Page 5 of Good Vibes Only
“Whoa, whoa—who said I needporn? I’m six foot five,” Dakota said smugly. “All I gotta do is walk into a club and women flock to my side. And that’sbeforeI tell them I’m a pro athlete. What do you think happens then?”
“They google your stat line? And instantly turn dryer than the Sahara?” I chirped before he could finish his thought, and the poker table roared with laughter.
“You’re lucky you play hockey for a living, Allred,” he said, laughing. “Women wouldn’t give you the time of day if you were some Joe Schmo car salesman from Saskatoon.”
I snickered. “You think I don’t know that? Girls didn’t evenlookat me until I made the show.”
“Well, to be fair,” Tank began, “they might not have seen you standing there.”
Everyone laughed.
I laughed, too. You don’t make it as far as I have in life without being able to laugh at yourself—especially when you’re my height. I’m five foot nine. And while that’s taller than the average male, it’s far below the average NHL height of six foot one. My height has made me a target on the ice for as long as I can remember—but if anyone thinks I’ll be an easy target, it’ll be thelastmistake they make.
“Alright, boys. Enough chatter.” Rust had finished dealing cards and was eager to get the ball rolling. “Let’s play.”
But Tank’s eyes were transfixed on his iPad again. “Wait, wait!”
Everyone groaned:
“C’mon, Tank!”
“Let’s play!”
“We don’t care about your stupid porno cake.”
“It’s not about cake,” he protested. He pointed a finger at me. “It’s about Showtime.”
My head tilted. “Huh?”
“It’s an article about your brewery, dude!”
My ears perked up. “Really? Let’s hear it.”
Tank started to read from the article. “‘Brett Allred, who plays professional hockey for the Vegas Sin, has filed plans to open a craft brewery and restaurant in Las Vegas. The diminutive forward—’”
Everyone snickered at the author’s word choice.“Diminutive.”
“Just gotta slip that word in there, don’t they?” I mused.
Of course, if you can’t tell by now, I’m used to hearing it.
Tank continued reading. “‘—the diminutive forward no doubt hopes Las Vegans will embrace BarDown Brewery as warmly as they have his incredibly skilled, though equally dirty, play.’”
The boys loved that, breaking into a chorus of laughs:
“Equally dirty!”
“Showtime got called out by a food critic!”
Tank read more. “‘Widely regarded as the type of player one hates to play against but would love to have on one’s own team, Allred is something of a controversial figure outside of Las Vegas. He’ll have to hope his restaurant doesn’t inspire the same level of polarization as his game does on the ice, or it will surely fail.’”
“Did I do something to piss thisclown off?” I muttered, cracking my knuckles. “It’s like hewantsme to fail at this.”
“Maybe he’s a secret Blizzard fan?” Connor joked.
“Wouldn’t shock me. He’s talking more about my game than he is the brewery.”
“He talks more about the brewery right here,” Tank said, and continued reading. “‘The 3,500 square foot building is spacious, though it might be a bit cramped for the full-scale brewery and restaurant operation Allred has planned. The Valley View Boulevard location is beautiful, but perhaps a little strange, considering it will be next-door neighbors with Good Vibes Only.’”
