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“You bet,” I smile.
The boys usher him away, and I promise that Sophie and I will meet them at the bar once we’ve helped the freshman girls finish up here.
An hour later, Sophie and I push our way through the door to Micky’s to find the place absolutely pumping. There are bodies everywhere, and it’s no secret why they’re here when they begin chanting the Dragons’ war cry. We push our way through the crowd, which is made a lot easier when Jaxon calls out for the crowd to part for Dragon royalty. Hell, Miller and I are now known as the Dragons’ King and Queen.
I find Miller among the bodies and sit down on his lap, feeling right at home. The night erupts around us as the boys continue drinking and celebrating. Miller only has a few and, after the many disastrous nights I’ve had in this particular bar, I decide only a few sounds like a pretty good idea.
I spend my night splitting my time between dancing with Sophie, laughing with the boys, and making out with Miller as his hands slip into my underwear beneath the table.
A few hours later, Coach Harris pushes his way through the door with a man dressed in a very expensive suit, looking as important as ever. “Fuck,” Miller says in shock as he eyes the man, recognizing him instantly. Tank looks up at Miller’s tone and immediately imitates his shocked gaze.
Coach Harris leads the man over to our table and Miller and Tank stand, causing the rest of the boys to follow suit. “Well, if it isn’t the Dream Team,” the man grins, reaching out to shake hands with Miller and then Tank.
“Who’s that?” I ask Jaxon, leaning over to whisper.
“Looks like a scout or maybe an executive from one of the NHL teams, but I have no idea where he’s from. This is huge though. They never come out to meet the players like this,” he says in awe, watching the scene unfold before him as if looking into his own future.
The boys talk with Coach Harris and the man for a while when I realize that Sophie is absolutely smashed. I let Jaxon and Bobby know that I’m taking her home so I don’t interrupt the boys during their meeting of a lifetime.
I buy a bottle of water and practically force it down Sophie’s throat as she gives me the latest update on her and Tank’s sexcapades, which as usual, involves far too many details. We stop by the local burger place and grab some fries to munch on for the rest of the walk home.
Somehow, a fifteen-minute walk turns into a forty-five-minute stroll, and when we finally make it home, I tuck Sophie into bed after she begs me to help her pee.
My phone rings and I fish it out of my pocket to find Miller’s name on the screen. “Why hello, superstar,” I say with a wide grin as I answer the phone.
“Hey babe, just checking you got home okay?” he asks.
“Barely,” I laugh. “It took us a while, but we got here eventually.”
I hear the muffled noise of the bar in the background and realize he must be standing out front “So, was that a scout?” I ask, hoping it was all good news.
“Not quite,” he says with pride loud and clear in his voice. “He owns the Chicago Raiders, one of the best teams in the league. They seem pretty interested in signing both me and Tank, but he won’t make any promises until the end of the season. Apparently, there are a few other teams looking at us.”
“Holy shit,” I gasp. “That’s amazing.”
“Can I come to your place to celebrate?” he asks seductively.
“Of course you can,” I laugh. “Stay and celebrate with the team though. I’ll wait up for you.”
His response is cut off when there’s a knock at the door. “Are you at my door already?” I laugh excitedly as I make my way through the kitchen and living room.
“I wish,” he groans, sending shivers all over my body.
“Hold on a minute,” I say as I answer the door with the phone still pressed against my ear.
I pull the door open to find a very drunken Brett standing before me. “Fuck,” I gasp as he smirks down at me, looking my body up and down with hunger in his eyes.
“What is it?” Miller asks in alarm.
I ignore his question as I stare my past in the face. “You need to leave,” I demand with a snarl as my heart begins to beat rapidly in my chest.
“I’m not going anywhere, baby,” Brett slurs. “I told you. I want what’s mine.”
I gasp and step back from the doorway, dropping the phone as I attempt to slam the door. He jams his foot in the frame and forces it back open between us. “Come on, Dani,” he says, stepping up to me and pressing me into the wall. The stench of rum wafting off him makes me sick. “Don’t be such a fucking prude. I know you want it, you dirty little slut.”
