Chapter 16
sixteen
. . .
Amelia
As the season goes on, we fall into a routine. The schedule is a cacophony of home games and road trips. When I’m in town, I spend as much time with my brothers as possible, soaking up all the baby snuggles, and resting when I can. Ainsley is growing so freaking fast, it’s unbelievable.
Outside of the team, I haven’t made any friends yet.
But Robby, Joaquin, Patrice, and Vanessa keep my calendar plenty busy with brunch dates and drinks after work on non-game days.
We always hang out when we’re on the road.
There’s a camaraderie I didn’t experience in Colorado or as an intern in Austin.
Before, when the day was over, I left work behind. Now… it follows me wherever I go.
Maybe because I can see the team captain from my bedroom window each night. I haven’t given him another show, not since our session, and if he’s getting PT, it’s from one of the other staff members because he hasn’t been back on my table.
I’ve barely seen him. When we run into each other at the facility, he gives me a nod and keeps moving, and we haven’t been in the same room for more than ten seconds before someone else walks in. There’s no chance to talk about what happened.
He’s giving me space. He deserves the courtesy of me giving him the same.
We have a whole two days off for Thanksgiving, so of course, the team gathers at our favorite dive bar for a night out. Some of the guys flew to their hometowns, but most of them brought their families here.
Brandon doesn’t talk to his family, and Tyler isn’t close to our dad, so it’s just the three of us and Ainsley this year.
We invited Robby to join us, and if he thinks it’s weird to celebrate the holiday with his ex’s husband, he hasn’t mentioned it.
Brandon said it would be weird if Robby were suddenly hanging out, but now, they’re the best of friends.
Sven and Vanessa are also without extended families, but they politely declined our invitation. Patrice’s mom and sisters came to visit, and Joaquin’s brothers drove in from Rhode Island.
It’s a lively crowd at the bar. The team fills the place, all the support staff also joining in.
There is a much more fluid line between players and staff with the Grizzlies.
On my past teams, there wasn’t nearly as much mingling.
I don’t feel less than or inferior because I don’t earn the big bucks, like they do.
Half the guys are younger than me, though there is a solid core of older veterans. Gonzo and Logan are my age, MacGregor is three years older, and Sinclair is right in there. McKittrick is the oldest player on the team.
I can’t imagine what it’s like, knowing your best days are behind you.
He can still win the Cup, he still has another opportunity to push, but this is the last year of his contract.
After spending the last eight years with Boston, who knows if they’ll give him another.
Who knows where he’ll end up. The world is open to him, full of post-hockey opportunities.
But if I know McKittrick even half as well as I think I do, he doesn’t want a world post-hockey. He won’t hang up his skates until he absolutely has to. He won’t give up hockey until it’s forcibly taken from him. I just hope it doesn’t come to that.
Robby nudges me with his elbow, startling me from my introspection. “Why so glum, babe?”
“Just thinking.” I sip my drink, letting the stringent flavor of the vodka flood my senses. “You good?”
The holidays can be rough when you have no contact with your family.
“I’m great,” he says.
Looking him over, his eyes are a bit glassy, but he seems to be in control of his faculties.
“Really, Meels,” he insists. “I’m desperately single, but unless you know a hot, single, queer man who doesn’t have a U-Haul full of baggage, I’m doing good.”
Laughing, I wrap my arm around him and squeeze him in a hug. “I don’t, but I’ll keep my eye out for you.”
He sighs. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Besides, I’m right there with you on the single front,” I say before I can think better of it.
“Might I interest you in a no strings attached hookup?” He waves his hand in front of us. “Look at the buffet of hot, hopefully single, emotionally unavailable men. What’s your type?”
“Not someone I work with.”
Although…
Robby rolls his eyes. “Well, good thing we’re in a bar full of people you don’t know. I’ll be your wingman, hype you up. Seriously, what’s your type?”
“Tall. Dark hair.”
“Right, right. Let’s see what we can do.” Chin in his hand, he scopes out the situation around us. “Lawyer?”
“Eh. I need someone who won’t look down on me for my career, while also not being emasculated by the fact I spend my day surrounded by and touching half-dressed men.”
“Good luck with that,” he mutters.
“You’re telling me.”
“How do you feel about body hair?”
“Not opposed.” I think of the way McKittrick’s leg hair felt under my hand. I haven’t seen him up close with his shirt off, only from a distance. But what I’ve seen… I definitely like.
“Build?”
“I like athletic, but I’m not opposed to someone who works a day job.”
I care more about what’s inside than outside.
Robby nods at a man in a well-fitting suit. He’s a few inches short of six feet, but the confidence radiating from him makes me take a second glance. His full head of hair is chestnut brown and cut in a fashionable style. A light layer of scruff covers an impressive jawline.
“What do you think?” my friend mutters.
