

I shut my eyes in mortification. It was laughable that I had thought for even a fleeting second he wanted to come over later. He had a puck bunny salivating over him. It embarrassed me that I had thought he’d want to see me.

With my head down, I made my way back to Ola.

She gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but I need to leave. My boyfriend called. His car broke down in Surrey and he needs me to come and get him.”

“That’s fine. I’m not feeling that great.”

We paid for our drinks. As we walked out, I glanced over my shoulder. Max stood with his back to me. The cute blonde was all but glued to his side.

The whole thing depressed me.

I took a cab home, letting myself into my childhood home. I sighed as I stood in the dark foyer of the huge silent house. Friday night and I was home by 10 PM. So much for having a social life.

Time for soft clothing, popcorn, and Netflix.

While the popcorn popped, I checked my phone again.

Max had given me his number. Not because he wanted a bootie call, but because he was treating me like a kid sister that he needed to take care of. It kind of made me happy that he was thinking about me, but he wasn’t thinking about me in the way I wanted him to.

I started to text him that I was home, but then stopped myself. How lame would I seem if I texted him at 10 PM? I could envision him, at the bar, with some puck bunny sitting on his lap and then his phone would buzz with my text. A text that would scream sad loner.

I tossed the phone on the counter. It wouldn’t hurt for him to believe that I was on some hot and heavy date. I’d text him after the movie.