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After game thing with the team. I’ll find a way home.
I wait just a second for his response, which comes quickly.
Fine
That’s Cam.
I grab my tie, slip it on, but only tie it loosely. I don't button my top button either. We have to wear suits on game days, but after the game we’re all a lot more casual.
Thank God tonight Crew was the high scorer and Blake, as our goalie, had an incredible game, so they were the ones the press wanted to talk to and I got to avoid all of that.
I grab my stuff, slam my locker, and head down the hallway.
A bunch of players have already gathered. The room isn't really made for a bunch of hockey guys, and with the tight space and huge bodies, I don't see her right away.
But, like I have a radar built in, I find her within a minute.
She’s standing at the front of the room by two long tables arranged in an L shape. They're draped with white tablecloths and have desserts arranged on glass plates and trays on what look like white boxes that put everything on various levels. There's a rainbow of colors on top of cupcakes, cookies, what look like eclairs, and the fucking macarons.
I start toward her and it isn't until I get about halfway there that I take in the whole picture.
She's not standing there alone. She's talking to someone. Smiling up at someone.
No, not just anyone.
Coach Phillips.
And he’s standing a lot closer to her than he needs to in order to review his purchase order.
He towers over her, and even though she and I have been as together as two bodies can be, I marvel at how small she is next to him.
She looks gorgeous, wearing black leggings that hug her legs and ass, a long sweater over her Racketeers T-shirt, and the same black boots that she wore to our apartment four months ago.
My body reacts to the whole thing.
Just being within her orbit, but the boots, her standing next to iced cookies, and another man looking at her.
I'm not the kind of guy who won't let any other man even glance in my girl’s direction.
No, this is all about how this man is looking at her.
Coach Phillips is looking at her like she's the iced dessert that he would very much like to drag his tongue all over.
I shove past two of my teammates without even looking.
"Hey," one of them says.
"What’s your problem, Ryan?" the other grumbles.
But I don't even slow down.
And I’m still too late. Because I arrive next to Luna just as I hear her say, "I can do that. I guess I’ll see you at eight."
I look from her to Coach and then back to her.
Her eyes go wide and her mouth drops open.
"Ryan," Coach says, extending his hand. "Great game."
