19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter nineteen
W atching Caius cheer for the Dragons, who are rocking the playoffs yet again this year, I want to kick myself. I should have talked to him about my issues, voiced my concerns, let him have an opinion about it. Guilt makes me sick to my stomach. He’s such a good friend. A good man. And he’s not going to have any of my nonsense.
He turns to look at me, a broad smile lighting his face.
“I can’t believe he made that save. This game is intense,” he says. “You hungry?”
I shrug. “I could eat something. Maybe a drink, too?”
Cai slides from the seat and heads up the long set of stairs—because he got us seats on the glass—to the concessions area. Meanwhile, I enjoy the first period break, spy a few embarrassed people on the kiss cam, and take in the arena. It’s been a long time since I’ve attended a Dragons game, but something gnaws at me. Is this a date? It feels a lot like a date, but Cai didn’t specifically ask me on a date. He merely showed up at my house and whisked me away, but that’s not unusual. It’s something we did in the past. I grumble to myself. This friendship with him makes sorting out my feelings and his actions a lot harder than it would be if we were never close.
Ten minutes later, while I’m still deep in trying to decode him, Cai returns with a giant soft drink, two pretzels, two hot dogs, nachos, and funnel cake.
“Cai, this is a heart attack waiting to happen. How do you think I’m going to eat all of…” I fade and add, “Never mind. You still eat like a starving lion. That Chinese food the other week didn’t stand a chance.”
“I can’t help that my metabolism is high, plus I have to work out a lot. Job requirement, you know.” He hands me a hot dog while biting his in half.
Yeah. He works out a lot, all right. His forearms bulge with every move and I can’t stop staring at him. He’s gorgeous. Okay, I can admit that the years have served him well. Gone is the spotty facial hair and goofiness that were both signature Cai. In their place is a sturdy, strong, impressive specimen of a man. I bite my hot dog and look away before he catches me admiring his profile. The team is back on the ice, and the goaltender performs his usual routine prepping the crease.
“Evander absolutely crushed it last period. I hope he can keep it up.” Cai nods toward the Dragons goaltender. “I wonder if Greer is here tonight?”
“Greer Morgan, his wife?” I might have had a serious and busy work life, but I still managed to keep up to date with all the celebrity news. Okay, maybe they aren’t exactly celebrities, but that whole social media, fake dating, falling in love charade they pulled last year was amazing.
“Yeah, she’s usually here.” He says it so casually, it’s almost as if he’s besties with the goalie and his wife.
“How do you know that? Are you a closet Denver Darlings fan?” I ask, remembering that he likes soccer as well. Since Greer played pro soccer, I assume he follows her team as well.
“I mean, they’re all right. I just know her from Brokedown and hanging out with Evan, is all.” Cai shrugs but he’s left out key information.
“It seems like you know them personally? Like, better than acquaintances? Hanging out implies some degree of friendship.” I wipe mustard from my mouth and dig deeper.
Cai glances at me again. “Yeah, I know them all okay. Some better than others, like Evan Calloway and Aiden Doyle are friends of mine. The rest I know in passing.”
“Are you serious right now? You really know them all?” I ask, somehow even more impressed with my friend’s connections. As if being close enough to a billionaire to get me a sweet job isn’t enough, he’s acquaintances with the entire Denver Dragons hockey team.
“Yeah, sure. Like I said before, Chantelle’s dad is the coach and they hang out at Brokedown all the time. Plus, I have that side job supervising the pyrotechnics when they have a mascot show. Ruby the Dragon is Aiden’s wife. Anyway, who is your favorite player?”
“Well, that’s fun. You’ve really done amazing things the past ten years, Cai,” I admit. I always knew he’d be great at whatever he decided to do, even if he didn’t know what it was when we graduated high school.
“Thank you, but you didn’t answer my question. Who is your favorite player? I’ll try not to be jealous when you tell me who you most want to meet,” he teases. His eyes sparkle and he nods toward the ice.
