Chapter 4
Chapter Four
McKenna laughed at a joke Tank made, the two of them sitting together in a corner of the hotel restaurant.
The rest of the team, as well as the coaches and everyone else who traveled with the Stingrays, were scattered around the same place, all of them waiting for dinner to be served.
The hotel they were staying in had a decent restaurant, so whenever they traveled to Tampa, they simply ate there.
The kitchen had been amenable to preparing a high-carb meal, low on fat.
Tonight’s fare was salmon and wild rice, McKenna noticed, as the servers began delivering plates to the other tables.
“Thanks,” Tank said to the server when she dropped off their meals, asking if they needed drink refills.
“I’m good,” McKenna said, pointing to her still-full water glass.
“Me too.”
The two of them started digging in as the server moved on, delivering the rest of the food.
“This is good,” McKenna said, pleasantly surprised by the light lemon flavor of the flaky fish. Dinners on the road tended to be hit or miss.
“It really is.”
Ordinarily, McKenna ate with Benny, Roger, and a couple of the team’s trainers, so she wasn’t surprised by the curious look her boss gave her when she said she was joining Tank tonight.
It was unusual for a social media director to travel with the team, but Benny had discovered early on that she was a wonderful photographer, so he expanded her role to include covering away games in that capacity.
Initially, it was supposed to be a short-term thing, lasting only until the team’s photographer returned from maternity leave.
Then, because the new mother was breast-feeding, it was decided that McKenna would continue traveling until the baby was older, at which point the photographer would return full time.
McKenna loved the travel, so it worked well, both for her social media posts and for Benny, who was starting to rely on her as much as his right hand, Roger. Her boss had mentioned on their last road trip that he’d like her to continue traveling with them, even after the photographer’s return.
Tank got a few sideways glances as well, when he told Blake and Rook he was eating with her. The guys had offered to make room for her at their table, and McKenna was more than ready to pull up a chair, but Tank said no, claiming he needed to talk to her about an upcoming interview.
“What interview are you worried about?” she asked, after a couple minutes of eating in silence.
Tank gave her a funny look. “What?”
“You told the guys you wanted to talk to me about an interview.”
His expression cleared. “Oh. I lied. Just wanted you all to myself.”
McKenna wasn’t sure what to make of that statement because…what?
Unable to come up with a suitable response, she merely said, “Oh,” and tucked back into her food.
Glancing around the restaurant, she caught more than a few people casting looks in their direction.
Which was unsurprising. She was sure it must look strange for the quirky social media girl to be sitting alone with the team hottie.
“I like your shirt,” Tank said, grinning at her Mickey Mouse shirt that said, “I’m not arguing. I’m explaining why I’m right.” As always, it was a gift from her mom, and probably an accurate one, as McKenna was headstrong and vocal when it came to things she was knowledgeable about.
There were a couple of hours between dinner and the time she left for the game, so she’d change into her official Stingrays attire after they ate, just in case she spilled food on herself, something she did too frequently.
Her mom always joked that even at twenty-four, she was still as messy as a toddler at mealtimes.
Tank’s phone pinged for the tenth time since they’d sat down. He glanced at the screen, then flipped it face down on the table again without replying.
“It won’t bother me if you want to text back.”
He shook his head. “No response necessary.”
“Are all those texts from the same person?”
Tank grimaced. “They’re from Lara. She and Emily are apparently doing happy hour at some country club. They keep texting me pictures of their sexually suggestive cocktails, wishing I was there.”
“What’s a sexually suggestive cocktail?” McKenna asked.
“First round was Sex on the Beach, second was Buttery Nipples, this time they’re having Blowjob shots.”
McKenna winced. “Don’t envy them the headaches they’re going to have tomorrow.”
“Oh yeah. They’re definitely wasted.”
“Have you seen them since that video went viral?” McKenna asked, hating that she cared about his answer more than she should. Tank was a coworker, so who he slept with—as long as it wasn’t in public and in front of a camera—was none of her business.
He shook his head, and she felt an instant wave of relief. She told herself it was because she didn’t need to deal with any more bad press surrounding Tank and his ménage à trois partners, but that was a lie.
