Page 23 of Grudge Puck
Beau led us to the back. Five other men, all tall and strapping like Beau, sat around a giant, crescent-shaped, royal-purple velvet booth. Several women sat between them.
“Boys, this is Camille Kennedy and Piper--”
“Eaglestorm!” she chirped.
Beau scratched his head. “Really? Piper Eaglestorm?”
She explained it with those two magical words—“Hippie parents.”
“Ah. Say no more.” Beau started pointing out his teammates. “Anyway, this is forward Vinny DeMarco and Iggy Morrow, our goalie Leif Komarov, defenseman JT Kiernan, and his d-partner, Jack Cameron.”
I smiled and waved at all of them. “Hi guys.”
They answered with a grunted chorus of greetings.
Piper hopped into the booth and slid right next to Jack Cameron, who was easily the biggest and strongest of them all, even if his boyish looks suggested that he was also the youngest.
Piper immediately wrapped her hand around his thick forearm—or tried to, anyway. “Wow,” she muttered breathlessly, impressed.
The poor boy had clearly never met someone like her. He chuckled uncomfortably. “Uh, hey there, miss.”
Beau turned to me. “Wanna sit?”
Not really, but I already came this far, didn't I?
“Sure … why not …”
We slid into the booth. The couch was soft and comfortable and, at least over here, away from all the craziness of the dance floor, it wasn't quite so scorching hot and ear-drum-shattering loud. But still, it was noisy enough that you had to get close to the person you were talking to. And looking all around the booth, I noticed all of Beau's teammates and friends retreated into their own private conversations.
Beau smiled at me. The smile that I couldn't trust, the smile that turned my stomachandput butterflies in it at the same time. I'd rather be sitting this close to Piper, but she was much more interested in trying to chat up Jack Cameron.
“So really, how've you been?” Beau asked.
“Good,” I blurted out, but I wasn't about to let him in on my personal life. “So where'd those girls of yours go?”
“Oh, they're out there dancing.” He pointed somewhere into the crowd.
“I see. So how'd you meet them?”
I expected him to spin some yarn about how those girls were just some really good friends that he'd made from this-or-that event—when really, it was obvious that he didn't know or care who they were. To Beau, the only thing that mattered was that they werehot pieces of ass.
But Beau didn't bother trying to lie. Instead, he fought back a coy smile and asked, “You really wanna know?”
“Sure, why not.”
He shrugged. “A dating app.”
I laughed. “You mean to seriously tell me that you date four girls at a time?”
“I'm not trying to actuallydate them. I just invite them out. Whatever happens, happens.”
“Ew, Beau.” I buried my face in my hands. “That's appalling. I can't believe they even put up with that.”
He laughed. “I don't get it either. But they don't seem to mind. Actually, it works better than if I only invite one girl out. Imagine that. They start competing with each other. It's like they don't even care about me—they just want to beat each other.”
“Wait. Competing with each other for what? For the right tosleepwith you?” I asked, appalled.
Beau laughed. “Believe it or not.” He flexed his bicep, and the arm of his suit jacket bunched up all around the swollen knot of muscle.
