Chapter 9
PENN
I do all my best thinking in the shower. There’s something about breathing in clouds of steam as scalding water hits my sore muscles that relaxes my brain and helps me make a game plan for whatever situation I’m in.
Tonight, however, I can’t even catch a damn second alone with my mess of thoughts about what on earth I’ve gotten myself into with Hazel because Fisher won’t stop pounding on the bathroom door.
“Matthews, would you finish primping already so we can go out?” he yells, his voice muffled by the jets of water currently raining down on my head. The Lions always fork out for us to stay in the nice hotels when we’re on the road, so the showers have amazing water pressure.
Before my NHL contract, the only time I’d ever been in a hotel like this one was my freshman year of high school.
Hazing on our school’s hockey team was very much alive, two of my fellow freshmen and I were tasked with sneaking onto the property after hours to skinny dip in the hotel’s luxurious outdoor pool.
Still amazed I got away with that one, actually.
“One more minute!” I yell back at Fisher. It’s a blatant lie; I still have shampoo in my hair. But Fisher can take a damn chill pill—he spent about an hour hogging the bathroom before I finally got my turn.
“Seriously, hurry the puck up, I’m hungry,” Noah’s voice suddenly joins the complaining on the other side of the bathroom door. But he’s also one to talk. Lucky asshole got his own room while I’m bunking with Fisher, so he got to shower in peace.
Reluctantly, I rinse my hair and turn off the water. “I’ll be out in a second, hold your damn horses.”
“Yeehaw!” Fisher hollers in response, and despite my annoyance, I have to laugh.
We’re in Texas right now. We beat the Spurs two-one tonight, and though we have another game in Denver tomorrow night, our plane doesn’t leave until ten a.m. So tonight we’re going out. Just for food and a couple drinks, nothing crazy.
Even Downsby was on board. Having a girlfriend really has brought out his sociable side—although I’m sure he’ll spend all night texting Ally from whatever bar we end up at.
And speaking of texting girlfriends…
I wrap myself in a fluffy towel, then grab my phone from the bathroom vanity. Wiping the steam off the screen, I re-read the texts Hazel sent last night after she went home.
Unknown Number
It’s Hazel, and now you have my number too.
Penn
Probably best if I have my girlfriend’s number ;) All okay down there?
I take a moment to add her to my contacts.
Bubbles
Fine. Chadwick was actually in bed in the spare room, thank goodness. Thanks again for tonight.
Penn
Anytime, Bubbles.
Bubbles
If we’re going to do this thing, you’re really going to have to stop calling me that.
Penn
Too late, I already saved your contact in my phone as Bubbles.
Bubbles
Of course you did.
I went to sleep smiling last night after we texted, imagining her all tucked into bed wearing her granny-getup, huffing to herself.
But today, I haven’t heard from her. And I’ve found myself thinking about her multiple times.
How we’re really going to keep up this act for six whole weeks.
How she clearly didn’t believe me when I said I was sick of casual hookups.
How her eyes sparked with…something… when I told her we’d have to kiss at some point to make our act believable.
That look in her eye has had me imagining kissing her ever since.
How I’d take her bun down and watch those wild curls fall down her back while using my other to tilt her chin up so I had the perfect angle to lower my lips to hers and kiss her until Chad-dick is nothing but a distant memory for her.
I swallow, my throat feeling thick, and push the thought of having a breathless Hazel in my arms out of my head.
But one quick text to her couldn’t hurt.
Penn
Everything okay? Just checking in.
Doing my duty as her fake boyfriend, I think as I click my phone screen off and walk out of the bathroom to face a very hangry Noah and Fisher.
Half an hour later, the three of us are at a bar with ice cold beers and gigantic plates of Tex-Mex in front of us—guess everything really is bigger in Texas—and all is forgiven.
“So the other guys are going to Outlaw later,” Fisher says before he folds his sixth fajita in half and practically inhales it.
“You say that like we should know what Outlaw is,” I reply with an eye roll.
Personally, I’m happy staying put where we are—it’s warm right now, even for Texas in February, and we’re sitting in a busy beer garden with good vibes and great music playing.
There’s even one of those fake bull-riding arenas in the center of the bar, which I’m sure we can persuade Fisher to have a go on if we play our cards right.