He’d been on his best behavior since that stupid video, so it was easy for her to forget what a cocky playboy he’d been prior to his suspension.
Discovering that he was still hooking up with those two women would tarnish her new impression of him.
Because this version of Tank was a good guy, someone who was great with kids, respectful of veterans, and someone she was starting to consider a friend.
She wasn’t sure he’d say the same thing about her, because the two of them were opposites from the word go. Part of her wondered if he was just hanging around her because he thought it might get him out of hot water quicker.
She hated to dash his hopes on that, if so.
It hadn’t even been three weeks since the video hit TikTok, and while the hubbub was starting to die down, there were still a lot of negative comments flying around.
She’d overheard Benny telling Roger just yesterday that Hugh hadn’t landed yet, temper-wise.
The general manager was still pissed as hell, so one misstep and the house of cards they’d been building could collapse.
McKenna had hoped Hugh and James were bluffing about breaking Tank’s contract due to his behavior off the ice—after all, he was one of their best players—but she’d done some research and learned that other hockey players had lost their jobs for a variety of reasons, ranging from drug and alcohol abuse to domestic violence to extremely controversial remarks in the media.
She didn’t think Tank’s behavior in the video was quite that bad, but considering the recent poor publicity was just one offense in a long list, she could understand Hugh being at the end of his rope.
“They weren’t bothered by the video?”
“No. Lara’s the type of woman who craves constant attention, so I’m not surprised she found the whole thing funny.
I haven’t heard from Emily, who’s a bit more reserved.
I don’t have a clue what she thinks, though usually it’s whatever Lara tells her to think.
Lara’s very open about her bisexuality, but Emily’s first foray into both a threesome and sex with a woman was what the three of us did together. ”
McKenna held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there. I don’t need any more details than that. What happens between you and your girlfriends can stay between the three of you.”
He grinned, and she wished his smile didn’t have such a strong impact on her libido.
The second he flashed those pearly whites, her body woke right the hell up.
So much so, she’d considered packing her vibrator on this trip.
She’d quickly dismissed the thought, but now she was suddenly regretting leaving it behind.
She’d never been an overly sexual person.
She liked sex fine with her previous lovers, but she wasn’t the type of woman who needed sex regularly.
It was kind of rare for her to pull out a vibrator.
As a single woman, her horniness was usually driven by a sexy movie or steamy romance novel, and given the fact she worked constantly, who had time for either of those things?
One thing that had never prompted a need for her vibrator was a simple smile flashed her direction by an oversexed, cocky, gorgeous hockey player.
Until Tank.
Dammit.
Lately, her vibrator was getting a regular workout. So much so, she’d gone online to look for different models. because she was feeling the need for some variety after using her tried and true so many nights in a row.
“I told you. They aren’t my girlfriends. In fact, I have a confession to make,” Tank said, leaning closer, lowering his voice. “I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
McKenna waited for him to add some clarifier to that. Like, he hadn’t had one in several years or since high school or something. But he didn’t. He let the statement stand on its own.
“As in never, never?”
He shrugged. “When I was in high school, I lived and breathed hockey, always skating, drilling, playing. Much as it might surprise you to hear, girls took a backseat to that.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Tank laughed. “I swear. I was solely focused on making it to the big leagues, and then when I did…” He let the suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows fill in that blank for her.
“You discovered puck bunnies.”
“I was nineteen years old and had beautiful women throwing themselves at me left and right. Who was I to deny them a night with a hockey god?”
His question was a throwback to the Tank she’d known pre-suspension. An arrogant, swaggering boast meant to annoy her. And if he’d said it a month ago, his comment would have done just that. Had her rolling her eyes and dismissing him as a shallow manwhore.
But tonight, she could see the twinkle in his eyes, which were crinkled at the edges with laugh lines.
“You’re regressing,” she muttered, even though she knew he was joking.
“Nope. Just stating facts. Or at least the way I saw things. It’s pretty easy for a nineteen-year-old guy wearing an NHL jersey and making bank to start believing his own press.”