His cheeks turn bright red, but he doesn't bother to deny it. He turns to the bed and grabs a pile of clothes there, then heads into the bathroom. It’s a good thing he plans on getting dressed away from prying eyes — otherwise, I’m not sure we’d make it to dinner.
When he emerges ten minutes later, it still looks unlikely. He’s wearing one of the sweaters we bought in Chicago with a pair of dark jeans that cup his ass just right.
“Aw, Cap. That’s not fair.” I say, giving him an appreciative once-over.
“Sure. After the one-manMagic Mikeroutine earlier, I’d argue turnabout is fair play.” He says with a wink.
I chuckle, grabbing my wallet and the room key off the dresser.
True to his word,Coach has picked out an amazing Thai spot for dinner. We all pile onto a bus, filing into the same seats we usually pick. The place isn’t far from the hotel, but it’s Calgary inmid-December; losing a player to hypothermia would be a bad look.
Dinner is delicious, with rich broths, noodles, and a balance of meats and veggies – the sort of food you forget is healthy. The atmosphere is light, with Coach really diving into conversations with us for the first time since he joined the team this fall.
I sometimes forget that for all I was struggling to acclimate during camp, he must have been, too – I can't imagine having to deal with the situation between Ethan and I on, like, day two of his new job.
With a game the next night, most of us lay off the booze, and before long it's time to head back to the hotel. As the guys start standing and putting on their coats, butterflies start to flutter in my stomach. Ethan seemed flirty at the hotel earlier, but I'm having a hard time figuring out what he thinks will happen tonight. Did he volunteer to share so we could hook up? Or was it out of the kindness of his heart?
We file back onto the bus and the nerves crank up a level. Why am I worried about this? We've hooked up before, but it's not like we have athing. It's just...happened.
As we start moving, Alexei stands and approaches the front of the bus.
“Everyone! As many of you know, I throw a party every year for those who will stay here for Christmas. I need to get a head count for the caterer. When I call your name, please respond with your Christmas plans. If you are in Minneapolis, youwillcome.”
With that, Alexei pulled a list of names and a pen from his pocket, looking a lot like Santa himself. You know, if Santa were six and a half feet tall and Russian.
“Lindy!”
“Astrid and I are sticking around – we will be there!”
“Mac!”
“Going back to South Carolina with Hailey!”
From the back of the bus, Gagnon pipes up “You finallygonna propose?”
The boys hoot and holler at this, and Mac turns bright red. Who knows, maybe there's some truth to it.
“Gags?”
“I'll be spending 65 hours in Montreal.”
“No need to ask Ethan. Matty?”
“I'll be there.”
“Carter? You heading back to California?”
“Nope, I'll be there too.”
As he proceeds through the list of players, it seems like about half of us will be around over the three day break. I turn to Ethan, lowering my voice.
“Why doesn't he need to ask you? Are you not invited?”
He snorts at this.
“You kidding? I've been to every one of these things. What else am I going to do?”
That catches me off guard, to think that he doesn't have another option.
