Page 45 of O Goalie Night
Ben leads me around the room, introducing me to hockey players young and old as his “baby sister.” The implication is clear: Do not attempt to sleep with her.
His teammates all seem friendly and in excellent moods. As well they should be. They’re having a great season and had a positively stellar week on the ice.
Not to mention that many of them have gorgeous young women by their sides or, in some cases, in their laps. I thought I looked nice leaving the house, but now I feel somewhat dressed-down surrounded by model-like women in skimpy dresses.
Foster is nowhere to be seen when I scan the dimly lit room and I wonder if he’s found a private corner to share with his own female companion. Not that it’s any of my business what he does with whom, but I do wonder where he’s gotten off to.
Not that I’m thinking about him getting off. Oh god. Now I am.
The sensible part of me knows that I’m being foolish. After all, Foster is so far out of my league, we’re barely the same species. Still, the thought of him with another woman is almost too much to bear. It’s like how I felt when I realised that I wasn’t going to marry Uncle Jesse fromFull Housebecause he was thirty some years older than me and already married to a supermodel. Only take that disillusion and heartbreak and multiply it by ten.
Soon I find myself settled on a plush sofa with a forward named Alexei and his very pregnant wife, Kim. Ben, satisfied that I can’t get into any trouble here, leaves to go to the restroom.
“How are you enjoying Ottawa?” Kim asks, leaning towards me to be heard over the noise. She pushes her long blonde hair over her shoulder with one hand as the other rests on her stomach.
“Good, so far. I’ve only been here for a few weeks.”
She nods. “This is our second winter here. Alexei played in Florida for eight years before signing with the Otters.”
I smile and nod like this is new information, but anyone who follows hockey knows Alexei Pavlov. He’s been in the league for almost two decades and his career is the stuff of legends.
“I’m from Newfoundland, originally, but my familymoved to New Brunswick when I was fifteen,” she continues. “I met him when he was in junior league. I’ve been following him around ever since.” Her husband, though engaged in a conversation with a teammate, seems to sense his wife talking about him. When his eyes meet hers, his face softens and he winks before turning back to his conversation.
Such a brief look, but so much transpired between them.
“This is our fourth,” she says, rubbing her larger-than-life belly. “Our oldest is twelve and our youngest is six, so she came as a bit of a surprise to both of us.”
“When are you due?”
“December twenty-fifth,” she answers with a smirk. “But I’m hoping she’ll come a bit earlier.”
Alexei stands and asks her “Can I get you something to drink, love?”
“Another sparkling water, please.”
He nods at me, politely. “And you, Beth?”
I’m about to answer when a shadow falls over me.
“I’ve got her,” Foster says, holding a tall frosted glass out to me. It’s filled with liquid that’s even brighter red than my lipstick. There are cranberries floating in the glass and the rim is coated in sparkling sugar crystals.
My eyes widen. “What on Earth is in this?”
He sits down dangerously close to me, draping an arm around the back of my seat. “No idea. But it’s called a Holly Jolly, so I thought you’d like it.”
I feel heat rush to my cheeks and pray to Santa and all his reindeers that no one can see me blushing in the low light of the club.
“Thank you.” I bring the glass to my lips and take a small sip. Damn. That is jolly. And strong.
“How is it?” Foster asks.
“Brimming with Christmas cheer,” I reply before taking another small drink. It goes down easier this time.
I look back up at Foster to find him once again staring at my mouth and immediately wonder if I’ve smudged my lipstick.
“You, uh… you have a bit of sugar on your lips,” he says, his voice low.
Without thinking, I run my tongue over my top lip and his jaw immediately hardens. He’s looking at me in a way I’m sure no one has ever before and it robs my body of breath. The heat from my cheeks spreads like wildfire through my entire body as though I’m being consumed.
