Page 139 of Behind the Net

I laugh, and Jamie growls.

“Careful, Owens,” he tells Hayden, but Hayden just grins and slaps him on the shoulder.

Other hockey players find us, and we’re surrounded. I feel like a baby elephant in the circle of giant adults, peering around them in short glances, on the lookout for Zach. I’ve never seen so many beautiful people in one place. The ballroom is packed with hockey players in tuxes, and I spot familiar faces from the Vancouver and Calgary teams, most of them wearing evidence of last night’s fight. I recognize a few celebrities, actors and musicians. My heart stops at a woman with long, platinum blond hair, but she turns and I let the breath out. It isn’t Layla. It’s a woman from a reality show.

Hazel finds me, and I light up at her magenta gown. “You look lovely.”

She gestures at me, eyes bugging out of her head. “Youlook great.”

I nudge Jamie at my side. “Someone hired hair and makeup to get me all pretty for tonight.”

He glances down at me, the corner of his mouth curling up before he nods. “Hazel.”

“Jamie.” She glances between us. Jamie’s hand is on my lower back, reassuring but possessive, and she smiles to herself as she looks at him with approval. “Nice work, Streicher. I’m still going to beat the crap out of you in physio, though.”

He nods. “I figured.”

They smile at each other like they’re friends, and my heart flips over.

“Good,” she chirps before looking at me, expression sobering. “I haven’t seen him yet.”

I lean in and lower my voice. “Which one is Table 16?”

She indicates a table across the room. “We’re on the other side of the room, thank fuck.” She shakes her head, nostrils flaring. “When I see that guy, I’m going to fucking destroy him.”

“Get in line,” Jamie tells her, eyes flashing.

“No one is going to destroy anyone,” I tell them, and I’m smiling because I love both of these people. “We’re not going to make a scene, because we’ll look like assholes.” I straighten up and lift my chin. “We’re going to ignore him.”

“But—” Hazel starts.

“Ignoring.” I nod and smile at her.

Her eyes narrow, and after a long moment, she relents. “Let’s get some booze.”

Minutes later, Hazel, Jamie, and I are at our table, chatting with players and sipping champagne, when Rory approaches.

Purple bruising surrounds his left eye, and there’s a red scrape across his jaw. Even with his wounds from last night, he cleans up nicely in his tux and fresh haircut.

“Hey, Pips.” He wraps me in a big hug. “You look so much better when you aren’t wearing that ugly Vancouver jersey.”

A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it. I spare a glance up at Jamie, and he rolls his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches, though.

Rory pulls back and nods at Jamie. “Streicher.” He tucks his hands in his pockets, studying the damage he did on Jamie’s face. “Nice shiner.”

Jamie tips his chin back at him. “Likewise.”

A beat passes, and I wait for the familiar tension that runs between them, but it doesn’t show up.

Jamie clears his throat. “We go to Hazel’s hot yoga classes on Sundays,” he tells Rory. Hazel’s just out of earshot, talking with Alexei. “It might help you get in better shape.”

Rory laughs. “You fucking asshole.”

Jamie almost smiles at that. I glance between them, fascinated. Men are so weird.

“Hartley?” Rory raises his voice, gaze straying to Hazel. His mouth tips into a teasing grin, but there’s more to his expression. Sincerity, like he wants to make sure she wants him there. “That okay with you, if I join yoga?”

She studies him before shrugging with a cool expression, like she doesn’t care. “Whatever.”

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