Page 183 of Waiting Game

“You frigid bitch!”

“I’m not sure what my sexual activities have to do with you being barred, but I don’t give a damn about what you think or say or do. Get the hell out?—”

“I don’t know why I stick around this shithole anyway,” he snarls before storming off.

When he moves over to his friends, I watch him duck between them, angrily jerking his thumb toward the door, but then his expression flatlines as neither man gets up. They let him leave on his own.

As he does, he picks up the A-frame sign outside and slams it at the door.

Jolting in shock, I recognize how lucky I am his aim is shit because it collided with the sidewalk first and smashed there. Not the glass window in my door that I can’t afford to replace.

There’s an odd welter of silence after that ringing noise before, out of the blue, everyone joins in a round of applause at his expulsion.

It’s definitely unexpected and, flustered, I twist around to find even the new patrons are getting in on the action. Never mind Chuck’s old buddies.

“About damn time,” Biff grumbles, one eye on his peanuts, another on the game—don’t even ask me how that’s medically possible but it is.

“Chuck was a fool for letting him stick around,” Walt agrees.

“I’m glad you think I did the right thing.” Turning to look at Jarvis, I see his shoulders are hunched and the despondency in his expression has me thinking Jasonwasonto something… Lightly, feeling horrible as I wonder if I led him on, I ask, “You were saying about a billet family?”

Without looking at me, he mumbles, “Cole stayed with the Bukowskis when he played in Winnipeg as a teen. But he wasn’t the only one. Matt Ellison was another of those kids.”

“How many were there?”

“Three Bukowski boys. As for the billet boys, four.”

“Jesus Christ. Mama Bukowski must have had her hands full.”

He bites off a laugh. “You could say that. When most of them came out in the first round of their draft, the papers started asking if they should be bottling the water at the Bukowski house?—”

“It’s good to be in the first round of the draft?”

“Yeah. It means every team wanted them.”

“Huh.”

“Korhonen and Ellison were two of them. It’s unusual as fuck for a goalie to be a first-round draft pick, practically unheard of, but he’s not only got magic hands, he’s the eye of every storm—so calm all the damn time. I hate Boston and even I’m big enough to admit that he’s fantastic.”

So, Cole grew up not only with Gracie and her brothers, but with a bunch of other boys too… Fascinating.

When I throw into the mix the fact that Cole also has three male siblings, I have to wonder how he got into romance novels.

My cell buzzes as if the man of the hour knew I was thinking about him.

Cole: Thanks for stalking me, beautiful. TTYL.

A non-answer if ever I heard it.

Jarvis shakes his head as he shoves his phone at me. “Look at this guy.”

My brows lift when I spot Cole on TikTok with a bunch of players—they’re clearly walking into the stadium so it’s from before the game.

Which, of course, is when I remember it’s been so crazy that I forgot to send him his damn pregame porn.

“I wish I had his self-confidence.”

Chuckling despite my guilt, I say, “I do too.”

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