Chapter 33 Happy
HAPPY
After my PT session with our lead trainer, Jace, I limp into the kitchen for some lunch before we’re due in the auditorium for our team meeting.
Pulling my phone from the pocket of my shorts, I grin at the sight of the notification on my screen because I know exactly who it is; we’ve been texting non-stop all morning.
Do I feel pathetic for the way my heart lurches in my chest every time she texts me?
Sure. Do I care? Not in the fucking slightest. I’m a goner for the first time in my life; let me live, dammit.
When I open the new message, I’m met with a photo of what appears to Hannah in a dressing room somewhere, her back to the mirror, her face turned slightly over her shoulder, wearing a long, slinky red dress that dips all the way down to the top of her ass, the two dimples there on full display, making my cock immediately stir.
Baby Draper: What do you think?
Me: What is that?
Baby Draper: A dress.
Me: What for? Because unless it’s going to end up on the floor of my bedroom, I fucking hate it.
Baby Draper: It’s for my mom’s wedding. She hates red. And I just know it’ll make her lose her shit. Yes, I am officially that petty. Don’t ever piss me off.
Me: I don’t like the thought of you wearing that dress when I’m not around.
Baby Draper: Well, good thing you’re not the boss of me, so bite me.
Me: In that dress I’ll do more than fucking bite you, baby.
“Hey, Romeo,” a deep voice says over my shoulder.
I startle, almost dropping my phone, turning to find Robbie right there, smirking at me with a knowing look in his eyes. He chuckles, moving to the big glass door refrigerator and pulling out one of the ready-made meals stocked inside.
“Romeo?”
“You and Hannah,” he says, coming up beside me to prepare his food on the stainless countertop. “It’s giving… Romeo and Juliet.” He waves a hand dramatically.
“Oh my God,” I scold. “You know they die in the end, right?”
“Well, you might,” Robbie says with a shrug. “If Coach finds out.”
I throw my head back on a laugh. “I’ll have you know Coach Draper loves me. In fact, I’m his favorite.”
Robbie stares at me long and hard before breaking out into a fit of laughter, which is so unlike him it causes almost everyone in the lounge area to turn and look.
“It’s true,” I snap back. “Hannah told me.”
Robbie shakes his head with a chuckle, peeling back the plastic film on the meal.
“My girlfriend wouldn’t lie…”
Snapping his head up, Robbie’s eyes are huge as he gawks at me, his face stark. “Your what?”
I flash him a cocky smirk, but I say nothing.
“Ho-ly shit!”
Again, everyone in the lounge area turns at the sound of Robbie’s outburst. And, of course, Dallas being the world’s nosiest asshole, hefts himself up from one of the sofas and struts into the kitchen, looking from me to Robbie and back again, arms folded across his chest as he waits.
“What’s going on?”
I turn to see Logan walking up to us, freshly showered and shirtless, his shoulder strapped with black kinetic tape. He picks an apple from the platter of fruit and vegetables that sits on the island and chomps into it.
“Well, since you’re all here,” I say, looking between all three of them. “As of yesterday, Hannah and I are officially girlfriend and boyfriend.” I wince at my own words as they leave my mouth. What am I? Twelve?
Robbie flashes Dallas a grin right as our starting goalie throws his head back on a loud laugh.
Logan at least has the decency to act cool about it, chewing his bite of apple. He shrugs a shoulder and nods once. “I know. Mils messaged me earlier to tell me.”
“Of course.” I snicker, trying not to get too ahead of myself at the thought of Hannah talking to Millie about us this morning. I like that. That she was talking about us. It makes everything feel more real, if that’s possible.
“Wait.” Dallas snaps his mouth shut, slapping me on my shoulder. “You’re serious?”
I deadpan.
“Holy shit!” he hisses.
“That’s what I said.” Robbie sniffs a laugh.
“Does Coach know?” Dallas presses.
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can get my words out, we’re interrupted by a familiar gruff voice. “Does Coach know what?”
My spine stiffens. Fuckkkkk…
Robbie bites back his smile, turning to focus on his food.
Dallas takes a few steps backwards, hands held up in surrender.
Logan disappears somewhere, I don’t even know.
I turn to see Coach Draper standing right there, making himself a cup of coffee. And it’s just my luck, because in the years I’ve been playing here at the Thunder, I’ve never even once seen the guy down here in the kitchen.
“Oh.” I swallow hard. “Um… h-hey Coach.”
Behind me, I hear Dallas snort, and I close my eyes, taking a mental note to punch him in his dick later when I get a chance. Clearing my throat, I stand a little taller, squaring my shoulders.
“What is it, Slater?” Coach turns to me, arching a brow as he takes a sip out of his mug.
Scratching at a non-existent itch at the back of my neck, my gaze flits to the side, searching for something, I don’t even know what.
