“Not at all. Lazy day, actually. We start preseason next week.”
“Preseason is different from a regular old season?”
“Yeah. Preseason is to see who will make the roster and who won’t for the regular season. We got a new coach since ours couldn’t pull it out twice in a row. New general manager, all that. It’s actually a huge shitshow right now.” I really don’t like talking about it. Coach was a damn good man, took great care of us. I hate that he got blamed for the loss. We lose as a team, but everyone needs someone to blame. I’m actually okay with the GM change, though. Pete Dickerson was a dick, and I’m not making a play on his name. He really was a dick. “So, unfortunately, it’s going to be a rebuilding year.”
She furrows her brow, watching me intently. “What’s that mean?”
“We’re starting from ground zero. Unlike having a Cup-contending team like last season, we’ll have a team of brand-new dudes and a new coaching staff. Everything will be different. We’ll have to learn one another. And since we traded off a bunch of guys, we’ll be bringing in babies, so it’ll be interesting for sure.”
“That does not sound fun.”
I shake my head. “Nope, the thing that sucks is that a lot of my friends have been traded. It’s really only me, Chandler Moon, and Nico left. Makes me worry a bit. No one wants to be on a losing team.”
“Yeah, for sure,” she says, and I appreciate her pity. It sucks, but it’s also nice to have someone who agrees this all sucks ass. “So, basically, what you’re telling me is you’ll be the best player on the ice?”
I snort. “Nico is the best, followed by the newbie Owen, and then me, and maybe Chandler if he gets his balls from Amelia for long enough to play sixty minutes.”
She laughs happily, placing her hand on mine. “Well, you’re my favorite player.”
“Have you even been to a game?”
She thinks that over, tapping her chin. “I think I’ve gone to two?”
I lean toward her, my eyes challenging hers. “And who’s Number Zero?”
She beams over at me, fluttering those long lashes. “You, of course.”
I scoff. “Wrong. Nico.”
Her cheeks warm with color as she laughs me off. “I knew that. Your number?” Now, her eyes are challenging me, waiting for me to give her the answer.
My lips pucker as I watch her. “Eighty…”
“Eight…” she hesitates as I repeat, “Eighty—”
“Eighty-eight!”
I laugh. “Wrong. Eighty-one.”
She glares at me. “Well, it isn’t like you know what I do and not just that I’m a lawyer.”
“You’re a contract lawyer.”
She puckers her lips. “There is only one of me and like twenty of you on the ice! That’s not fair.”
We laugh together as our plates are set before us. I got the chicken piccata, and instantly, I can tell she regrets her salmon and rice pilaf. “Man, I knew I should have gotten the piccata.”
“Yeah, you should have,” I tease as I dig in. “It’s fabulous.”
“Brat.”
“Don’t think ’cause you’re beautiful I’m gonna change plates with you. I love my food.”
She grins. “But I bet I can offer you something you can’t deny.”
My brow perks. “I may or may not be listening over the sounds of my moans as I eat this.”
She shakes her head, holding back her laughter. She takes a bite of her salmon, and it’s clear she likes it, but my piccata is way better. “I can offer you a very, very thick and juicy—”
I eye her, all about the possibilities here. “Thick and juicy?”
“Yes, a thick and juicy…” she draws out, waggling her brows. “Salmon. It’s quite tasty.” Her laughter bursts out as she shakes her head at my stunned expression. “You really thought it was going to be something nasty.”
“I will not admit that.” I throw back at her, and she giggles happily as I cut into my chicken.
“Fine, don’t. But can I have a bite?”
“Nope,” I tease, but then I hold out a piece of chicken to her. Her mouth covers my fork, taking the food with a dirty look in her eyes. “Stop.”
“Stop what?” she asks innocently.
“Being all bewitching.”
“Bewitching?” she asks with a little wiggle of her shoulders. “That’s my first time being called that.”
I scoff. “Everyone knows it’s true. Hell, you know.”
“Maybe,” she says around her fork, but then she waves me off. “We keep on like this, we won’t make it through this meal without getting naked.”
I grin. “I see nothing wrong with that.”
“Nor do I. But today, I want to get to know you.”
“Get to know me?” I ask, raising a brow. “I’m a hockey player, a dad, and I think you’re bewitching. Boom.”
She gives me a dry look. “Ugh. Are you one of those guys who don’t like to talk about themselves?”
“I’ve been talking the whole time!”
“About Celeste, about your career—I want to know you.”