“He’s hot,” I admit, sipping my drink as I shamelessly check the guy out.
The man in question looks up, interest in his eyes.
… and then his gaze slips from me to Robby, his brows furrowing.
“Go for it, babe.”
“I think he’s more interested in you,” I point out.
“Nah. He’s just making sure I’m not competition.” Robby gives me a light shove. “Go get ‘im.”
Shaking my head to hide a smile, I slip off the barstool and weave my way through the bar tables, like a woman on a mission. As I approach, the man turns to face me directly.
Fuck. He’s even hotter up close.
“Hey.” When my voice doesn’t shake, I smile. “I’m Amelia.”
“Sam,” he says, in a clear, rich voice. “Your friend put you up to this?”
Laughing, I admit, “Something like that. Do you want to buy me a drink?”
His eyes drift over me, taking his time perusing me like a horse at auction, and I’m not certain how I feel about being considered merchandise.
“Sure,” he says, turning back to the bar and flagging down the bartender. “What are you drinking?”
“Vodka and lemonade.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
“Someone talked about it on a recipe blog once, and it sounded good. It’s my go-to drink now.”
When the bartender approaches, he orders, “A vodka and lemonade, please. And another gin and tonic for me.” He hands over his card and the bartender scurries off to make the drinks.
An awkward silence falls between us.
“So, what do you do?” he asks.
“I’m a physical therapist.”
“Oh, cool. I’m in tech consulting.”
I don’t know what that means. I’m half-convinced it’s just a buzzword for wasting people’s time and money.
But I know better than to say it out loud.
“Are you native to Boston?” I ask instead.
Sam shakes his head. “I did my MBA at Harvard. I’m originally from Albuquerque. You?”
“Military brat. I’ve lived all over. Born in London. My brothers live here, so I moved here.”
His face falls. “You have brothers?”
“Yeah, two of them. They’re great.”
I don’t mention that Brandon is a famous baseball player. More than once, guys have tried to use me to get to him.
“Hey, Amelia!”
McKittrick pops up behind Sam, a drink in his hand. As I stand there, the hockey player sets an arm across my shoulders, leaning into me. He smells woodsy like pine, and I shouldn’t like it as much as I do.
“What are you up to?” he asks.
“Talking to my friend here.” I give him a sharp elbow to the ribs, expecting him to flinch away, but he only pulls me further into his side.
“Hey, man. I’m Jason.”
“Sam.” His eyes narrow as he glances between us. “Am I getting in the middle of something here?”
“Nope,” I tell him brightly. “He was just leaving.”
McKittrick doesn’t take the hint. “Nice to meet you. Are you from around here?”
“Yeah, my place is around the corner.”
“Cool, cool. We live in the financial district.”
Sam cocks his head. “Both of you?”
“We’re neighbors,” I grit out.
“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome,” McKittrick adds.
The bartender sets our drinks in front of us, and I watch as Sam scribbles out a five percent tip. Hm. Not sure I can abide by that.
Reaching for my wallet, I withdraw a ten dollar bill and stuff it into the tip jar.
Sam’s jaw clenches as his gaze darts from me to the jar. “Do you want to get out of here?”
“We just got our drinks.” I sip from mine, ignoring McKittrick draped all over me. “Do you have anything fun planned for the weekend?”
“Nah, just working,” he says. “I picked up a turkey dinner for one from the market.”
“Oh.”
“I’m hanging out with Meels, here,” McKittrick says helpfully. “Her brother invited me.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah. When Ty dropped off my meals for the week, we talked about how my parents are with my sister this year at her in-laws. So, he invited me over.”
“Huh,” Sam says. “So, you guys really know each other.”
McKittrick shrugs. “We work together, we live next door to each other… You could say we’re best friends.”
“We’re not best friends,” I hurry to add. “I barely know the guy.”
“Yeah. Right.” Sam gulps down his drink. “I’m going to get out of here. It was nice meeting you, Amy.”
“It’s Amelia,” McKittrick stresses as Sam walks away.
I shove the hockey player off of me. “What the fuck was that?”
Why did I wait so long? I should have punched him the second he horned in on our conversation.
McKittrick sips his beer. “That was me saving you from a lifetime of boring.”
My eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”
“He was boring as fuck.”
“And what right do you have to—”
“I don’t have any right,” he says, with a shrug. “I saw someone that needed saving.”
“I don’t need saving. I can make my own decisions.”
“Yeah, except when they’re bad ones.”
“I’m not looking for forever. I just want to get laid.”
“Okay, then,” McKittrick says. “Let’s go back to my place.”
“I’m not going sleeping with you!”
“If you insist.” He shrugs, but there’s tension in his shoulders. “I would never force you. All I’m saying is, you want one night of meaningless fun, you know where to find me.”
“I—I—”
Letting out a chuckle, McKittrick steers me back to Robby. “If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be.”