13. Braden
Chapter 13
Braden
I bet I look like a smug asshole right now.
I can’t help it though. I don’t miss that look in Bella’s eyes when I called her “pretty girl.”
I’d bet anything she wasn’t expecting me to call her that.
But I did. Because that’s exactly what she is. Insanely pretty. And I knew that calling her that would get a reaction out of her.
And I’m realizing that I like getting a reaction out of her. Good or bad, I don’t care. I just like that she’s paying attention to me.
There’s a dazed look in her eyes. I don’t miss the faint pink blush on her cheeks.
“Hey,” she says to me after a second.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Maya nudge Ingrid. I glance over right as they exchange a look.
They grab the pitcher of beer they ordered and glance between us. “We’ll let you two chat,” Ingrid says. “It was nice meeting you, Bella.”
Bella smiles at them. “You too.”
They walk off to our usual table, where Del, Xander, and Theo are already sitting. Theo twists around his chair and looks at me. “Get some champagne!” he hollers at me. “We gotta celebrate the way you kicked ass in the net tonight, dude!”
I chuckle and shake my head.
“Special occasion?” Bella teases. She steps over to a small refrigerator behind the bar and grabs a bottle of champagne. I take the opportunity to check out her ass.
“Not really,” I say when she turns back around.
“Your teammate seems to think it is.”
She grabs a handful of flute glasses and sets them on the bar top.
“I, uh, played better than expected during our game tonight.”
“You play goalie, right?”
I grin. “Yeah. Did you Google me?”
She fights a smile as she nods. “That’s tough to be a goalie. Or at least I think it would be. Especially when you play a team sport. Like, all your other teammates are working together for most of the game, but then it all comes down to you. You’re the one stopping the pucks.”
I look at her for a second, surprised at how well she described it.
“That’s exactly how it feels sometimes. Part of a team, but the odd one out since I’m the one in the net,” I say.
“It sounds like you kicked ass tonight.”
I chuckle and tug at the Basher’s baseball cap I’m wearing. “I just played better than expected. It was a nice change from how bad I’ve been sucking lately.”
Her eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been in a rut. Pretty much ever since the end of last season.”
“Oh. ”
I’m quiet while I wonder just how much I should say. I already know Bella doesn’t like hockey for some unknown reason. But she’s engaging in our conversation. She seems like she’s okay with talking about this.
“I, uh, lost the playoffs for us a few months ago.”
Her expression drops. There’s a pained look in her big, gold-brown eyes that hits me right in the chest.
“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault,” she says.
“It was my fault.” My tone is curt. I clear my throat. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh. “It’s been hard to shake that feeling since then,” I say, my tone back to normal. “I’ve had kind of a rocky start to the season. But tonight I played decent. And we won.”
Bella’s gaze softens. “Well, that definitely calls for bubbles.”
I watch her pop open the champagne bottle and pour it into the flutes.
“So what turned it around for you?” Bella asks.
I try and fail to hold back my grin. When I don’t say anything, she looks up at me.
“You really wanna know?” I ask.
She smiles. “Yeah.”
I grab a champagne glass and take a sip. I lock my gaze with hers as I swallow. “Hooking up with you.”
Her eyes widen the slightest bit. A beat later, the sexiest smile pulls at her lush lips.
“Really?” she says, quirking her brow like she’s intrigued.
I nod, relieved that she’s not pissed.
She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those superstitious goalies who has to recreate everything you did if you win a game.”
“That’s exactly the kind of goalie I am. ”
Her head falls back as she laughs even harder.
When she straightens up, she leans her hip against the bartop, that playful smile still dancing across her lips.
“So what are you saying? That you wanna hook up again?” she asks, her voice soft and low.
“I wouldn’t say no.”
She lets out an exasperated laugh. “God, you’re smug.”
I shrug and nod. She laughs even harder.
She shakes her head and taps her fingernails along the bartop. “I told you. That was a one-time thing.”
“I remember what you said.” I hold her gaze, then drop my hand onto the bartop and lean closer to her. “But don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about riding my dick again, pretty girl.”
Those doe eyes widen as her mouth parts, clearly surprised at what I’ve said.
Just then, I hear hollering. I twist around and see a bunch of the guys from the Toronto Titans walking into the bar and over to our table. My teammates stand up to greet them, laughing and joking.
It’s not often that we run into the team we played right after a game, but sometimes it happens. Usually everyone is cool about it, no matter who won or lost. Sometimes things get hairy if there’s a rivalry between guys on either team or one of the guys played dirty. But almost everyone on the Titans is cool. We’ve hung out with them after a game before, and we can all have a good time over a few drinks.
But then I spot Matt Boucher walking in my direction. I bite back a groan. I’ve seen enough of that jackass for one night.
He walks up to me, a smug smile on his face. “Blomdahl. What’s up, man?”
“Not much.” I gulp my champagne .
He looks at my glass, then laughs. “Wow. Really living it up after just one win, huh?”
I clench my teeth as I swallow. He knows I’ve been struggling so far this season. Everyone in the league does. I guess he wants to give me shit over it.
Whatever. I’m not gonna let this prick goad me into a fight.
“Nothing wrong with celebrating a win,” I say to him.
“Hey, man. Whatever you need to do to feel good about yourself.” He smirks. What an asshole.
“Didn’t that Cybertruck you bought to celebrate your contract extension blow up? It was all over TikTok, right?” I say, looking him in the eye.
Boucher was gloating about his contract renewal with the Titans last season on all of his social media accounts and bought a Cybertruck to celebrate. All he posted for weeks were photos and videos of him posing with it. It was obnoxious as fuck. But one night, it blew up in a parking garage in downtown Toronto, causing hundreds of thousands of dollars in damage. It was all over sports news for days.
The smirk melts from his face. He clears his throat and frowns. “Manufacturing problem. The company issued a recall. They’re supposed to send me a new one soon.”
“Ah. Good luck with that.” I let a smile break free.
I dig cash out of my wallet and set it on the counter for Bella, who I just now noticed is staring at Matt with a stricken look on her face.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
But she doesn’t answer me.
I glance at Boucher, who looks over at Bella. His face goes pale, like he’s going to be sick.
For a second, the two of them stare at each other. Matt looks like he just saw a ghost, and Bella looks like she’s on the verge of ripping his face off.
“Do you two know each other?” I ask.
A bitter laugh falls from Bella’s mouth. She looks at me. “Oh, we go way back. Matt is my ex. He cheated on me. A lot. And he screwed me out of my savings.” She turns to him. “Did I leave anything out, you worthless dickhead?”