Page 10 of Hooking Up with the Hockey Player

Reaching over, I pick up the business card on my end table. The card Troy gave me last night with his personal cell phone number. I googled him last night—as well as the info printed on the card—needing to confirm that I wasn’t hallucinating and he wasn’t totally full of shit and leading on a gullible girl. Not that I really thought so, but I guess I’ve read too many ridiculous stories on the internet of people getting taken in by convincing con men. I don’t want to be another hapless victim. After what happened with Jared, I couldn’t handle something like that.

But of course, he wasn’t lying. He’s a retired hockey player. I watched the press conference where he announced his upcoming retirement, the interview he gave after his last game, a few clips of the sportscasters discussing his career and retirement, and a few clips of him playing.

I still haven’t decided what to do about him, though. Something about reaching out to him feels risky.

Who am I kidding? It feels terrifying.

But also exhilarating.

The way he smiled at me, the safety I felt with the broad expanse of his torso guarding me … I want to feel that again. I’m just afraid it was a fluke, though. A one-time thing born of the night, the alcohol, the atmosphere, and the way he swooped in to successfully keep the Frat Boy Brigade from continuing to harass me.

If I’m going to embark on an effort to change myself, though, to become less boring, this is the perfect opportunity, isn’t it? How much less boring could I be than pursuing a fling with a professional athlete while he’s here on vacation?

Feeling rash and brave, I pick up my phone, open my texts, type in his number, and send him a message.

Hi, it’s Anna from last night. Want to join me for brunch?

It’s bold. It’s uncompromising.

And as soon as I hit send, I wish I could delete it and pretend it never happened. But I can’t. It’s too late.

I stare at my phone, unsure if I want him to respond right away or never. With a quiet shriek of frustration, I stuff it under a throw pillow and march myself to the shower. Distraction is the only option.

CHAPTER SIX

Troy

My swim shorts still dripping and a towel tossed over my shoulder, I make my way back up to the house, Nick’s five-year-old daughter Shelby hanging off my arm like a monkey. She giggles and squeals as I lift her high in the air, then set her down on the next step before climbing it myself. We make our way up the steps from the dock this way after a refreshing morning of swimming.

Nick follows me up carrying his three-year-old son Noah with Shelby and Noah’s life jackets draped over his arms. When we get to the deck, Tina’s waiting for us in a sundress, towels at the ready. She laughs indulgently when she sees me making my way up the steps with Shelby in tow. “I hope you’re not hurting yourself just to keep my daughter entertained.”

Shaking my head, I grin at her, pulling Shelby up and flipping her upside down and making her squeal with glee, the dirty blond braids on either side of her head swinging down to the wooden deck. “Nah. She barely weighs anything! But I know you’re feeding her because I’ve seen her put away as much food as a grown man this week.”

Turning Shelby right side up, I set her on the deck. Giggling, she runs for her mom, swaying drunkenly from being flipped around so quickly. Tina catches her with a towel, scooping her up and wrapping the towel around her, Shelby’s legs kicking free.

“Awww,” Tina coos, “look at my little baby.”

“I’m not a baby!” Shelby protests, and Tina laughs.

Reaching them, Nick tugs gently on one of Shelby’s braids. “Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but you’ll always be our baby. Even when you’re grown.”

“But I’m five!” Shelby protests, pulling her hand free and holding it up, fingers splayed. “I’m big!

“Too big,” Tina groans, setting Shelby down, then putting her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe you’ll be in kindergarten soon! Who said you could get that big?”

Shelby looks up at her parents and shrugs. “Me!” Then to me, she says, “Come on, Uncle Troy! Chase me!”

I feint like I’m going to grab her, and she squeals, running into the house, looking over her shoulder at me as she’s forced to pause to yank open the sliding glass door. I take a few menacing steps closer, and she runs inside, slamming the door behind her with another squeal, careening into the house.

“Careful!” Tina calls after her, pulling the door open and poking her head inside. “No running on the hard floors with wet feet! You’ll slip and fall.”

“Troy’s gonna get me!” Shelby yells back, and Tina shakes her head, giving me a gimlet eye.

“Troy’s taking a break from playing right now, Shelby,” Nick calls after his daughter. “He’ll play with you again soon. We all need to eat something first, though.”

“Your phone chimed while you were in the water,” Tina mentions, nodding to where my phone sits nestled in my T-shirt on the deck chair along with a bottle of water.

Curious, I pick it up, and I almost rock back on my heels in shock when I see it’s from Anna.

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