Page 34 of Double Pucked

When I finish a small stack of batter-y goodness dripping in decadent syrup, I say, “These are the best. And I’d know. I’m in my pancake era.”

“My whole life is my pancake era,” Chase says.

Ryker leans back in his chair. “Didn’t you say the same thing about your chocolate chip cookie era? And your waffle—”

“Hey now,” Chase chides.

“Don’t forget your acai bowl phase,” Ryker adds. “And there’s also your daily devotion to coffee at Doctor Insomnia’s.”

“I like my rituals,” Chase says, raising his chin.

“And Doctor Insomnia’s coffee is life-giving. I will attest to that,” I say, then push back in my chair so I can clean up.

But Chase sets a hand on my arm. “What are you up to today, sweetness?”

My chest warms. It’d be far too easy to get used to him calling me that. “Well, I got good news this morning. I found an apartment.”

He offers a hand to high-five as I tell him about my email. “So after work, I need to sign the paperwork before Aubrey’s landlord finds out she has a dog in her place, and then I only have nine days left of hiding my pup from him.” I cross my fingers.

Chase’s jaw falls open. “You have to hide the dog?”

I frown. “We sort of have to smuggle him in and out. But Nacho’s quiet and doesn’t bark much. He’s a very good boy—well, except for his taste for undies. And he’s at doggie daycare now anyway. Aubrey dropped him—”

“Stay with me,” Chase says, like he’s brooking no argument. “Both of you. For the next week.”

I stare at him, bug-eyed, I’m sure. “My dog and me?”

He sweeps out a hand to indicate this space. He has a lot of it. “This is a three-bedroom and there’s only one of me. I have a guest room. The designer set it up,” he says as Ryker takes a sip of his coffee. I bet he drinks it extra scalding. With salt added to strengthen his ire.

But I focus on the guy making the kindest offer. “Chase,” I reply, since I truly don’t know what else to say. It’s so generous. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Chase asks, a little demanding. Or really, a lot.

“I just…that’s too nice,” I say.

“He is nice. He means it,” Ryker says, like he’s protective of his friend, and holy hell, that’s…sexy too. Like when he offered to fuck up Jasper. Like when he said my trick was between us.

“I know,” I say.

“He wants to help you, Trina,” Ryker adds, making Chase’s case.

With aguilty as chargedsmile, Chase just shrugs. “You should not have to hide Nacho away. Also, I love dogs. And my landlord”—he stops to point at himself—“is very dog friendly.”

“I got that feeling,” I tease, since Chase asked me to show him photos of my little guy last night. That was no hardship.

“I’m dying to get a dog someday,” he adds. “Did you know I spearheaded the Hockey Hotties calendar? It raises money for dog rescue. We have the kickoff event in a couple weeks, and pretty sure you’re going to that?”

Butterflies flap in my chest, since thinking of that event—the final piece of the VIP experience—feels presumptuous after last night. But then again, Chase seems hellbent on being the world’s most chill host, so I say yes.

“Excellent. And a bunch of my teammates are doing it—Erik, my goalie, who’s marrying my cousin next weekend. Ledger, who’s been on the team forever, and is the most sarcastic dude I know. Ryker will try to back out of it, but you can help me work him over, Trina,” Chase says, making a pitch even though I’m already sold.

“Ryker, do it,” I say, batting my lashes in an over the top fashion.

Ryker crosses his arms.

“Anyway,” Chase continues, “I want to adopt a dog someday and teach him to surf. Well, when I retire. Does Nacho like to swim? We could take him to Crissy Field,” he says, lighting up like a kid on his birthday. “Or a dog park.”

Wait till I blow his mind. “He does dog agility,” I say, like it’s a secret confession.

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