What If I See You (Anaheim Stars Hockey #4)

1. Griffin

CHAPTER ONE

GRIFFIN

“ F lip the wiener, Ollenberg!”

“I’m doing it, Blackstone! I’m doing?—”

“No, you’re not! You’re fucking it up!” he gripes, flustered and frustrated. “Hurry up before they flip their cock! Fucking flip the goddamn wiener already and make it stick this time!”

“Do you not see my eyes are closed?” I shout back, my adrenaline soaring to levels similar to when I’m on the ice. I slap my hands across the table trying to locate my wiener. “Help me find my wiener guys, because I can’t see for shit right now!”

“Got that right.” Ella laughs and claps her hands. “Scarlett is the queen of the cock! You get it girl! Wrap your hand around that girthy cock and flip the hell out of it!”

“Yeah,” Corrigan adds, snickering. “Double fist it so it doesn’t slip from your grasp and then you flip that cock like your life depends on it!”

Finally, my hand connects with the rubber wiener I flipped a few seconds ago and I grip it in my hands.

“Yes Griff! You’ve got it.” Harrison is so the better teammate when it comes to game night. Always supportive. Never a dick like the rest of us. “Now flip it! Flip it good!”

I toss the wiener lightly up in the air and hear the recognizable sound of the suction cup bottom hitting the tabletop. It’s followed by pats on the back and cheers from my teammates.

“FUCK YES! You did it, Ollenberg!” Bodhi exclaims.

“Knew you would get it done, man,” Ledger says, clapping for me.

“Finally,” Barrett chides. “A man should know how to stick his wiener by now, Ollenberg.”

“That was an impressive wiener grip,” Ella tells me with a conceding nod. When I open my eyes, I shrug a shoulder. “It’s nothing really. I’ve been practicing for this my whole life.”

She laughs. “Gripping your wiener or flipping it?”

“Don’t let him fool you, babe,” August says, wrapping an arm around his wife. “Griffin’s hand rarely leaves his wiener. The fact he let it slip a few times there was a rarity in itself.”

“No kidding,” I laugh with my friend and shake out my hand. “I was beginning to think someone pranked me by rubbing lube all over that wiener before I even touched it.”

Scarlett nudges Ella and murmurs, “Good idea. We better remember that for next time.”

I lean forward. “You’re not invited next time, Dayne.”

“What?” Ledger steps out from the kitchen with two beers in his hand—one for himself and one he’s holding out to me. “What the fuck for? I brought you a beer and everything?”

“Sorry, Ledge. I was talking to your cousin over here.”

“Yeah, your friend is a sore loser, Ledger.” Scarlett winks at me. She knows I know she’s kidding but at least she lets me hate on her for a few minutes.

I don’t really hate her. Scarlett Dayne is one of the sweetest, most hardworking women I know and Oliver is a lucky man to have her by his side.

One of the cellphones piled up on the coffee table in front of us dings, bringing our attention to the center of the room.

“Whose is it?” I ask.

“Mine, I think,” Corrigan says.

“Better answer it in case it’s Daddy dearest.” We all laugh but I’m pretty damn sure there are seven buttholes in this room that just puckered at the thought of Corrigan’s dad, who just happens to be our coach, showing up at our hangout. Don’t get me wrong. We love the guy, but that doesn’t mean we want to be playing Cock versus Wiener, or realistically named Chicken versus Hotdog, with him. Especially Bodhi. He’s a brave guy for standing up to Coach about his relationship with his daughter. Things may have started out super weird for the two of them but watching them together these past several weeks has been fun. Corrigan is great and she fits in with all of us so well.

Okay, okay, maybe I’m just a tiny bit jealous, but who wouldn’t be? Oliver and August and even Pickle-pants himself, Bodhi, have found partners who make them deliriously happy. It’s cute and gives me the warm fuzzies even if I do want to throw up in my mouth sometimes watching them all lovey-dovey together.

“Oh nooooo!” Corrigan’s brows pull together as she reads the message on her phone.

“Who is it, babe?” Bodhi asks, his hands around her waist.

“It’s Layken.” She sighs. “She lost her job.”

“Wait.” I scowl. “What? Layken from the hospital?” I’ve worked with her a few times. As the Development Coordinator for Pacific Children’s charity foundation, she introduced herself to us several years ago when she took on the job. She’s the reason Coach plays Santa for the kids during the holidays. We’ve always helped wherever and whenever we could and just last month we helped out with her Children’s Art Auction. It was a huge fundraiser for the hospital. The largest they’ve had to date.

Corrigan nods. “Yeah. The hospital got bought out a couple weeks ago. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t get to stay because the guy from University Hospital has seniority over her. She and her boss were both cut. Damn…this is terrible.”

“Brandon Jeffries?” Harrison asks, but Corrigan shrugs and shakes her head.

“I don’t know him. Is that his name?”

Harrison nods. “Yeah. The guy’s about five years too late for retirement if you ask me. He hasn’t done shit when it comes to community involvement in his fundraising for years. He merely writes to the celebrity agents and encourages them to have their clients make year-end donations. Tax write-off for them and a financial win for the hospital.”