“Obviously, I need to meet the guy who plays my favorite position to watch.” I roll my eyes as if this is even a real question. Of course, I need to meet Evander Calloway. After his epic and very public romance with Greer Morgan, I’ve been dying to get his autograph…and his wife’s.
Cai chuckles and shrugs. “And who is that? I’m not a mind reader, Whits.” He sinks deeper into the seat beside me, getting more comfortable.
“You don’t know my favorite hockey position? Are you kidding me right now? You know my favorite color, my teenage celebrity crush, who really wrecked Dad’s golf cart, and that I’m afraid of cats but you don’t know my favorite hockey position?”
He pops a few kernels of popcorn in his mouth and shakes his head.
“Are you serious right now?”
Cai’s laughter is deep and rumbling. “No, I really don’t know. You gotta help me out, beautiful.”
“Cai! I wore your jersey to every single game you and Jax played!”
“That tells me nothing. Adrianna Franklin wore your brother’s jersey. Does that mean right wing was her favorite?”
“No, it wasn’t. She didn’t care. She wore it because she was dating my brother, goofball.”
“Okay, fair enough, but I always thought you wore mine to be nice and support your brother’s best friend.”
He really, truly had no clue. None whatsoever. Zip, zero, zilch clue that I liked him back then, even though I wore that jersey religiously in a pathetic attempt to get his attention. “You thought I wore your jersey to be supportive of my brother’s best friend?”
“Sure.” He takes another handful of popcorn and waits for my reply. “You were always nice to me.”
I grin. I can’t help it. He’s so clueless and adorable. “Sure. If that’s the way you want to see it, absolutely that’s why I wore it. Anyway, goalie is my favorite. Score me an autograph from Calloway, and I’ll love you forever.”
I sit back in my seat and bite off the end of a hot dog.
“Wait, what do you mean by if that’s the way I want to see it?” Cai sits forward and narrows his eyes on me.
“Oh, nothing at all. Just that I can’t believe you didn’t figure out you played my favorite position back then. Goalies are hot and mysterious. Kinda attracted to that look.”
Cai blinks and I continue to eat my hot dog like I didn’t just admit I thought he was hot and mysterious—and still is because let’s be honest, the biker look is just as attractive. And mysterious. And, yeah, very intriguing.
“You wore my jersey because you like goaltenders?” Poor guy is working overtime trying to decide if I liked him or his position. I’m not telling. Not yet. I’m enjoying the cute and confused puppy expressions way too much to give him the details right now. Not to mention, I’m so nervous I could puke up every bite of food he has so graciously provided for me.
“Mmm hmm,” I hum.
Cai continues staring at me, working through this conundrum. I’m not giving him any more information, mostly because he’s too adorable trying to figure me out. We watch the second period and enjoy our food, but I know he’s still thinking about my comments. Every so often, he looks my way, enough that I have to excuse myself and rush to the restroom during the second intermission. He can’t ask me clarifying questions if I’m in the ladies’ room, and I can compose myself.
Every muscle in my body wants to throw me right into his arms again while I profess my still-burning attraction to him. The only problem is, I’m not sure if he still feels the same way about me, or sees me as his old friend’s big sister. A friend he wants to reconnect with, spend time with, flirt with.
I splash my face with water and head back down to our seats just as the third period begins. Cai shouts at the ref and cheers for his favorite team while urging me to do the same. When there are only two minutes left on the clock, Cai nudges me.
“While you were hiding in the bathroom, I got two lounge passes from Finchley Doyle, Aiden’s wife. Wanna go up and meet Calloway after the game?” He grins. “I promise I won’t tell him you have a crush on him.”
“What? I do not! He is a married man, Caius Gray.” I shove his arm and stand because even though I absolutely do not have a thing for Calloway as a man, I have the utmost respect for him as a goaltender. I’m not turning down a chance for an autograph.
Cai laughs at me and offers his hand to lead me up the stairs and through the maze of corridors leading to the private lounge. He presents the two passes and we enter. I’m not sure what I expected, but a room full of the wives and girlfriends of Dragons players was not on my mind until I find myself surrounded by a lot of beautiful women.
