Page 27 of Delayed Offsides

“Which one? The one where you fall on your face again and your girl goes home with the fucker next to her?” He nods over his shoulder to where Callie is sitting. “’Cause that seems more likely.”

“No. The one where I shove this puck up your ass.”

Remy laughs. He knows I will if he keeps this shit up.

I don’t know how, because I play like absolute shit, but we win the game three to two over the Senators and head to Fifty/50 directly after the game.

Exactly what I need. Alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

* * *

Ordinarily,I wouldn’t think anything of it when Callie shows up at the same bar hanging on another guy. Doesn’t mean shit to me. Ordinarily.

We both know tonight is different.

And then she brings that fucker from the game here, and I think maybe I might leave. I don’t want to deal with this shit tonight. For some reason, I stay.

I stare the bartender down and knock my knuckles to the lip of the bar. “Buddy, where’s that drink, eh?”

I keep my eyes on the row of alcohol when I notice Travis approach me. “Hey, man.” Travis points to the end of the bar near the door. “That chick wants to meet ya.”

I sneak a look at Callie first, two tables away, to see if she’s looking at me. Nothing. She’s staring at her hands. My eyes drift to the end of the bar. The girl in question offers me a warm smile as Travis turns to leave, returning to the table where everyone else is sitting.

I check on the blonde again. Not bad. Young. Cute. Long legs.

“Why not?” I mutter, reaching for that beer and heading to the end of the bar where the girl is waiting. “What’s your name, honey?” There’s an edge to my voice, annoyance maybe, but I soften it because this girl doesn’t deserve that.

She smiles, holding out a perfectly manicured hand. “Lexi.”

I check her out, blatantly so. Tight black dress clinging to curves and fake tits. “Mmmm.” I wink at her. Girls love that shit. “Mind if I sit?”

“No.” She giggles, her cheeks flushing even in the low lighting. “What happened to your lip?”

I’d almost forgotten about it until now. “Face full of boards tonight.”

“Oh shit.” Her eyes widen. “So you’re really Leo Orting, the hockey player?”

“Last time I checked, I was.” That’s exactly what she wants to hear from me. I’m the guy she’s hoping will make her every fantasy come true, if just for one night.

We sit there talking, but it’s uneventful. Mindless. Like talking to a reporter. I can’t keep my mind on what this girl is saying to me. Instead, my focus is on Callie. She’s sitting at the table with Ami and Mase, alongside that motherfucker she thought to bring in here. In our bar. Okay, it’s not our bar, but every hookup last year started here. It’s our fucking bar.

God, it pisses me off. Here she wants to be better, and then she fuckin’ shows up with another guy. Fuck that. See if she likes this shit.

“You ready to get out of here?” I ask in Lexi’s ear, leaning in.

When I pull back to gauge her reaction, her smile brightens as if she’s been waiting on those words all night. “I’d love it.”

My stare catches Callie, and she looks away from me immediately. Drawing in a breath, I down my beer before placing the glass on the bar. “Well then, let’s go.” I return the smile and reach for her hand. Her eyes gleam as she reaches for her jacket with shaking hands and pink cheeks.

“Where do you live?” Her eyes meet mine, neon glow lighting up her face, then away to the pavement covered in a layer of snow.

“I have a roommate.” I nod up the street to a cab waiting. “How about your place?”

Raising my hands, I blow a breath into them, trying to warm myself up a little. Winters in Chicago are brutal. As we walk up the street, our feet crunching on the ice, I curl into my jacket. Out of the corner of my eye, I see she’s watching me. I’m focused on her when a guy on the street yells, “Orting!”

I don’t look up. What I do realize is the expression the blonde next to me is wearing. Every girl wants to go back to my place. I don’t allow it and I certainly won’t change that rule tonight. I know what you’re thinking. Callie was at my place. She’s different. Or I thought she was.

Me and this Laurie chick. Wait. That’s not her name. Shit. What is it?

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