“Only one of the most famous nightclubs in Texas!” Fisher exclaims through a mouthful of food, looking horrified.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to talk with food in your mouth?” Noah grumbles.
Fisher swallows his food and wipes his mouth with a napkin.
“Sorry, Mom,” he says with an eye roll, before perking up as he continues.
“But I think we should go, too. Carver and Sandine said it’s packed with wall-to-wall tens.
” His eyes glaze over a little. “Do you think the girls wear Daisy Dukes and cowboy boots to the bar?”
I shrug, not really caring if they do. “Maybe.”
“What’s with you lately?” Fisher frowns at me in concern. “Aren’t you from Cowboyland, Canada? Home to the world’s biggest rodeo? Surely the thought of a little Daisy Duke action should get you going.”
“I’m just surprised you’ve never been to this Outlaw place before if it’s the best club in Texas.” I change the subject swiftly.
“I tried to, a few summers ago when I was in town for the weekend with some buddies, but I was way underage at the time, and no matter how good my fake ID was, they weren’t accepting it.”
I grab a tortilla chip from my plate and use it to scoop up a piece of chicken. “Well, speaking of my homeland, it’s still weird to me that you can’t drink legally here until, like, your junior year of college. Back in Alberta, you can go to the bars at eighteen.”
Fisher waves a dismissive hand. “Yes, but someone told me once that it’s so cold in winter there the girls have to wear snowsuits out to the club. And while those look very cute on a ski slope, they don’t do it for me when I’m trying to get my dance on with someone.” He peers at me. “Is it true?”
“Oh yeah,” I drawl in a cowboy twang. “Complete with snow boots and ski goggles to see in the blizzards. And then after a long night pounding shots of maple syrup, everyone laces up their skates to skate home because the roads are too frozen to drive on…but you have to be stealthy, otherwise, the Mounties will pull you over for Skating Under the Influence.”
Fisher’s brows fly up. “Really?”
“No, you idiot,” I reply.
Noah snorts with laughter. “In Fishy’s defense, you did tell us you almost got mauled by an angry moose once.”
I turn to Noah and shake my head at him in disbelief. “How is that even close to the same thing?”
Noah shrugs. “Just saying, man, it’s a foreign mystery of wilderness up there.”
“I heard you have milk in bags,” Fisher adds with a shudder.
“Just out east,” I say, a tad defensively. Then, I acquiesce. “Okay, I’ll admit that part is weird. But seriously, how do you two know so little about Canada when you literally play in a sports league that has seven teams based there? Like you’ve both been there multiple times.”
“Mostly inside hotels and arenas.” Fisher sips on his beer smugly. “I just don’t think we’ve been exposed to the dark underbelly of real Canadian culture yet. Snowsuits and all.”
“Fine, I’ll take you out to show you ‘real’ Canada next time we have a game there.”
“Nice.” Fisher grins, then nods at a group of pretty girls about our age sitting a few tables over. “And in the meantime, shall we go and see if any of those ladies are riding the bull later tonight?”
“Go for it,” I reply vaguely, sliding my phone out of my pocket.
No new texts.
She’s probably just busy studying. Still, a strange sense of unease gathers in my stomach.
I’m naturally protective of people I care about—likely as a result of having to be for most of my life—and while I don’t know Hazel too well yet, I do care for her well-being at the very least, and the thought of her alone in an apartment with Chad-dick makes me feel uneasy.
I don’t think he’d physically hurt her—I think his style with women is more charming before switching to gaslighting them—but I don’t like him being there in 2B with her.
I get the feeling he’s going to verbally chip away at her defenses, trying to make her believe she’s somehow at fault for his bad behavior.
While Hazel is strong and feisty, they also dated for a whole year.
There must be some lingering feelings there on her part, and I don’t want Chadwick to have a chance to use her vulnerability to his advantage.
I’ve seen this shit before. My dad is a master manipulator who preys on everyone’s emotions and vulnerabilities.
Like when he knew I’d do pretty much anything to earn his love—which he was never going to give me—and I was stupid enough to almost let it cost me my future.
Fisher suddenly reaches over and plucks my phone from my hand.
