The walk over to The Secret History is long enough for me to clear some of the bats out of my belfry. The Secret History is the bottom floor of the SinclairBuilding, better known as the Sin Bin, used as housing for newcomers to the team. And it’s breathtaking. It's fashioned after an upscale library, with teak floors, brass finishes, and books stacked in every conceivable nook.
Olivier, one of the bar's owners, looks up from polishing a glass behind the slick teak counter when I walk in. He grins when he sees me, and points to where Indie is already sitting at the bar.
I slide into a seat. "Hey y'all. What's shakin’?"
"Ask Indie." Olivier pulls out a champagne flute. "You having a French 75?"
"Like I would come here and not have one." I wiggle my eyebrows and look at Indie. "What's up with you?"
She laughs. "I may or may not have been regaling Olivier with stories about Theo."
"Wait, like... Theo Kozlov? The center?”
"Mmm, maybe." Her eyes glow with mischief. "Why, is that bad?"
"No. I didn't realize you were into him, that's all. You know that dating anybody on the team is..." I pause, trying to find a less harsh word than first comes to mind. "Complicated."
"You are such a goody-two-shoes. You’re allowed to say that most of the guys are sluts."
Olivier snorts. "No shit. We have the private room set up for them back there, but several of them come out here looking for pretty girls." He jerks his thumb toward the end of the bar, where the Seattle Havoc's main goalie, Jett Huxley, is talking to two drop-dead-gorgeous girls. They howl with laughter and one of them curls her arm around one of Jett's.
"Ugh," I say, by way of comment. "If I were being honest, it's not even the girls here that you have to worry about. It's the ones in Miami, Boston, L.A., Dallas?—"
"Okay, I get it." Indie shrugs. "I'm just saying that Theo seems really sweet."
"He is a nice guy. I'll give you that."
Olivier slides me my drink and heads off to help another customer. It's only Tuesday, but the bar is starting to get busy. I sip the tart, sweet champagne cocktail and look over at Indie, who is studying me.
"Do you have a crush on Theo?" she asks. “I like him, but I don’t want to intrude.”
"Me?" I grin and shake my head. "Nah. I like someone a little... more experienced."
"What does that mean? I thought you were still doing a no hockey players ever thing."
I cut her off with a look. "I am."
"Then what gives?"
I tilt my head. "Promise you won't tell?"
"Uh, yes." Her eyes widen. "Do you have a thing for that silver fox that keeps checking us out every time we're at the coffee shop near the arena?"
"Ew! No!" My face contorts. "I've been thinking of asking someone I know to help me rid myself of my v-card, okay?"
"Who?" Indie whispers.
I check behind me to make sure He Who Will Not Be Named didn’t somehow appear. Then I hiss, "Thorne."
She snarfs a little champagne and coughs on it. "Alex Thorne? As in your brother's teammate? And the guy you claim to hate?"
"Keep your voice down. You'd make the worst spy."
She bites her lip and snickers. "I really would. I can't keep a secret to save my life."
"Indie!!"
"Okay, shh." She giggles. "You're serious about Thorne? He is very commanding and sexy. Those tats on his arms are pretty yummy. And the way he wears a pair of gray sweatpants does something for me."