“How do you know this?” Corrigan asks?

“Because my agent calls me about it every year and asks if I want to donate and I always tell them no because I give my donation to Pacific Children’s.”

“Ugh, so there goes any fun for the kids who are actually stuck inside the walls of the hospital.” Ella frowns.

“And there goes my best friend’s job,” Corrigan mumbles. “What am I going to do without her?”

“Where is she now?” Bodhi asks.

She shrugs. “Heading home, I guess.”

“Nah. Tell her to come here,” I tell Corrigan. “She shouldn’t be alone when the world just shit on her.”

Corrigan turns to me, her eyes hopeful. “Oh, my gosh, are you serious? Because I don’t want her to be alone either.” Her shoulders fall. “Layken doesn’t come from the best home life. She doesn’t really get much love from her family so she’s kind of navigating life all alone. I love her so much. She doesn’t deserve this kind of shit sandwich.”

“Of course.” I shrug. “We all at least know who she is and we’re just hanging out. Maybe it’ll help distract her from her shit day. And besides,” I say, raising the bottle in my hand, “I’ve got alcohol. Just tell her to check in at the security desk and give her name. I’ll call down there and make sure they know to let her in. What’s her last name again?”

“Hobbs. Layken Hobbs. Thank you so much, Griffin. You’re the best.”

“That okay with you guys? I should’ve asked first. I apologize.”

Everyone around the room unequivocally nods. “Yeah, of course!” Scarlett says. “We’re good people and she’s good people, so…” She shrugs with a smile and Corrigan blows her a kiss.

“Thanks Scarlett.”

She sends a few more texts to her friend and then sets her phone back on the coffee table. “She’s on her way. Thanks again, Griffin. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. How do they say it? Mi casa es moo casa .”

Corrigan laughs. “Yeah something like that.”

“You know he’s just inviting her here to flirt with her and eventually get into her pants, right?” Ledger snickers from across the room.

I flip him off. “What the hell are you talking about Dayne?”

“Poor vulnerable woman meets flirty aloof hockey guy who promises a night to wash away all her hurt and anger. Come on. It’s not like you haven’t played that card before.”

Standing to reach for my phone I bring a hand to my chest. “Who me? Come on, Ledge. I may be a helpless flirt much of the time, but I would never do that. She’s Corri’s best friend and she’s had a shitty day. Any friend of hers is a friend of ours.”

I don’t miss the corner of Corrigan’s mouth lifting and wonder what she might be thinking but push away the curiosity. “Plus, it’s not like she doesn’t know us. Surely we can help lift her spirits a little for the rest of the evening. I’m just trying to be nice.”

“I think it’s very nice of you Griffin. She’ll appreciate it very much,” Ella pipes in.

I raise my brows and cock my head at Ledger. “See?”

Fifteen minutes later, there’s a knock at my door. I get up to answer it and Corrigan comes with me, no doubt ready to offer a welcoming hug to her best friend. I turn the knob and open my door and in tandem, Corrigan and I drop our jaws and stare at the crying wet mess of a woman standing before us.

Sometimes when it comes to women I think I’m Superman. I can get a woman to laugh or smile so easily thanks to my positive and fun-loving personality. But if there’s a kryptonite to my Superman, it’s a woman in tears. I’m too empathetic of a person to see anyone cry, let alone a woman. Anytime I see a woman crying I feel for them immediately and try to do anything to make them feel better.

But this?

Layken Hobbs standing in my doorway, the front of her literally soaking wet with mud dripping from her hair, her face, and her body.

Yeah. I don’t know how to fix this.

But I instantly want to hurt whoever it was that did this to her.

“Oh no! Layken! What the hell happened?” Corrigan pulls her inside while I shut the door.

“Are you hurt?” I ask, sincerely concerned. Everyone in the living room is now watching.

“No. I’m fine,” Layken squeaks, trying to rein in her tears but failing miserably. “I mean my ego is obliterated and my tits are a soggy mess but what’s another sprinkle on top of my shit sundae anyway?”

Well, that’s a way of putting it.

Also, I’m not looking at her soggy tits.

Rephrase: I’m trying very hard not to look at her soggy tits.

But she said soggy tits and now I really, really, REALLY, need to look at them.

Just a quick peek.

Won’t hurt anyone, right?

Okay. Yep. They’re a hot mess.

Wet. Muddy. Well-defined under her sopping blouse.

Probably very pretty when not covered in mud.

Actually, even splashed with mud they’re pretty.

Wait. No.

She’s crying.

Not funny, Griffin.

Okay all done looking at the soggy tits.

See?

Didn’t hurt anyone.

Corrigan takes her hand and leads her inside. “What happened to you?”

Layken swipes at her tears, which only spreads the mud on her cheeks across her face. I don’t bother to tell her it looks even worse now. “I parked around the corner and was walking down the sidewalk and out of nowhere this asshole driver got a little too close.” She pauses and cocks her head, bobbing it this way and that. “Or now that I think about it, he probably did it on purpose because he’s a pecker pinching wiener beater, but he drove right through a huge puddle on the road and it soaked me from head to toe.”

