Page 12 of Enticing the Enforcer
Our waitress shows up just as Wittmore hits the ice. She’s cute, in a down-to-earth way, with a long blond braid, black leggings, and a Wittmore hockey jersey. Her green eyes are wide–fangirl wide–and she bites down on her bottom lip.
“I’m Shelby,” her voice wobbles, “and I’ll be your server.” Then in a low rush she adds, “But can I just say that I love you and your music. I was at the show last night and it was incredible. And I promise not to act weird, but I just needed to say something so that I could get it out of the way and we could move on.”
I laugh. “It’s fine. And I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”
She bounces on her toes a little. “It was so great. Amazing really.” She breathes in and exhales. “Okay, would you like to hear our specials? I think–”
She turns, flashing the back of her jersey.
“Rakestraw-slash-Wilder?” Madison asks, amused. “What, couldn’t pick just one?”
The girl rolls her eyes playfully. “That’s my brotherandmy boyfriend. My brother made this because, as he says, ‘family comes first.’”
She uses finger quotes, and Madison barks out a laugh, but my ears perk up. Rakestraw and Wilder. I know those names.
Jefferson mentioned a few of his roommates in passing the other night. “So who’s who? Your boyfriend and your brother?”
“Axel Rakestraw is my older brother. I moved out here about a month ago and have been staying with him.” Her cheeks get a little pink. “But Reid Wilder is my boyfriend.”
“You didn’t want to go to the game?” Madison asks, nodding at the TV. “It looks like a blast.”
“They told us not to come unless they make the finals. Superstition or whatever. So now we just sit here and ‘manifest.’”
“‘We’?” I ask, lifting a brow.
She tips her head toward a high-top table near the window. Two girls sit perched on stools, both leaning forward, eyes glued to the game. They’re in full Wittmore gear.
“That’s Twyler,” she points to a cute girl with a dark ponytail. “She dates Reese Cain, captain of the team. And Nadia is my brother’s girlfriend.”
I take in her friend. Her shirt is low cut, tits straining at the V, but the name across the back is definitive: RAKESTRAW 01.
“We’ve formed a bit of a weird support group.”
A support group for girls who love hockey players.
“Oh,” Madison says. “You’re WAGs.”
Wives and girlfriends of athletes. The college version at least.
My eyes skip between the three of them for a moment. How normal they look, sitting in this bar, dressed up to support their men. Like, theyownthis part of their life instead of avoiding it.
Jake never even came to my shows, and he absolutely refused to walk a red carpet.
Mads notices my silence. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie, turning back to the menu. “Just hungry.”
She gives me a long look, but doesn’t push it. And I’m relieved to change the subject by ordering. Shelby scribbles mine down, then grins. “That’s funny–our friend Jefferson orders the same thing every time. Burger, bacon, avocado, and crispy onions on top. The kitchen started calling it the Jefferson Parks Special.”
My stomach flips.
Madison perks up. “Wait–who’s Jefferson Parks?”
I manage a casual shrug, masking the flush in my cheeks. “Just one of their players, right?” My voice is breezy, but my chest pounds. What if she figures it out? That I met up with him two nights ago?
“You know, he’d freak out if he knew you ordered this. He’s a huge fan.”
I wait a beat, but if she knows anything, if Jefferson told her anything that happened between us, she doesn’t let on and excuses herself to go drop off our order.
