remembered; Dean was a hockey fan.
I was, too, but I kept my undying adoration on the down-low like a lot of things.
Not Dean. He was out of the closet and loud and proud about his love for the Kansas City Mustangs. He also turned traitor and was a Cans fan, as well as the Polars (boo, hiss), but both those teams weren’t in this current building or city. So yeah, it made sense now. He was geeking out on the full freak-out reader.
That, and I was wondering how much champagne he had already consumed because he just downed both those two flutes in front of me. He was so drunk that my own lit meter was heading down into the empty zone. Not cool. Not cool, indeed, and where were my girls?
Just then, I saw one of them.
And my lit meter skyrocketed right into the red zone.
The crowd parted. I had a clear view right smack to the bar, and there she was. And she wasn’t alone.
Sasha had her sultry and seductive pose out, clearly liking what she saw, gazing up at him.
2
Cut
This chick was saying she was Russian.
She wasn’t Russian. I knew this because one: she was seriously faking the worst accent in the world. It sounded more like she was trying to sound Australian mixed with a German flavor to it, and two: if she thought I didn’t remember her from college, she was fucking loco. I knew she went to Silvard, the same college I came from because she hooked up with my best friend in the year that I was there.
He told me all about a certain one-nighter he had that he wished could’ve been a whole one-monther, but he wouldn’t go into specifics about why she couldn’t have her ‘deadline’ extended. That was his thing. He gave his girls ‘deadlines’ about how long he’d stay with them. They never knew, but I did.
I never wanted to know.
He just whined about her, a lot, and complained about all the fun he could’ve had with the wannabe-Russian. He said she had no accent back then, so that was new. I was tempted to text him, let him know his one-nighter was back if he wanted another go? Whatever reasons had to have expired by now since we’re what? Four years after college? Hell. Longer. He said he bagged her our freshman year, but since that was the only time he and I were at Silvard together, I never thought to ask him about an update on his Russian one-nighter.
Me, because I obviously got drafted the next year to Kansas City. And him, because he followed me and attended Kansas University, going into their business program. He was a club promoter now, which was perfect for him since my boy liked to party. A lot.
Her hand started rubbing up and down over my bicep.
Totally texting my boy.
I was pulling my phone out when another person hit our group, stopping and smiling at the Not-Russian chick, holding his drink and taking a sip. “Well, hello there.”
Franklin. He was first line with me, and his eyes shifted to mine, knowing I wasn’t going to be tapping this ass. My tastes ran more toward girls who wouldn’t be likely to try to knife me after the condom was pulled off. I avoided the crazy at all costs.
I grinned back and nodded just the slightest, giving him my go-ahead.
His grin turned into a smile and he shifted, putting his drink on the bar between us, insinuating himself more between her and me.
I moved back, just fine with this turn of events.
Cut: Your Russian ass from Silvard is here.
Chad: Where?
I sent him the address and put my phone away. If he didn’t believe me, he’d still come. Chad didn’t turn down any event. It was perfect networking for him, especially at these events. A lot of high-rollers were here who enjoyed being photographed with the players. This one was more off-the-books, so the liquor had loosened most everyone up, including myself. I had a two-drink rule, but we kicked ass at our pre-season games, so I was feeling the celebrations tonight.
“What’s your name?” That was Franklin, doing his thing.
“I’m Sasha.”
I could hear that she was pissed. She knew she got handed off.
I moved farther back, taking my drink with me.
“What’s going on over there?”
Hendrix moved to the bar beside me, nodding to Franklin.
I turned, my back going to the room. “Frank’s doing his thing.”
“Thought you were taking her number.”
“Nah. I know her from