“Um, I was just wondering, if um—” I glance sideways to where Logan is looking at me from the corner of his eye as he pretends to search through the fridge. “What… ummm…”
“I don’t got all fuckin’ day, son,” Coach presses, chomping his gum like a horse.
“We were just wondering what hotel we’re staying at up in Halifax?” Logan asks, turning to Coach.
I release the breath I’ve been holding, and I swear I could kiss my best friend right now.
“Eh?” Coach frowns, clearly confused.
“Round one,” Logan clarifies. “What hotel are we staying at?”
“What do I look like?” Coach barks. “The fucking travel manager?”
Logan throws his hands in the air. “I mean, I just… I thought you’d know, is all.”
Coach Draper shakes his head, looking Logan up and down with serious derision, and I have to bite back a laugh, but then he turns to me and I can’t help but cower.
“Slater, you should know better than anyone to be thinking about anything other than your next game because the way you were skating out there this morning, you’ll be lucky if your ass isn’t benched by the time we even make it to Halifax.
” Coach shakes his head again, turning and walking for the door, but not before shouting to everyone in the room, “Team meeting in five minutes, knuckleheads!”
“Yeah, man,” Robbie laughs, slapping my shoulder. “You’re totally his favorite.”
I roll my eyes, shoving him off me as I go back to getting myself something to eat before I’m late for the team meeting and Coach really does bench my ass.
By the time I make it home from the practice facility, I’m met with my dad and Lucky having some sort of impromptu dance-off in the living room.
My dad is twerking like his rent is due, and Lucky is doing some sort of breakdance move that is really just her on her butt, one leg and one arm in the air while she tries and fails to spin.
I stand back, watching on with a smile because I have no idea what’s going on, but it’s hilarious to watch my dad’s lanky-ass body trying to keep up with a five-year-old with stores of endless energy.
When the Taylor Swift song finishes and changes to a Rouse song, my dad busts out the air guitar and starts giving us a live performance of one of his band’s biggest early-nineties hits.
Lucky runs to me and I crouch down, lifting her into the air as she cheers her grandfather on when he drops to his knees, belting out the bridge.
“What’s going on?” I ask, sufficiently confused.
“It’s a talent show,” Lucky says as if that much is obvious. “Only, we’re both the winners.”
I nod slowly. “Who was the judge?”
She points to the couch where a line-up of plushies sits facing the makeshift dance floor.
“Ah.” I nod again.
“How was practice, dude?” Dad asks, hopping up from the floor and ditching his performance half-way through when the attention is no longer on him.
“It was good.” I place Lucky on the island counter and move around to the fridge, retrieving a Gatorade and opening it, chugging almost half in one go.
“Plans tonight?”
“We were all supposed to have dinner at Logan’s, but he just called me because he got home to find a pipe had burst and his apartment was apparently flooded.”
“I’m thinking of cooking up a feast,” Dad says. “You can invite ’em around here.”
I look at Lucky, who is too busy pressing buttons on her iPad to know what we’re talking about, my brows knitting together when I turn back to my dad with a questioning glance.
He shrugs, folds his arms across his chest, and offers me a knowing smile. “You could…”
I consider what he’s saying. And, yes, I could. And I probably should. But can I? My heart hammers against my sternum at the thought. That’s a lot on Lucky. She’s not great with new people one-on-one, but six-on-one?
“Hey, Lucky Duck?”
Lucky’s head snaps up, her big brown eyes finding mine. “Yeah, Daddy?”
“How would you feel if Daddy invited some of his friends over to visit tonight?”
Her lips form a perfect circle. “Who?”
“Some of my friends that I play hockey with,” I say. “Robbie Mason and his girlfriend, Fran. Dallas Shaw and the lady he’s marrying soon, Emily. And my best friend, Logan, and his girlfriend, Millie.”
I can tell by the way her chest hitches that the thought of meeting so many new people at once makes her nervous.
“They’re all super friendly, I promise,” I assure her. “And Hannah will be here, too. And Allie.”
“And me!” my dad pipes up, playfully nudging Lucky, offering her a wink.
Lucky’s lips twist to the side as she considers the proposition.
“And if you feel at all overwhelmed or nervous in here”—I place my hand over her chest, over her heart—“you just let me know, and I’ll tell everyone to leave.”
Her eyes flare. “Daddy, that’s rude.”
I shake my head. “No, baby. If ever you’re uncomfortable, no matter when, no matter what, I need you to know that you can always say no. That goes for now, and that goes for always. And I need you to promise me that.”
“I promise.”
I don’t know if she really understands what I’m talking about, and I hate that I even have to tell her. But I will continue instilling this into her for as long as I live to catch a breath.
For now, though, tonight is all that matters, and I want her to know she has the final say. I don’t care if Dallas is half-way through his fucking meal. If Lucky wants him gone, he’s out of here.
“So, what do you say, Lucky Duck? Wanna meet some of my friends tonight?”
Her hands twist together in her lap, and I place my hand over hers, and she looks up at me. “Okay, Daddy.”