Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
Hannah
It’s the first game of the season, and I wish like hell I was on the road with my team.
It’s what I live for . . . Adrenaline right before a game.
Crowds screaming in the stands. Sounds that come off the ice.
There’s this clawing need to be there, but instead, I’m holed up at Aiden’s house, lying back on his stupid ass couch, and watching the sports network while I wait for their game to start.
Granny shuffles into the living room, grumbling something unintelligible under her breath.
“What’s that?” I ask, sitting up to make room for her.
“This is a crock of shit.”
“Fuck them both. Wanna make a jailbreak?” I ask, and reach for my phone, sitting on the coffee table. “I’ve been cooped up for four damn weeks. That’s too long to stay out of trouble.”
“If it ain’t trouble, it sure the hell ain’t worth doin’.”
“Agreed. What are they gonna do? Ground us? Let’s go have some real fun,” I tell her, pulling up the Uber app.
“I’m gonna go take a whore’s bath and put on my dancin’ shoes. Will you grab my wheelchair? It’s in the hall closet,” she says.
I drag my ass off the couch to get ready, and just as I’m putting on my shoes, she shuffles back into the living room with a face full of makeup and ruby red lipstick.
“Damn, Granny. You out on the prowl tonight?”
“I’m always on the prowl.”
“Spoken like a true cougar.” I laugh, helping her into her wheelchair. “So why the wheelchair? I thought your hip didn’t hurt.”
“It doesn’t, ya brat. I’m just usin’ it to get us some good perks.”
Knowing she’s a damn liar, I laugh and roll her out to the Uber.
The sports bar is loud as hell, and there’s hardly an empty seat in the house when we finally come strolling in, which is no surprise at all since the Blaze is playing in Pittsburgh tonight.
I scan the area, looking for a place to sit and spot an empty low-top right next to the bar. It’s the perfect place to park Granny’s wheelchair and watch the game . . . which has already started.
Dammit.
I wheel her over to the table, never taking my eyes from the big screen above the bar.
“What the hell? Close your gap! Get under his hands and lift his stick! Don’t just reach. You could’ve snatched that puck up from underneath him!” I bark, irritated that Drew let the puck get past him.
A waiter comes over to take our drink order, but I can’t be bothered enough to look away from the TV to pay attention to anything going on around us.
“I’ll take an Ultra, dressed with salt and lime, please, and whatever Granny’s having . . . just put it all on my tab.”
“Hannah?” a woman’s sweet voice draws out, and I glance behind our server.
My heart lodges in my throat. Of all the fucking places in the world . . . she ends up here in the same place as me? Is the universe testing me?
“What are you doing here?” I ask flatly.
“Owen plays the Islanders tomorrow. We flew in early to see our families before his first game. You know how crazy the season can be.”
She tilts her glass in his direction, and the diamond sparkling on her left ring finger catches my attention.
I glance over at Owen standing at a table with a crowd gathered around him.
Still looks like the same fucking tool he was back when Savannah dated him.
Maybe I’m just bitter because he hurt Sean.
Either way, he’s a douchebag. My eyes fall back to her as she continues.
“Anyways, what a small world. How are you?”
I don’t know what to say. I’m so torn. A very conditioned part of me tells me I should be kind and respond politely, but then there’s this part of me just itching to claw her fucking face off.
Everything she did to Sean begins to play out in my mind—his excited expression when he thought he was going to be a dad.
The look on his face when she told him she cheated on him and the baby might not be his.
Just imagining the joy draining from his expression and the ache he must’ve felt in his chest, rips me to shreds.
I swallow the bile in my throat. It’s gross.
She’s gross. My teeth grind together, and heat creeps to my cheeks.
The more I think about how hurt and emasculated he felt, the more pissed off I get.
“You two know each other?” Granny asks, interrupting my thoughts, her eyes darting between me and Allie.
“Oh, yeah. We go way back,” Allie replies as if we’re old, long-lost friends and I’m not sitting here staring daggers at her.
Why the hell am I biting my tongue? Why? Sean stands up for me all the time. Why the hell am I not standing up for him?
“Remember that one time—”
“That’ll be all for now.” I finally find my voice, cutting off Allie as I give the waiter my full attention. “Thank you so much.”
Shifting my eyes back to Granny, I ignore Allie all together. “Oh yeah . . . We go waaaay back.”
