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“You take it.”
“Come on, we’re celebrating. Drink it!”
“We won one game, douchebag. I don’t want to be hungover tomorrow; there’s still a lot of work to do.”
“Whatever, grandpa.” He clinked his shot glass against the one our teammate Kerry was holding, and tipped it back, making a face afterward. “Ah, Fireball. Hurts so good.”
I took my phone from my pocket and checked it again. Nothing.
After last night, I knew where her apartment was. Should I drive there and ask her if we could talk? I didn’t think I could just stand here and smile like everything was fine.
“What crawled up your ass and died?” Drew asked me, walking over with a glass of ice water in hand.
“Have you heard if Alvarado is coming?”
He pinched his brows together in confusion. “No, but he usually never goes out after games. Why?”
“That cocksucker fucked me over tonight. When I see him, I’m gonna pull his nut sac out through his throat.”
“Sounds entertaining. What’d he do?”
“Remember what I told you about Sariah? How I met her and all?”
“Yeah.”
“I have no idea how he knew about it, but he told Sariah. The only people who know are you, me, and Lars.”
“Shit.” Drew rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. “Do you think he was in the locker room that day you told me?”
I thought back to that day. Alvarado and I had just finished our bag skate punishment, so he easily could have still been in the locker room right after that. How could I have been so fucking stupid?
“That’s possible,” I admitted.
“Still an absolute dick move.”
I ran my hand through my hair, exhaling hard. “I was planning to tell her. Not anytime soon, but honestly, I was. The lie just got out of hand as I got to know her better and liked her more and more.”
“I heard you guys did the mattress mambo last night.”
“Who said that?”
He shrugged. “Locker room talk.”
“That locker room is like a fucking sorority house.”
“Minus the hot chicks, you are correct, sir.”
Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I weighed my options. It was going on midnight, but there was no way I’d be able to sleep anytime soon.
I’d deal with Alvarado later. What mattered now was getting through to Sariah. After checking my phone again and finding no texts, I shoved it in my pocket and pulled out my wallet.
“Pay our table’s waitress for me, will you?” I said, pulling out two twenties.
Drew put up a hand. “I’ve got you. Put that money away. Where are you going?”
“To her place.”
He widened his eyes. “Bro, I’m not sure that’s a wise move.”
“I’m not staying here and drinking beer with you asswipes and making her think I don’t even care.”
“Yeah, but…she just found out. Give her time to cool down.”
“Does Nina need time to cool down when she’s pissed?”
Drew laughed. “Yeah, dude. I’ve learned when to shut the fuck up.”
“What woman doesn’t want to hear that you know you fucked up and you’re sorry?”
“Angry women aren’t reasonable. They’re like venomous snakes with their hoods up and their tongues sticking out at you. Fucking run, and chat up that snake later, when it’s had a good meal and is coiled up and chilling.”
“Think I should bring her some food?”
He shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt. Might want to wear your hockey gear, too, in case she throws dishes at your head.”
“Sariah’s not like that.”
My teammate arched his brows skeptically. “For your sake, I hope not. I’m just saying, better safe than nailed in the nuts with a serving fork.”
“Nash?”
My back hit the floor as Sariah opened the door to her apartment the next morning, sunlight making me shield my eyes as I looked up at her.
“Sariah.” I wiped a hand over my mouth to clear away the drool I felt there and jumped to my feet.
I remembered driving here last night and sending another dozen or so texts telling her I was at her door. Since she had neighbors and it was the middle of the night, I hadn’t wanted to bang on her door and wake anyone up. Apparently I’d fallen asleep sitting on the ground outside her door.
And damn, was I feeling it. My left hip ached, I was thirsty as hell, and my suit looked like I’d…well, slept in it. Which I had.
“Were you sleeping outside my door?” she asked.
I ran a hand through my hair and found a leaf, which I plucked out and dropped to the ground. If Sariah would just let me in, we could have a cup of coffee and talk things out.
“Can I come in?”
She scoffed. “No. I’m leaving for work.”
I looked down at my wristwatch. It was seven thirty a.m.
“We need to talk,” I said. “Please.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. You’re a liar and a scam artist. Which is just weird, by the way. I have nothing to be scammed out of, and you’re a millionaire.”
