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“What? And your pissy bread juice is better? I don’t think so, and you know wine has more alcohol and fewer calories than beer, right?”
“Touché,” Jones relented, taking a sip of his bread juice.
I looked at Kingston. He had a barely touched plate of fries in front ofhim.Hmmm…
The kid returned with my wine and headed off before I could pay him. Someone must have opened a tab. I let him go, not allowing myself to order a plate of fries like Kingston. I couldn’t afford the calories. I snuck another look at Kingston’s plate. Well, maybe a couple wouldn’t hurt, right? I took a contemplative sip of wine.
“It was a good game today, Warren,” Jones said, bringing my attention away from the plate of calories afoot away.
I perked up at the mention of hockey. “I know, right? Did you see that shot Mason made in the third? I’m surprised Barrett’s ankles weren’t broken.”
“Yeah, that was sick,” Jones cheered. For Ethan Jones’ big size and intimidating play style, he was a giant teddy bear and a supportive captain. He had trouble with his volume control and ended up shouting more than talking when he got excited, his face lighting up like a freaking Christmas tree. He reached over the table to give Mason some knuckles. It looked like Mason had forgiven Jones.
Kingston was watching this all with a fond smile on his face, and while he was distracted, I slid my hand across the table and snagged one of his fries. I stuffed it in my mouth, chewed, and swallowed as fast as I could. No one noticed a thing.
“How about you, Riles?” Mason asked. “How was playing with McCarthy for the first time?”
“It was awesome. I’ve wanted to play with her since she got drafted,” I said lamely, not able to put the experience into words that would do it justice.
Jones put his elbows on the table and leaned forward, his dark brown eyes staring intently into mine. His serious face only lasted for a second before it cracked and a suggestive smile broke through. I knew what he was going to ask before he even opened his mouth. “You wanted toplaywithher, huh?”
Mason snorted, and Kingston’s head whipped to me.
I just rolled my eyes and sipped my wine, a smile tugging at my lips. My old teammates from Seattle had made the same suggestion every time we played against Vancouver as well. Boys were idiots.
“What, you don’t think she’s hot?” Jones asked in response to myeye roll.
“I think she’s gorgeous. You know who also thinks she’s gorgeous?” I paused for dramatic effect. “Her girlfriend. Who is an MMAfighter.”
The boys grimaced simultaneously, andI laughed.
As the night dragged on, the boys slowly drank their single allotted beers, but I ordered another glass of wine. Unlike them, I wasn’t playing tomorrow. Still, I didn’t want to get trashed. That wouldn’t be agood look.
I had just pilfered another fry, threw it into my mouth, and was chewing fast when I made eye contact with Kingston.Uh-oh. I swallowed and tried to look innocent. He narrowed his eyes at me then looked at the plate he hadn’t touched in thirty minutes. There was a little dent on the side of the fry pile closest to me.
Kingston rolled his eyes but pushed the plate closer to me with a little smile. I beamed at him and grabbed two more, my diet temporarily out the window. Come to me, saltygoodness.
I made a few more dents as conversation flowed smoothly betweeneveryone.
We must have been talking for a couple hours or so when an alarm suddenly went off on Mason’s phone, interrupting Jones’ story about his rookie year. Mason grabbed his cell off the table, jolting out of his chair as if it had electrocuted him. His chair squeaked across the tile floor, and we all looked at him inquestion.
His fingers turned white around his phone, and he shifted on his feet. “I—I have to go,” he stuttered, shufflingbackward.
Wait a minute; I recognized that stupid look on his face. I cocked my head, and when he met my gaze, I saw his eyes filled with shy excitement. It looked like someone had a phone datescheduled.
“Well, go and get out of here then,” I said, waving him out. He smiled down at me gratefully, kissed the top of my head, then practically ran to the hotel elevators without another word.
“Well, okay then,” Jones said. “I guess I’ll head back to my room also. Although, I’ll do it less weirdly.” He finished off the rest of his beer, which must have been disgustingly warm by now. “Y’all coming up too?”
“In a second,” I said. “I have to finish off Kingston’s fries first.”
Kingston chuckled. “I’ll be up there in a few. Gotta settlethe tab.”
Suddenly, Jones leaned toward Kingston and dropped his voice. “If you’re a couple hours past curfew, I won’t tell.” He must have seen my confused look because Jones’ eyes shifted pointedly. I followed his glance and found a gorgeous redhead sitting at the bar top, a beer bottle inher hand.
I met her gaze and was shocked. Beautiful green eyes sat in an equally stunning face. Her face was slim and defined, with perfect, makeup-less glass skin. She was breath-taking. She was exactly my type, almost the spitting image of one of my ex-girlfriends, but I clearly wasn’t her type. No, she only had eyes for SebastianKingston.
Mood ruined, I turned back to the table, putting the redhead behind me, and stuffed a handful of fries in my mouth, fighting off the inappropriate feeling rising in me.Nope, nope, nope. While I was focused on the cold, limp fries and my erratic emotions, Kingston must have said something because Jones nodded his head at Kingston and left with a lot less ruckus than Mason.