Pecker pinching wiener beater…

She said that like it’s a nickname she uses every day.

A girl after my own heart.

“Oh Lake, I’m so sorry,” Corrigan tells her. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She turns to me. “Do you have anything she can change into?”

“No.” Layken shakes her head. “That’s o?—”

“Of course, I do. I’ve got a closet full of comfy pants and sweatshirts.” I gesture to my bedroom. “If you don’t care that they’re not the most fashionable, and will be very oversized on you, I’ll grab you a few things. And feel free to use my shower if you want to wash off. We can wash and dry your clothes while you’re here.”

“That’s so kind of you, Griffin.” She sniffles and my chest tightens.

“It’s nothing. Give me two minutes and I’ll have you all set up and ready to go.”

I leave her with Corrigan and run back to my bedroom, quickly picking up any random dirty clothes on the floor and tossing them into my hamper and then I double check my bed to make sure it’s completely made and looks nice. Not that I’m trying to impress anyone, but I certainly don’t want to come across as a slob or someone who doesn’t care. Once the room looks presentable, I throw open my closet and sift through everything I have that could possibly fit Layken’s body without sliding off her completely. Obviously, everything I have will be too big for her, but I find a pair of pajama pants with a tie on the front so she can adjust them and then I grab a t-shirt and one of my hockey sweatshirts so she can choose whatever she wants.

I lay the clothes out on my bed and then step into my bathroom to make sure it’s presentable too. I pull out a couple clean towels and place them in the warmer for her and then meet them both back out in the living room where Layken is wiping her face with a paper towel.

“I’ve laid out a few things on my bed and there are towels in the towel warmer next to the shower if you want to jump in. I can show you where everything is.”

Layken glances at me, her honey-brown eyes the shape of saucers. Her gaze reminds me of a sad lost puppy dog and I swear to God if she asks for a fucking pony right now I’ll do all I can to get one for her. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Absolutely.” I smile at her and nod. “My house is your house. Whatever I can get for you so you’re comfortable.”

“Thank you, Griffin.” Her voice is soft and meek. A change from the woman I’ve known to be peppy, confident, and witty on any regular day.

“You’re welcome.”

God, the urge to wrap her up in my arms and tell her it’s all going to be okay is real, but I barely know her. We’re not exactly good friends so hugging her like that would be weird. She follows me back down the hall silently except for the random sniffling, and for the first time ever, I’m struggling to come up with something to say.

For the love of Christ, say something, Griffin.

Anything.

Put the girl out of her misery.

“Maybe when you’re done you can flip the cock.”

What. The. Fuck?

Mother fucking hell, Griffin!

Anything but that!

Cringing, I turn to see her staring at me, one brow raised. I shake my head and palm my forehead, laughing nervously.

“Shit. I’m sorry. That came out all wrong.”

She chuckles. “You think?”

She chuckled.

I heard it.

She’s had a shit day but there, right there.

I made her laugh.

“I’m sorry. We we’re…it was a…this game…earlier…I forgot you weren’t here and have no idea what I’m talking about.”

With a speck of humor in her eyes, she twists her mouth. “I’m sorry, I don’t. But cock flipping sounds…interesting.”

“I’m really sorry to hear about your job.”

“Thanks,” she says with a shrug before she pushes back her shoulders. “I know at some point I’ll get to my when-one-door-closes-another-one-opens phase, but for now, it’s been a super fucking terrible day and I just need to wallow.”

“You have my full permission to wallow all you want. I’ll even give you a beer if you want when you’re done.”

“Got anything stronger than a beer?”

“Sure do. Vodka? Tequila? Bourbon? What’s your poison?”

“Vodka would be perfect.”

“Vodka it is. Towels are in that dryer right there,” I tell her, gesturing to the heated box next to the shower. Feel free to use anything in here. I hope you don’t mind the pajama pants.” I gesture to the ones I have on. “It’s kind of my thing.”

“I’m aware.” She smiles. “And it’s perfectly fine. Thank you again, Griffin. I really appreciate your kindness.”

“Of course. Anytime. If there’s anything else you need, just ask.”

I rejoin the group in the living room making small talk and then head to the kitchen to pour Layken a drink. “Corrigan, what does Layken like in her vodka?”

“Cranberry juice if you have it.”

I swing open the door to the fridge and smile when I spy a bottle of cranberry juice inside. “Yep. Got it.”

Several minutes later, Layken steps out into the living room, and my chest tightens all over again. Wearing a pair of light blue pajama pants with cinnamon rolls all over them that she’s rolled at the bottom and my hockey sweatshirt that is four sizes too big on her, she’s the cutest thing I think I’ve ever seen. Her wet blonde hair hangs down past her shoulders and she’s wearing a pair of black rimmed glasses that she didn’t have on before.

She must wear contacts.

Christ, she’s adorable in my clothes.

She wears those pajama pants like they were made for her.

Watching her from the kitchen, suddenly she’s not Layken Hobbs, Corrigan’s best friend.

She’s Layken Hobbs, the cutest most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life and I think I could spend the rest of eternity making sure that smile on her face never fades.