“Cai!” A woman with long dark hair calls for him and waves us over.
“Oh, there she is.” He tugs my hand toward the woman. “Thanks for the passes, Finch. This is my friend, Tallulah Whitmore, the one I told you about.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Finchley says and shakes my hand. All of a sudden, I remember who she is. I knew, but knowing and meeting in person are two different things. “Oh! Oh, you’re the fire-breathing mascot! You have got to show me how to do that one day.”
“Everyone wants to know my secrets,” she teases and offers us the seats beside her. “Something tells me Cai won’t let me show you. He’s Mr. Safety all the time.”
“Hey,” Cai defends, “I’m not the one who caught her leotard on fire during practice.”
Finchley covers her face and shakes her head. “Lesson learned.”
We chat for a few minutes until the players, who won the game while I was busy picking Finchley Doyle’s brain, enter the lounge to meet their significant others. I recognize most of them, but when Evander Calloway kisses his wife’s cheek, I swoon a little. Sweetest love story ever told. Once my moment of intense admiration passes, I notice Evan and Greer are walking toward me. Me. Little old me, and I freeze. Cai stands so I mindlessly do the same and try to plaster on a smile, though I’m certain it looks painted on and queasy. Why am I so nervous to meet a pro hockey player and his soccer phenom wife?
“Cai, how are you?” Evan asks and he pulls Cai into a hug.
“Great, and I appreciate you working out that little surprise for my friend.” Cai glances my way and his eyes narrow. “Uh, Whits, you okay?”
I shake my head and clear my throat. “Yeah. Yes. I’m good.”
Greer’s stunning smile sets my mind at ease a little. I pray she knows I’m not goo-goo over her husband, because that would be beyond awkward. Still, she’s probably used to this kind of thing. People staring at her gorgeous husband, all of the hockey fans praising him, so much attention that—
“Whits?” Cai shakes me. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Um, no. Sorry.” I chuckle and try to relax. What is wrong with me?
“Cai told me about your accident. I’m so sorry to hear you can’t do surgery anymore.” Greer offers a small smile and adds, “I kind of know exactly how you feel. After my knee injury, things sort of plummeted into a mess.” She gazes up at her husband. “But it all worked out.”
I had forgotten, but Greer does know what it’s like to lose a career you love. For some reason, it sets me at ease. “Yeah, I remember. I’m sorry about your loss, too.”
Greer’s smile is soft and understanding. “Thanks. Hey, if you ever need to talk about it, I know you don’t really know me, but sometimes it’s good to talk to someone who’s been there, you know?”
Her kindness almost brings me to tears, so I merely nod and utter a quiet, “That would be nice, thank you.”
“Man, that is a crazy job. I can’t imagine the kind of talent it takes to be a trauma surgeon,” Evan says.
Cai immediately falls into a monologue about how I was always the smartest person he knew, that I always work hard for the things I want, but I’m also charitable and kind and just the best . Honestly, the praise he showers on me is ridiculous.
“And she saved my life once.” Cai adds.
“Yeah, you mentioned that like ten times.” Evan laughs and bends to unzip his gear bag. “This is for you, Dr. Whitmore.” He pulls a signed stick from the bag along with a signed jersey and a game program signed by the entire team.
“What?” I gasp as my eyes widen.
“Don’t forget the best part,” Greer adds. “Season passes for the rest of the playoff season and lounge passes so you can hang out with us.”
“Wait, what?” I can’t seem to say anything else, but I’m stunned at their generosity.
“Least we can do for our friend. Cai keeps us safe around here,” Finchley chimes in. “We’re a close little family, I guess you could say.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit and take the stick Evan is holding out for me. “I’m grateful. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Don’t mention it. You’re Cai’s girl, so you’re our girl,” Evan says.
My gaze snaps to Cai in anticipation of his reaction to Evan calling me his girl, somehow hoping the remark will clarify Cai’s feelings toward me. If the deep red of his cheeks is any indication, there is something still there. He doesn’t deny it either, and deep in my heart, I treasure that knowledge.