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I’m currently twenty-seven. I have two brothers. I’m in love with a hockey player. I’m damn good at poker.
But what else? I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.
As I watch Ro dance her heart out to the music, I try to figure out what makes me feel the way dancing makes her feel. I’ve never felt that way about poker. I’ll always love poker, and I’ll always play. It’s my connection to my dad, but I also want to find my passion.
Hockey is part of who Maverick is. I love that he has that, but it makes me even more determined to find something of my own.
“That was great,” Maverick says to me when the concert ends. “Do we need to wait before we go backstage?”
“No, let’s go see her now.”
We both have lanyards with backstage passes, which Ro hooked us up with. Maverick keeps hold of my hand as we make our way there.
“Hey, Maverick Hagen!” one of the security guards says as we pass.
Maverick turns and grins, saying, “Hey, man.”
“That game the other night was epic! You guys about gave me a heart attack, cutting it so close! But a win’s a win, right?”
“Yeah, but that one was too close.”
“Is our goalie okay? Why was someone else goaltending that night?”
“Pike had a muscle strain so they made him sit out and rest,” Maverick says. “But he’ll be back the next game.”
The security guard wrinkles his face in disgust. “A muscle strain? Is this baseball or hockey?”
Maverick laughs and shrugs. “I’m with you, man. But the doctors get the final word.”
“Can I get a pic with you real quick?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll take it for you,” I offer, holding my hand out for the security guard’s phone.
Maverick puts an arm around him and they both smile, the security guard giving a thumbs-up. Maverick’s hair is slowly growing back, but he extended the same offer to his team as before—any time they win five in a row, he’ll shave his head, and if they win eight in a row, he’ll have his balls waxed.
Lord help me. His hair may never grow in enough for the loose waves I loved so much to return. I like it short, too, though. The clean-cut look has always been a weakness.
“Gia!” Ro sees us as soon as we arrive backstage, and she runs up and throws her arms around me in a hug. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“You were amazing! I loved watching you dance. Did you have any trouble with your foot?”
“No, it feels just like before. I’m so relieved.” She turns to Maverick and hugs him too. “Hey, thanks for coming. Are you taking care of our girl?”
“Always.”
“Hey, coming through,” someone calls as several men walk past us carrying a huge piece of equipment.
“Come on. We can hang out in the dressing room,” Ro says. “We’re meeting up with Jason there and then we can go out.”
I met Jason last Sunday when I went to Ro’s parents’ house for dinner. He’s a really nice guy, lean, fit and cute as hell. He’s half Korean and half Puerto Rican, with a great smile and an upbeat personality.
“Hey,” he says to Ro when we walk into the crowded dressing room. “Great show.”
He kisses her, shakes Maverick’s hand and hugs me. The mood in the room is loud and celebratory, and we’re making plans to go out when the voices quiet. I turn, along with everyone else, to see Raya Moore, one of the world’s biggest pop stars, greeting people. It was her show they were all performing in tonight.
“I hear we have a pro hockey player in the house tonight,” she says, making her way over to us. “Jason, is he a friend of yours?”
“His girlfriend is my best friend,” Ro says. “Raya, this is Gia Ford and Maverick Hagen.”
“Hey guys, great to meet you,” she says, shaking our hands.
She’s beautiful, even with all the stage makeup, and also very petite, maybe five foot two and a hundred pounds. Her presence on stage is commanding, though, and her voice is spectacular.
“Great show,” I tell her.
“Thank you.”
“Let me know if you ever want to come to a game,” Maverick says.
“That would be cool. Are there any guys on the team as hot as you who are single?”
He laughs. “Lots of single guys on our team, yeah. I’m sure you could take your pick.”
“Yeah, I would’ve picked you if you weren’t already taken.”
Bitch. She’s hitting on him right in front of me. Maverick puts his arm around me.
“I’m very happily taken,” he says.
“Okay, cool. Well, catch you guys later,” she says, gliding off with her entourage.
Ro just shakes her head and says, “She’s like that.”
Maverick kisses my temple. “I’m ready to get out of here. How about you guys?”
An hour later, we’re sitting at a table at a bar near the Strip, toasting Ro’s successful return to the show.