“It’s so good to see you again.” Allie moves in to hug me, but I jerk away, not giving one single flying fuck about the stricken look on her face.
“Don’t fucking touch me. God, learn how to read a room,” I snap, then turn back to Granny. “We were acquaintances before she married Sean and cheated on him with his best friend. Isn’t that right, Allie?”
“W-what?” Allie’s brows knit together.
“You cheated on that sweet boy?” Granny asks, pursing her lips.
“Oh, that’s not even the half of it. She got pregnant in the process.” I raise a brow.
“What in the devil’s wrong with ya?”
“A lot is wrong with her, Granny. That man worships me like a queen and fucks me like a god.”
Did I just say that? Yes. Yes, I did. I wonder if this is how Granny feels anytime she opens her mouth? She’s always been one to say whatever the hell’s on her mind with no regrets. I’m finding this extremely liberating.
Allie tilts her head to the side, confusion written all over her face. “You’re not really his type.”
A couple of weeks ago that remark would’ve hurt me, but now it just gasses me up. I stand to face her.
“I know you’re not talking about my body, because my ass rivals yours, and we both know he loves a big ass.” I glance over at Granny and tap my pretty red nail against my bottom lip. “You think she said that ‘cause I’m quiet?”
For the first time since I’ve known her, Granny doesn’t utter a word; she just sits back, enjoying the show with a smirk.
I turn back to Allie. “I gotta tell you . . . it’s the quiet ones that are insane in bed, and well, you know how wild Sean likes it .
. . trust me, he stays satisfied. I have the face of an angel, the soul of a saint, and he chants my name like a fucking prayer while I’m on my knees worshiping him.
Don’t pretend to know me. You have no idea just how much his type I truly am. ”
I crowd her space and give her a slow once over.
“Sean is a good man, and he deserved better than you ever gave him. Now he has the best. You know? I really don’t understand women like you.
If you don’t want to be with someone, fucking leave.
Now scram. You’re interrupting my game, and my sweet Granny doesn’t like trash collecting around her table. ”
Falling back into my seat, I glance up at the TV screen right as Sean saves the net. “That’s it, baby! Woo! Way to catch the puck!”
“You heard her. Get on outta here,” Granny bites out.
I don’t take my eyes off the game until our server comes back a few minutes later with our drinks, setting them down on a coaster in front of us. That’s when I notice Allie’s finally gone.
Good riddance.
We both pick up our drinks, and Granny clinks her margarita glass against my beer bottle. “To class, sass, and the girl with the big ass.”
I bark out a laugh. God, I love her. These past few weeks we’ve spent together have been some of the best of my life.
“Let’s be real, there was nothing classy about what I said. I’ve never talked to someone like that before.” I turn in my seat to face her, tilting the beer bottle in her direction. “Well, I take that back. I’ve given Sean an earful before. Have you ever lost your shit on someone and—”
She raises a brow at me like that’s even a question, and I laugh.
“No, Granny. I know you’ve lost your shit on someone, but have you ever felt bad about it afterward? Everything I said was justified, and it felt good ripping into her in that moment, but maybe I was entirely too harsh. I shouldn’t have gone into—”
“Now I’m just gonna stop ya right there. You reap what ya sow, and that floozie deserved everything ya just dished out to 'er. You only feel bad 'cause ya have a kind and tender heart. Yer a better woman than me. I woulda knocked the Botox right off her forehead. I’m proud of ya, hun.”
“You know what? I think I might be a little proud of me too.” I smile at her, then glance back up at the screen.
“Oh, come the fuck on! They’re stacking the puck side!
If you keep forcing it there, you’re just skating into pressure.
Jesus Christ! Cycle it low. Make them chase.
Then hit the open guy on the weak side when they collapse! ”
“Holy shit! You’re the protégé,” a man at the table next to us says, and my head whips in his direction.
A pair of wide eyes meet mine.
“You’re the fucking protégé,” he says again with a laugh, catching other’s people’s attention. “I thought I recognized you, but I wasn’t sure until now. Can I have your autograph?”
“Mine?” I press my hand to my chest, my head rearing back. “Why?”
“Because you’re a fucking legend.” He stands up, making his way to the bar to grab a napkin and pen, then he heads back to our table and hands them to me.
What the actual hell is going on here? I only called one play . . . okay, two . . . and it wasn’t even a season game. I sign his napkin, and when I look up to hand it to him, men begin to gather at our table.
No way.