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“I can’t argue with you there.”
Billie moved past him and she wondered if he was checking out her butt. Seemed like a fair assumption considering she’d be doing exactly [i]that[i] if he was in front of her. The thought brought heat to her cheeks and she thanked the Lord that she’d dragged on her worn and faded, Levi’s. They may not be trendy like Bobbi’s skinny jeans, but they made her ass look damn good.
They paused at the top of the stairs, in the lobby of the twin pads. The second hour of men’s league was running, as well as a rep team practice on the other side. There was a line-up at the concession stand, the smell of popcorn and hotdogs filled the air.
The smell alone was enough to put Billie in her happy place and it didn’t matter the nasty odor of hockey gear wafted in the air as well. She was a rink rat through and through and always felt more at home here than anywhere else.
“You heading to The Grill?” Logan asked.
“No,” she answered abruptly, shaking her head. “I don’t think the guys are ready for our relationship to progress that fast. We’re not even in the honeymoon stage yet and besides, I can’t get the image of Dearling’s hairy ass out of my head.”
He stared down at her and though she wanted to drag her eyes away, Billie couldn’t. The man had superpowers or something…a weird tracking device that claimed every pair of female eyes in the lobby and wouldn’t let go. She knew this because at the moment, there were at least ten pairs of them aimed his way.
“Okay,” he smiled and Billie wasn’t prepared for the hundred watt mega wash of deliciousness. Her cheeks heated like she was no more than twelve, and her heart sped up so much that she was out of breath. Superpowers didn’t come close to describing the kind of mojo Logan Forest possessed. It had only gotten stronger with time. “They’ll come around, Billie.”
“Thanks,” she murmured and stepped out of the way as he strode past.
“I’ll see you next Friday.”
“Sure will.” Billie’s eyes fell to that delicious butt and then he was gone.
She hiked her bag up and followed him outside, though her car was parked on the far side. She cut to the left as Logan’s truck pulled away and she watched his taillights disappear into the dark. For one second she thought that maybe, just maybe, she’d head to The Grill for one drink.
It couldn’t hurt…could it?
As Billie approached her car, the soft buzz she’d been feeling vanished. It was replaced with a cold shot of anger and if she was honest, a whole lot of hurt.
All four doors of her old Honda had been keyed, as well as the trunk where the word ‘HO’ was scratched in but good. The hood was lucky enough to garner the word ‘PUSSY’. She dropped her bag and sticks and walked around the vehicle, feeling her heart squeeze when she noticed all four tires slashed as well.
A strangled cry escaped her throat, and she couldn’t lie, those were the hot, bitter sting of tears poking at the corner of her eyes. Who the hell would do something as asinine and juvenile as this? Who could be so mean spirited and nasty?
She thought of Dearling and Danvers, of Seth Longwood and who knows how many other men who resented the hell out of her. It could have been any of them. She winced at the thought because according to Bobbi, it could have been half the town.
Suddenly tired and defeated, Billie whipped out her cell and called home. And promptly got the answering machine. [i]Criminal Minds[i] marathon. Right.
“Shit.”
“You need some help?”
Her head shot up and she spied Shane Gallagher standing a few feet away, next to a pretty serious looking motorcycle.
“Hey,” she answered a little warily, turning to the side as she wiped the corners of her eyes. “Someone decided to use my car to sharpen their keys.”
He walked toward her. “I see that.” Shane bent down and surveyed the damage. He glanced up and frowned. “Guess they thought you didn’t need your tires either.”
“Yeah, looks like.” What else was there to say?
He stood back and swore beneath his breath as he walked around her car and surveyed the damage. “Well, the good news is that your car is a hunk of junk and not really worth much.”
Irritated, Billie frowned. “Gee, thanks for that.”
Shane shrugged. “It’s the truth.” He flashed a smile and Billie had to admit, the man had more than his fair share of charisma. “It won’t take much to grind the scratches out and get a cheap paint job.” He looked down at the car again. “As for the tires, get a set of used winter’s and you’ll be fine. I wouldn’t bother putting it through your insurance because chances are your deductible will be close to what you’d pay to fix it anyway.”
“Good to know.” Billie was beyond irritated now. Her deductible was high. She’d agreed to a higher deductible in lieu of cheaper rates. Figures. Guess she’d be dipping into her emergency funds sooner than she thought.
“I’d call Ed to come and tow it for you but he’s at The Grill.”
Wonderful. Ed Cronkwright. The goalie on the team they’d just pulverized.
