31. Emmy
THIRTY-ONE
“Damn, Emmy.”Piper whistles. “You look fantastic. Give me a spin so I can admire the whole outfit.”
I laugh and twirl in the foyer of her apartment, showing off my form-fitting gown and the stiletto heels I paired with the forest green dress.
“I figured I had to pull out the big stops for the important donors,” I say.
“You did not miss, woman. My god. Look at your ass. I might need to get out of the media booth and onto the ice if it’s going to give me a backside like yours.”
“Hush.” I swat her arm with my black clutch, but I can’t help smiling at the compliment. “Is our ride almost here?”
“Yup. Lexi and Maven are meeting us in the lobby. Traffic is always a nightmare at these things. If we’re going to be stuck in a gridlock, we might as well be stuck together in a limo with champagne.”
“Alimo? How did you pull that off?”
“I didn’t. Maverick did.” Piper’s smile is sly. “Is there something you need to share, Emmy? A reason why the notorious playboy and star right winger hasn’t been spotted with a woman in months and is sending fancy cars to the apartment?”
I pretend to be interested in my silver earrings and shrug. “I don’t know anything about Miller’s personal life. What he does off the ice is his own business.”
Except, it’s become my business too.
The lines have started to blur since our conversation about exclusivity.
I keep getting tangled up in him, and I can’t find a way to stop.
I’m not sure I want to.
I went to his apartment twice last week, and he snuck over to my place yesterday while Piper was at the grocery store. It was rushed and frantic as he slid his large hand over my mouth and told me to be quiet.
“Someone’s been through media training,” she says. “That’s the equivalent of no comment. And the only people who say no comment are the ones with a lot of comments.”
“I don’t have anything to say.”
Piper opens the closet door and rifles through the hangers until she finds her black peacoat. “If you’re getting good dick, I’m happy for you. And definitely not jealous.”
“Oh, my god.” I burst out laughing. “Please never say good dick again.”
“So, it’s bad dick?”
“No one is getting dicked.”
I feel bad lying to her, but Maverick and I agreed to keep this between us.
As much as I want to gossip with her like we’re back in high school and talking about crushes and the hottest guys in our grade, I hold it in. I lock it away in a compartment I’ll only let myself open when I’m alone.
“That’s a shame.” She sighs. “Someone should be getting dicked.”
“Hear, hear,” I agree, lifting an imaginary glass. “Should we get going? Knowing this ride is going to be on Miller’s dime, I think we should take the long way there.”
Piper loops her arm through mine and grins. “You’re damn right we should.”
We meet Maven and Lexi downstairs and spend fifteen minutes fawning over each other’s outfits. Our hair, our shoes, the diamond necklace Maven shows off—a gift from Dallas to match the diamond on her ring finger.
I’m warm and smiling when we slide into the limo and pop open the first bottle of champagne. I haven’t had a sip of alcohol yet, but already, there’s this bubbly, fizzy excitement in me. That rush you get when you’re with people who make you feel good.
It’s hard to make friends as an adult, and it’s almost impossible with a schedule like mine. Friendship with them is easy, though. Every time we’re together, I feel more and more like I’m a part of something special. Like I want to stay in DC for longer than the season and make a name for myself here, not just with the Stars, but with these women too.
“There’s a note from Maverick.” Lexi grabs the card sitting on the small table to her left and clears her throat before reading it aloud. “‘To the four best women in the league—thank you for all you do. You deserve your name to be shouted from the rooftops.’”
“Aw, Mavvy!” Maven puts her hand over her chest, and my own heart skips a beat with his generosity. “I love that man so much. He’s such a good guy.”
“We might as well open the second one, right? Since he’s paying and all,” I say, and I reach for the next bottle.
The girls are distracted, speculating about who might be bringing who as a date tonight, but my attention snags on the small paper hiding behind a set of martini glasses.
I turn it over and find messy handwriting and a scribbled note.
EG-
I hope you’re the one who finds this.
If not, I’ll deny any involvement.
Don’t tell the others, but you’re my favorite.
Can’t wait to see you tonight.
I really hope you’re not wearing any underwear.
-PB
I read it a second time, and my cheeks hurt from smiling. I should toss the secret note in the trash, but I tuck it in my purse instead, wanting to keep it safe for reasons I can’t quite figure out.
I can see the swanky hotel where the gala is being held from two blocks away. It’s lit up in big, bright lights, and there’s a red carpet rolled out like we’re sports royalty.
Photographers stand in a line, snapping pictures of the players as they arrive, the flashes of cameras eager for a peek at the NHL’s hottest team right now.
“Wow,” I whisper as I step onto the sidewalk. “This is incredible.”