“What the hell, dude?” I look up at him in annoyance.
He taunts me with a grin before tossing it on the bench next to me. “Now that I have your attention, mind telling us what the hell’s been going on with you lately?”
I look from him to Noah, who nods. “Spill it, Matthews.”
Fisher crosses his arms. “We want to know more about what’s going on with you and a certain prickly downstairs neighbor.”
“We’ve been…hanging out.”
“More times than just last night?” Fisher prods.
“Yup.” No time like the present to get my new “dating Hazel” status out in the open, I guess. I wasn’t lying about not wanting to go out and hook up with random women, despite how doubtful Hazel is about that.
For years now, I’ve been trading feelings and commitment for meaningless flings—and if I’m being honest, it got old a while ago.
Which means this fake dating thing with Hazel really does work perfectly for me.
because it covers my ass with the guys and gives me a break from a lifestyle I no longer want.
Well, it’s one of the reasons why this arrangement works for me.
The second is that, petty as it is, pissing off Chadwick is one of my favorite pastimes.
And he deserves to be miserable after what he did to Hazel.
“Hanging out as in, she’s the reason you don’t want to talk to other girls lately?” Fisher asks, his question cutting through my thoughts.
“Maybe...”
As if on cue, my phone lights up on the bench next to me, and I reach for it, quick as a flash.
“Is that her now?” Fisher asks smugly, then points at me. “And no more bullshit lies about texting your sister, either.”
I don’t even bother to respond that I really was texting my sister during trivia. Instead, I nod, relieved to look down and see Bubbles pop up on my phone. Finally.
“It’s her,” I confirm.
Noah swears. “Dammit, Ally was right.” Without missing a beat, he grabs his phone and starts texting her. “She’s going to be so smug about this.”
“About what?”
“She had a theory that you guys had a thing for each other. Said there’s a fine line between love and hate, whatever the hell that means.
I didn’t believe her at first. I said she was delusional because Hazel’s always pissed at you.
” He looks up from his phone and eyes me again.
“And to be honest, I thought she annoyed you, too. Like Fisher said at dinner last night, you made it sound like she was a total stick in the mud.”
“I always thought she was hot,” I say with a shrug. “I guess after we got to know each other a little, I realized I misjudged her personality. I like her.”
“Clearly.” Fisher waggles his brows. “Until last night, you’d never invited a girl to stay for dinner before.”
“And you’ll hopefully be seeing a lot more of her around the loft from now on, because I plan to keep hanging out with her.”
“Nice. I’m really happy for you, man,” Noah says, and he looks so genuinely happy for me that I feel bad for lying.
Just for a moment, though, because then Fisher adds, “And it’s not like I need a wingman. I’m just as good when I’m flying solo.”
“Well, let me help you pregame your night at least. I'll go get us another round of beers.” I jump to my feet, my phone in my hand.
Noah smirks. “Tell Hazel we say hi.”
I flip him the bird, then start walking over to the bar. The second I’m out of eyeshot of our table, I open the text.
Bubbles
Sorry, I was making use of the headphones you gave me and didn’t hear my phone. But I’m good. Did you win your game?
Penn
Course we did. Please tell me Chad-dick was watching and crying into his crutches?
Bubbles
Wouldn’t know, actually. Haven’t seen him all day, thank goodness. He was out and just came back about an hour ago, but I haven’t come out of my room since.
Knowing that asshole, he’s probably been out indulging in some extracurricular activities with a random woman, because that’s exactly the sort of thing Weatherby would do while trying to win back his girlfriend.
Penn
Good. And if he bothers you, Ally’s home upstairs. You can always sleep at our place if you need to get out of there. My bed is very comfortable ;)
Bubbles
I’m sure it is, but I’m fine. And I’ll lock my bedroom door tonight just in case.
Penn
That’s my girl.
Bubbles
Ew. Save those lines for when we’re within earshot of my ex.
Penn
Where’s the fun in that?
Bubbles
Goodnight, Playboy.
Penn
Goodnight, Hazel.
Bubbles
Gasp. My real name.
Penn
Sorry, does my girlfriend prefer to be referred to as Princess? Sunshine? Pookie?!
Bubbles
Damn you for making Bubbles sound not-so terrible.