Page 22 of Passing the Red Line
Because not only is she Anderson’s daughter. She’s also a Knight employee come the start of the season. She’s our new team photog.
Well damn, this woman keeps surprising me left and right.
So… it’s too late to say that she bit me on the ass a week ago?
I don’t even want to fucking know.
I let out a laugh at my friend's discomfort and go back to catching up with my friends. I have a lot of questions for Eliana, and who knows if I will ever get to ask them. For now, I’m putting them on the back burner and just enjoying the night.
For the next hour or so, it's questions about hockey for me and life in Chicago, and since I’m not in any formal setting I feel comfortable answering them. The conversation isn’t only about me though, Miguel tells us what it's like to play soccer at the highest level and a few of the other guys tell us all about what it’s like to have kids and how their wives and girlfriends are doing.
The night is turning out to be a great one with laughs and memories.
Eventually those of us who stayed at the table decided to join the rest of the group at the pool tables.
From the looks of things, it looks like Eliana is hustling each one of my friends and she’s good at it too. Anderson must have trained her to know the ins and outs of all things competitiveness.
I watch her as she moves around the table. She may be a big pain in my ass, but there is something about her that has me invested in everything that she does.
Her laugh is sweet, and her eyes have a hint of mischief in them that I wouldn’t mind getting pointed at me every once in a while. Her beauty is also something that has my eyes staying on her for a good chunk of time.
She’s not wearing a whole lot of makeup tonight, or maybe she is, and she just made it look as natural as possible, and her dark hair is in waves down her back like that’s it’s natural form.
My eyes rack up and down her body, taking every inch of her in. I’ve only seen her in bikini bottoms and an oversized tank top, that seeing her in everyday clothes is throwing me off. But only for a second, because I catch sight of her ass in the jeans that she is wearing and all I want to do is call whoever sells them and buy every pair so that she can wear them every single day and gift me with that fantastic view.
I’m an ass man, what can I say?
Sometime around eleven o'clock, my group of friends starts to get smaller and around midnight, it’s just me, Miguel and Eliana left standing.
“You guys have a good set of friends behind you,” Eliana says, as she bends down to take her next shot on the pool table.
I think that is the nicest thing that she said to me in all of our banter.
Miguel gives her a nod. “Yeah, and it’s good that we’ve stayed in touch all of these years. Most people can’t say that. We may not see each other often but we all know that we’re there for each other when we need it the most.”
“That’s a good thing to have,” she says before taking her shot and landing one of her stripes into the left corner pocket.
Miguel and her talk some more about the night, all the while I just watch them play and nurse the beer I got over an hour ago.
I watch every single of Eliana’s movements, not giving a shit if she notices or not.
At midnight, Miguel puts down his cue stick and lets out a huge yawn.
“I’m going to head out. Early morning practice and all that,” he says, coming over to me and giving me a bro-pat on the back. “It was good seeing you man. Maybe we can meet up again before you head off to Chicago for the season.”
“Yeah. Whenever you want.”
He turns to face Eliana and throws her a nod. “Do you want me to give you a ride home?” he asks.
I don’t know why, but this territorial feeling starts to grow in my chest at the thought of them riding together tonight. I had asked her if she would be jealous if I was messaging a girl, but now I wonder if I have to ask myself that same question when it comes to Eliana grabbing a ride from my friend.
She’s a pain in my ass. She annoys me. She shouldn’t be making me feel territorial. Yet she is.
Which is why I speak up before she even gets to answer his question.
“I can take her home,” I say, dumping the remainder of my beer into one of the glasses on the table and stacking them up.
Turning back to face them, I find both Miguel and Eliana staring at me with wide eyes. Miguel with wide eyes of confusion, and Eliana with wide eyes telling me that she thinks I’m crazy.
