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“What’s with you, Tucker?” Harris asks when we’re alone again. “You usually keep that aggression on the ice.”
I grunt as I grab my towel.
“So, that’s your new girlfriend?” he asks.
I glare at him too, but then I realize he might be able to help. Harris is a few years older than me. Maybe he knows more about love than I do.
“Yeah,” I say with a huff. “That was my girl. She doesn’t know it yet though.”
Harris laughs as he shakes his head. “Then you better tell her. I think she’d like to know.”
“Are you married?” I ask him. “Do you have the love of your life?”
He takes a deep breath as he pulls off a sock and tosses it into his locker. “No. I had her once. But… Fuck, I’m not the guy to ask about love advice. I’ve been caught up on the same girl for ages.”
“Why don’t you get her back?”
His face tightens as he stares at his locker for a long moment.
“It’s not that easy, okay? You want some advice from a pathetic, lonely old man? Just tell this girl how you feel. You need honesty in a relationship.”
Honesty. I was honest with her today and she seemed to like it. Maybe he’s onto something.
“And the next time you go at it with the rookie,” Harris says, leaning in. “Give him a shot from me. That fucker is starting to piss me off.”
Chapter Seven
Jane
Ifeel like a movie star as we walk past the long line outside the trendy restaurant bar and head inside without waiting. Sebastian shakes the hand of the bouncer and slips him a tip.
“Enjoy your night,” he says as I walk in with Tucker.
I can tell that Tucker doesn’t normally come to places like this, so it makes me feel extra special that he made the effort for me.
Alina and I met the boys outside the locker room and Sebastian suggested the four of us go out. Apparently, a lot of hockey players hang out here after the games. It’s not just the Hyenas, but the away teams too, so there’s a big mix of players and fans.
The music is loud and lively as we walk through the restaurant. I slow down and slide my hand into Tucker’s, smiling up at him.
This is not his scene. It’s written all over his face.
“Thanks for coming with me,” I say as I squeeze his large hand. His tight shoulders seem to relax a little.
Sebastian gets us the best table in the house—a table in the raised corner that overlooks all the action. The bar is packed with good-looking bartenders putting on a show, flipping up stainless steel mixers and pouring them into the martini glasses lined up on the concrete bar.
People are dancing on the other side of the place and in between are tables of well-dressed people having lively conversations and waiters and waitresses winding through them, holding plates and drinks. I like it here. The energy gives me a little buzz. I don’t normally come to places like this either. There aren’t any places like this in Shakings, Colorado. Not by a long shot.
“You look so nice,” I say to Tucker when we sit down. I run my hand over his sports coat and smile at him. He has a blue collared shirt, dark jeans, and nice brown shoes on. I guess I was expecting him to wear flannel and jeans like Alina said, but I guess he has some surprises up his sleeve.
“You look stunning as usual,” he says as he looks me over. I can feel a tingle making its way through my body with his dark brown eyes on me.
His face looks much better now. There’s still a lot of color from the bruising, but the swelling has gone down and his cuts look like they’re starting to heal. He’s a sturdy one to recover so fast. I guess his body is used to it with all of the fighting he’s had to endure over the years.
Sebastian orders a bottle of champagne from the pretty waitress and it comes in no time flat. I’ve never heard of it before, but it looks wildly expensive.
“Here’s to our win,” Sebastian says as we all hold our glasses up in the middle of the table. “And here’s to Tucker coming out clutch at the end and scoring our winning goal!”
Aww. He’s blushing.