“The events team likes to make a statement.” Piper waves to someone up ahead, and Maven and Lexi climb the steps toward the building. “I’m pretty sure they blow their annual budget on this night alone.”
“Now we can really celebrate. Is the auction as awful as I think it’s going to be?”
“No. It’s all very tame. Most of the time the guys will bid on each other if things turn awkward. Two years ago, this woman wouldn’t leave Hudson alone. She kept trying to get his attention and upped her bid throughout the night so she’d be the one to win a lunch outing with him. It went well past friendly, and it made Hud really uncomfortable. Maverick swooped in and ended up donating a hundred grand, and they went on a bromance date to the planetarium at the Smithsonian.”
“It’s not nice to talk about people behind their backs, ladies,” Maverick’s deep voice says, and goosebumps sprout on my arms. “Even if you are complimenting me.”
I take a second before turning around.
I really don’t want to embarrass myself or have a physical reaction to seeing him out in public.
I don’t want to give him that satisfaction.
Maverick sent me a selfie earlier, a sideways shot where I saw a pair of cufflinks. Polished shoes and tailored slacks that hug his body.
There was also the curve of his signature smirk, and the top two buttons of his shirt were popped open, showing just enough skin to make out a hickey on his neck. The red is fading to purple, and it made me want to leave another one next to it.
I blow out a breath, spin, and immediately want to throw my heel at his face.
Goddamn him all the way to hell.
I’ve seen him in suits and ties walking into games, but this is different.
He’s sexy. The picture of every woman’s fantasy wrapped up in a six-foot-four hunk of a man wearing a tuxedo and bowtie.
Moisture pools between my legs, and there’s a swooping sensation low in my stomach. Liquid heat settles in my blood the longer I stare at him. My nipples harden under my dress, pointed peaks I know he can see, and as much as I’d like to blame it on the wind or the cold or anythingelse, we both know it’s because of him.
“Hi, Mav.” Piper gives him a quick hug. “Thank you so much for the limo.”
“Anything for my favorite ladies. Did you all have fun?”
“We had a blast.” She smiles and squeezes his arm. “You look nice.”
I want to laugh.
Maverick Miller looks so beyond nice.
“So do you, Piper,” he says, but he’s not looking at her.
He’s staring right back at me.
There’s molten-hot awareness behind the darks of his eyes and the curl of a smile on his mouth. He licks his lips, a slow drag of his tongue reminiscent of a man starved, and it feels like he’s running his tongue over every inch of me.
The jut of my hip. The inside of my thigh. The swell of my breast and across my stomach as he nudges my knees apart, ready to feast.
“Are you all right, Hartwell?” Maverick asks, and he tips his head to the side. “You look a little flushed.”
I think I’m going into cardiac arrest.
“I’m fine.” I fix the strap of my dress and his gaze flashes a shade darker. I wonder if he’s undressing me with his eyes like I’m doing with him. “You do look nice, Miller. Glad to know you clean up so well.”
“I’m going to head up,” Piper says, turning for the stairs. “I’ll see you inside, Em.”
“Will you save me a seat at your table?” I ask.
“Sorry, Red. It’s assigned seating, and you have a spot next to me,” Maverick interjects. “But I’ll make sure you have a good time.”
“I’ll come and visit,” Piper promises, and she blows me a kiss. “Don’t stay out here too long. It’s freezing.”
Funny.
I feel like I’m on fire.
“I’m right behind you,” I assure her, and when she disappears into the crowd, I look back at Maverick. “Did you bring a date with you?”
“I did,” he says, and I don’t know why my heart sinks to the floor. “She’s about yea high.” He holds up his hand to his hip. “Likes to talk a lot. Definitely knows more about the Stars than I do and would put me to shame in a trivia match.” At my confused expression, he laughs. “I brought Rachel. The girl from?—”
“The arena tour,” I finish for him, and my heart leaps back up to my throat. “You did?”
“I thought she…” He trails off, the rest of the sentence hanging unfinished. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks up at the night sky. “She deserves to be here.”
I reach out and touch his bicep, right where I know the tattoos of a cluster of stars sit. “Can I meet her?” I ask, and his smile is a shot to the center of my chest.
“She’s sitting with her parents, so I’ll make sure to bring her by the table. She’d love to see you.” Off to the side of the crowd, someone calls out his name. “Save me a dance, Red. If I don’t get my hands on you tonight, I think I might die.”
“We’d hate to see that.” I pat his chest and step past him, swaying my hips as I walk up the stairs. “You’ve turned into a liability since you stole my favorite pair of underwear, Miller. You should know I’m not wearing any tonight.”
His mouth goes slack, and I grin all the way to my seat.