Page 63 of Face Off
Her mouth opens then closes. A deep flush of pink settles on her cheeks, and she grips the door knob with white knuckles.
“Yeah, I’m allergic. I’m surprised you—” She shakes her head. “I’ll see you inside, Miller.”
I grin when she shuts the door softly behind her.
I managed to not get thrown off the balconyandI made her laugh.
Twice.
Hat trick for me.
EIGHTEEN
MAVERICK
“On the road again.”I lean back in my seat on the charter plane and stretch out my legs. “People always have such nice things to say about Chicago in November.”
Hudson laughs across the table from me. “That’s like saying the North Pole has the nicest beaches around. It’s going to be cold as hell, and I forgot my beanie at home. It’s my lucky one, too, so if things go wrong in tomorrow’s game, you can blame me.”
“Can I blame you for the other three losses?” I joke, knowing fully well it’s not Hudson’s fault we’ve stumbled into a losing streak.
We’ve all been off lately, but I’ve been really fucking off.
I’ve missed open shots on net. I’ve spent more time in the penalty box this past week than I did the first month of the season. I keep letting my frustrations out on the ice, which puts my teammates at a disadvantage that isn’t fair to them.
I’m distracted, some outside force occupying my mind and pulling my attention from the game, but I can’t figure out what the hell it is.
I’ve tried to do puzzles. I’ve tried to meditate like the team psychologist suggested. I’ve been getting enough sleep andsticking to the nutrition plan my personal chef put together, but something is still off.
It’s irritating the fuck out of me, and I don’t like that it’s also affecting the team.
“Do you have any plans for the Windy City?” Hudson asks as he taps on his headphones. “You’re probably getting into something tonight, right? Grant mentioned a club or a karaoke bar or a karaoke club. The details have slipped my mind.”
“I think he was talking about a club that plays the top songs people pick when they sing karaoke, but the idea of a karaoke club could be really fucking lucrative.” I turn my phone on airplane mode and slip it in my pocket. “I’m not going, though. I’m just going to chill at the hotel. Why? Do you have plans?”
“Come on, man.” He laughs and brushes pieces of blonde hair out of his eyes. “You know my away game tradition consists of croissants from local bakeries and checking out bookstores.”
“Hud. Have your traditions ever included a one-night stand?” I ask. I dig deep into my memory, and there’s no recollection of him bringing anyone back to the hotel after curfew.
“Nah. You know that’s not my thing. I’m a relationship guy.” A blush creeps up his neck, and he grins sheepishly. “I’d have no idea how to handle that. You go from talking to hooking up in a couple of hours? What about getting to know them?”
“That’s the whole point. You don’t get to know them. It’s just mindless stuff for you both to enjoy for the night. No names. No personal details. No sticking around.”
“I think I’d be terrible at it. I’d be asking her where she sees herself in five years while she’s got her hand down my pants.” He stares at me, and his sudden attention makes me fidgety. “Speaking of one-night stands, you’ve been different lately.”
“Different?”
“You’re not sneaking anyone into your room. You’re downstairs at breakfast before all of us, and there haven’t been any hickeys on your neck.” Hudson leans forward, pulling on my collar, and I bat his hand away. “It’s interesting.”
I pop a shoulder in a shrug. “I’m putting hockey first and trying to keep us from losing four in a row. I think that win we stole last week was a fluke.”
“It’s not just right now. It’s been going on for a while. Ever since—” Hudson sits up and looks over his shoulder. He rubs his jaw, and there’s something on the tip of his tongue he’s not telling me. “Anyway. I’m here if there’s ever anything you need to talk about. No judgment. I promise.”
“I appreciate that, Hud, but I’m fine.” I smile. “If that changes, I’ll let you know.”
“Hi, boys.” The flight attendant leans her elbow on my seat and bats her eyes at us. I’m not sure her tight shirt is in line with the airline’s uniform standards, but that’s above my pay grade. “Can you put your seatbelts on, please?”
“Sure thing,” I say, and I give her a thumbs-up. She giggles and flips her hair over her shoulder, hurrying down the aisle. “Wow. Didn’t know I was that funny.”
