Page 32 of Playoffs & Promises

"Maybe not to you, but she said it. Especially when you didn't come to Thanksgiving because you were," she uses her hands to make air quotes, "spending it with Cinnamon."

I feel just a little guilty at that. I had needed space from Dad, and Gabby and Gavin had been kind enough to let me spend the holiday with them and Gabby's family. I had spent a lot of time with Cinnamon that day, even if it wasn't how my Mom had imagined.

Hannah's friend bursts out laughing and gives her bodyguard a pleading look. "I really need my phone now. I promise, just the notes app."

Her bodyguard doesn't even bat an eye, but he reaches into his jacket, and pulls out a small notebook and a pencil for her instead.

"As entertaining as that all is," I cut in, "why have you all invaded my apartment this morning?"

Hannah's eyes gleam with mischief, "I'm so glad you asked, Lou." She's playing up the drama, like the host of a game show. "Want to tell us how Maria went from hating your guts to leaving the party last night hand in hand with you?"

"I'm rather charming," I reply, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Don't make me sick." She pretends to gag. "Try again."

"When did you get so bossy?" I ask deflecting. "Does Matt know you're this bossy?"

"When did you get so scared to answer the question?" she retorts, her eyes narrowing. "Don't make me have Matt beat you up."

"So violent," I mutter. Then my eyebrows pop up as I remember, "Wait, isn't your boyfriend playing on the other side of the country this week? That's why he couldn't make the engagement party right?"

Hannah huffs.

"I'm here," Nate chimes in.

I turn to the traitor, "You still owe me," I say.

Nate's grin gets bigger. "True, but we have practice to get to."

"No, we don't." I argue. "It's a recovery day."

"I'll go get his gear bag." Hannah laughs, running for my room.

But Nate and Dan are already on their feet, and before I know it, they're on me. Even the bodyguard joins in, and they truss me up like a turkey. I have no idea where they found the duct tape, but I'm too busy being manhandled to protest. They haul me out to Dan's SUV and toss me into the back seat like a sack of potatoes.

Alexis, carrying my bag of gear, hands it off to Dan before giving him a quick kiss.

"Get a room," I grumble, sounding like a sulky teenager.

They break apart, laughing.

Alexis shakes her head, "Don't worry about your dog Lou, the girls and I will watch her until you get back. We still have Maria to talk to."

They've got me taped up like a mummy, and yet here I am, standing by the plexiglass at the arena while the ice resurfacer crawls along, smoothing the rink for my humiliation. The driver doesn't even lift an eyebrow at the sight of me, wrapped in duct tape. I've given up trying to wriggle free, I know Nate and Dan will release me when they're good and ready, and not a second sooner.

"If you wanted to play, all you had to do was ask." I tell them, trying to sound casual despite the situation. If it were anyone else in the duct tape I'd be laughing.

Dan grins, his teeth bright. "Sure, but where's the fun in that."

I roll my eyes, and keep watching the slow-moving resurfacer. The ice looks decent, but there's something off. The machine's struggling, leaving behind a patchy gloss instead of the flawless sheen it should have.

Nate sighs, following my gaze. "We really need that new machine."

"Aren't we supposed to have it by now?" I ask. "They announced it months ago."

"They're waiting on that naming competition," Dan mutters, his voice tinged with frustration. "Arena politics."

"Let's go gear up." Nate says, jerking his chin toward the locker room. He at least has the decency to carry my gear bag, but they are making me hop after them like some sort of deranged kangaroo.

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