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I shake my head. “If you have a chance, take a nap after work.”
“Oh, good God, so full of yourself and your stamina.”
“Gorgeous.” I chuckle. “I have the game tonight, and we have dinner reservations at ten thirty, and then we are going out.”
“Going out?” She repeats my words. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” I tell her. “Do you want to come to the game?”
“Absolutely not,” she snaps.
“Okay, I won’t push it this time,” I concede, already knowing what I have planned for her tonight might make or break us. “But next time.”
“Next time.” She shakes her head. “Like there’s going to be a next time.”
“Gorgeous, there will be so many next times. There will be a time when you aren’t even going to remember what it’s like not to have me there.”
“I remember now, and it was blissful.” She smirks at me. “And fulfilling.”
“We shall see.” I get up from the bed, tossing the covers off me. “I’ll be at your place to pick you up. Dress comfy.”
“Stone,” she warns, “if you give me one more order.” Her jaw gets tight.
“Have an amazing day. I’ll call you after practice.”
“Or not,” she retorts, hanging up on me, leaving me with my phone in my hand.
I get dressed in my tracksuit and grab a coffee in the lobby before heading to the bus to go to the rink. Practice is smooth, and right after that, I hit up the gym to do my cardio while my phone beeps, telling me everything is set for tonight. I am so hyped up for the date I don’t even nap properly. I’m even the first one on the bus, waiting to get the game over. Instead of calling her, I send her a text.
Me: Can’t wait to see you tonight.
She responds right away, and I can’t help but smile.
Gorgeous: I can.
I put the phone away once I get to the arena and get into the zone. The game is hard-hitting, both teams vying for points to make it into the playoffs. Both teams doing what needs to be done to end up on top. After three periods, we’re tied at one and going into overtime. “I’ll give five hundred dollars”—I look at the bench—“to whoever scores in the next two minutes.”
“I’ll double it,” Jay says, panting next to me as the coach calls my name to get on the ice with James and Freddy, our defensemen.
“I can’t wait to get the fuck out of this cold,” James whines as I skate over to the middle of the ice.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Freddy says, “I want that five hundred dollars.”
“It’s yours, big boy.” I nod at him as I take my position in the middle of the ice. The crowd is on their feet as the announcer screams overtime. It’s almost deafening as I skate in a circle before squatting down, ready to win the face-off.
The referee drops the puck in the middle, and we smack sticks before I toss the puck to the back where Freddy is. Jay and I skate our way with him to the blue line. He passes the puck to Jay, who quickly makes the pass to me, and I lift my stick, but instead of shooting it at the net, I pass it quickly back to Freddy. He slap shoots it at the goalie, who isn’t ready for it since his eyes are on me. It flies to the back of the net as the red light goes off.
“Someone owes me five hundred bucks,” Freddy gloats when I skate over to him and hit my helmet with his.
“With pleasure,” I say as the rest of the team joins us before we skate off the ice on the other side.
“Bus leaves in one hour!” someone shouts as we walk into the room. I quickly undress and make it to the shower, slipping on my jeans and sweater before I slide my jacket on. I pack my suit in my backpack before walking out to the garage, where a car waits for me.
I take my phone out of my pocket and call her. “You were serious,” she answers me instead of saying hello.
“I’m always serious when it comes to you.” I laugh. “I’ll be at your place in about fifteen minutes.”
“We’re really going out to dinner?” she asks, and I hear her running around on her end.
