Page 81 of Friendzone Hockey
NOW
Dash
Imanage a shower and a hangover-cure breakfast of grease and coffee to breathe life into me. I also take the Advil Stacey left on my bedside table. I’m proud that I can keep it all down. I expect to see Stacey and the twins at the door, but it’s just Stacey.
I raise a brow and because he knows me so well, it asks all my questions for me.Where are they? Why is it just you?
“I’m your best man, not them. Heck, I suspect you don’t like them so much, so I took them over to Meyer Central. They were excited to help look after the kids. It’s a full house over there today.”
Try as I might, I can’t stop the smile that spreads onto my lips. Sun bursts through the rainy-day cloud that’s been stewing within me since they arrived.
“Nah. They’re so nice. Why would you think I don’t like them?”
His lips twist into a sly smirk. “You don’t remember why I tossed you over my shoulder last night, do you?”
Oh fuck. No. I don’t. The memory is buried somewhere within me, underwater, trying to rise to the surface. But my body somehow knows it’s gonna be embarrassing as fuck, breaking out with heat and regretful tingles. “Uh … do I wanna know?”
“Probably not.”
I rub my hand over my face. “I should probably know. Hit me with it.”
“You forechecked Trent with an invisible hockey stick, and you told Alex he was a Stacey-stealing hussy.”
I wince. Not the worst thing I’ve thought and wanted to do, but not great. “Hopefully that’s all?”
“You tore Alex away from me on the dancefloor and slammed him into a wall, telling him to keep his filthy-whore hands off me.”
Oh god. Oh fuck. I can never show myself at The Wicklow ever again. I can never show my face in public ever again. I cover my face with my hands. Warm palms circle my wrists, prying them away, forcing me to look into his brown eyes.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Stace. I’ll apologize.” It’s the last thing I wanna do, but I was out of line.
Stacey shrugs. “Meh. I kinda enjoyed seein’ you get all jealous. You’re kind of adorable when you’re angry.”
I take a step toward him. He’s still holding my wrists. “Then why did you stop me?”
“Because I know you. You think you feel bad now? You would have felt worse if you’d hit them. They’re not hockey players, Dash. Far from it. They want to be co-fashion designers.”
I purse my lips. “Admirable.”
He presses my nose. “Knew you hated them.”
“I said something nice!”
“With a sour look on your face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were still jealous, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.That word again. And as before, I’m conflicted. Do I tell him to stop calling me that? Or simply call him out for giving my name away? I settle on a glare.
“I’m not jealous. I just don’t think they’re good enough for you.”
Stacey’s hands find their way to mine. He threads our fingers together. “Tell me how much you’re in love with Syd.” His voice is low, laced with the gruffness of arousal.
I swallow the heat trying to rise.
“I’m the most in love with Syd,” I say. “I’ve never met anyone like him, Stace. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man.”
Other than the fact that he’s not you.
Stacey nods. “Right. Good, that’s good. That’s what I want for you, Dashie. I want you to be with the man of your dreams.”
