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“Well, it’s working,” Trina commented, as Luc reached the net first and wrestled with the Boston defensemen, clearing the way for Tyler.
Tyler shot at the net. Scored. Luc raised his hands in the air in celebration.
“Did Luc get a stick on that?” Trina asked.
The crowd went crazy, but the announcers spoke over the craziness. “Hang on folks, I think Marcella got a stick on that shot.”
“I think you’re right,” Ali said, as they watched the replay. “There it is. Yep, that is Luc’s goal. Keep it up, boys!”
“Woot! You get at it, Rock-Star!” Trina cheered.
The Renegades were leading 2–0, when Kassie excused herself from the party during the second intermission to go to the gym.
She had hockey boy on the brain, and that needed to stop. Their almost kiss last night still lingered on her mind. It wasn’t even an almost kiss. She pulled back before he even got close. And it didn’t matter that she felt a twinge of regret. It could never happen again.
Kassie looked around the crowded bar as they walked through the front door. The place was packed full of a mix of college kids and adults. The music was loud, and all the televisions had sports playing. The Renegades were off tonight, so her normal side-kick, Ali, was at home with Kaden and Kaleb, enjoying their little family.
They had a nice girl’s night last evening, but when the guys weren’t playing, the wives liked family time. She understood that. Why go out to a club when you have a nice little family?
Luckily, her friend Quinn had recently returned from a three-month trip to Italy. She had family there and had gone to “find herself” after graduating. Unlike Kassie, who had jumped right into a job. Kassie looked around the crowded bar for her friend. They were to meet at Mario’s at eight o’clock sharp.
“Kass!” Quinn’s voice shrieked from somewhere on her right.
Before Kassie even saw her, Quinn had jumped at her, arms and legs wrapping around her.
“Girlfriend! I missed you!” Quinn squealed.
“I missed you too, Quinn.” Kassie hugged her friend. Three months was a really long time.
“So, I know we skyped while I was gone, but what else have you been up to?” Quinn yelled over the loud music.
“Not much, really. Hanging with my brother and his wife, babysitting their son. Working. That’s really about it.”
“Well, that sounds boring.” Quinn pulled herself off Kassie. Her face dropped in disappointment. “I was hoping you’d have some hot boyfriend that had an even hotter brother you could introduce me to. He’d obviously fall head over heels in love with me, and we’d live happily ever after in—”
“In a cottage in the woods with your three kids. How long have I been listening to this fairy tale?” Kassie said with a laugh.
Quinn had a flare for the dramatic. Everything about her was drama. From her jet-black hair and dark makeup, to her mash-up of sexy-punk-meets-emo fashion and her super outgoing personality. All drama.
Quinn paused, tapping her finger against her chin as if she was thinking. “Actually, I’ve since changed it. It’s a villa in Tuscany, overlooking the countryside. I’m still thinking three kids, but I’m not big on birth control, so that’s open for discussion. Could be more.” Quinn wiggled her eyebrows.
All Kassie could do was laugh at her friend. “Man, Quinn, did I miss you!” She looped her arm around Quinn’s shoulders and they walked towards the bar.
“Time for dancing and drinking. Or are you driving?” Quinn turned responsible for a second.
“Nope, I’m good to drink. I took an Uber down here. I’ll grab an Uber home, too. Call me Miss Responsible! You?”
“Uber all the way, baby!” Quinn switched on the party-girl mode again. She pounded her fist on the bar. “Barkeep! Can we get two Sex Appeals over here, please?”
“You know I shouldn’t start with one of those,” Kassie said.
“Nonsense, Kass. You’ll be fine. You can drink your little martinis later tonight when you’re trying to lay off the alcohol. We could start with Sex on the Beach instead?”
Last time Kassie had a Sex on the Beach, she had no memory of the rest of the evening. There would be none of that tonight. “Sex Appeal it is.”
The bartender rolled her eyes at Quinn’s attempt at humor when she thanked her with payment for the drinks. “Thank you, barkeep. And keep the change.”
“Barkeep? No one says barkeep anymore. Weirdo.”
