Scoring Off The Ice (Ice Kings #2) - Stacey Lynn Page 0,58
wanted to see more of her bikini, and more of her out of it, I drifted off to the guys.
I have barely spoken more than four words to her since we arrived hours ago, but there will be time for that later.
“What are you losers sitting out here talking about?” Jude asks, sauntering up to us and slapping his brother on the shoulder. Their family is the best. Both guys are cool to hang out with. I went a little starstruck when I met their dad, John Senior, former New York hockey player, a man I grew up idolizing and wanting to be like.
When I first was drafted to the Ice Kings, I was sure his sons would be full of ego and arrogance, but they are good guys.
“Paisley,” I admit, and I do not care. “And I was thanking Jason for helping me get her.”
Jude’s brows jump. “You took my brother’s advice? And it worked?”
“Shove off baby Jude. I have mad game.”
“Yeah with girls for a night or two, not long-lasting ones.”
Jason makes a face that says he wants to punch his brother, but he is full of crap. The guys never fight. Not in any way that says they mean it. They’re too close for that.
“His advice worked for me.”
Which is stupid I needed it, but the night Paisley was at my place and Jason pulled me aside, he said one thing that stuck with me. That gave me the confidence to go after what I wanted, finally, going after something I want off the ice.
Girls like boldness and confidence. Say what you feel. Tell her what you think. But make sure it’s honest. That’s all you have to do.
For a man who seems to know women so well, I’m surprised he doesn’t seem to care about anything more than short-term flings.
“Katie really likes her. She seems sweet. How’s everything going with Angelo?”
I haven’t had time to tell anyone about the nanny company, although I dealt with them immediately Friday night. They have someone new coming tomorrow. Time is ticking down.
We start training camp soon and exhibition games shortly after. Then the season begins.
If I’m going to be able to focus on my game this season, I need to know Angelo is taken care of while I am gone.
“Good. I guess.” I take a sip of my water and shake my head. “That is not true. I think I fail at everything and every time I think of Angela, I want to punch someone. Not her,” I say quickly. The guys know me, but that doesn’t mean I want them thinking I’d hit a woman.
Never. But if I would… Angela would be at the top of my list.
“Have you talked to her at all? Ask her what the hell she was thinking?”
“I’m leaving that to my lawyer.” My jaw tics as I think about Luke tracking her down. For someone who claims to be easy to find she doesn’t seem interested in speaking with him now, and even though he tells me not to be concerned, I can’t help it.
Today is not that day to be angry thinking about her, though.
“Where is Hendrix?” I scan the crowd. The entire team isn’t here, but most are and it’s not like Hendrix to miss out on a party. Plus, I want the change of subject.
“Madison is probably demanding attention,” Jason says, seething behind his bottle of beer. “I’m sure he’ll show later.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Jude says. “The man’s been in a crap mood all week.”
“Because of Madison?” I have never understood the two of them. She acts like she hates all of us and the team and yet she has no problem enjoying the money.
“Who knows.” Jason shrugs and he lifts his hand toward Chauncy across the patio. “And who cares. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll kick her to the curb. I’ve gotta talk to Sawyer.”
He takes off, heading toward Sawyer who has a girl at his side, someone I recognize. “What is Sawyer’s sister doing in town?”
From what I can recall, she still lives in Toronto, Ontario where Sawyer is from. She usually comes to one or two games a year, but usually only around the holidays.
“You didn’t hear?” At the quick shake of my head, Jude’s jaw drops. “Dude. Sawyer’s pissed. Her fiancé has been treating her like crap, so he offered to fly her down for the weekend. But apparently when she got back from work the other day before her flight