Page 50 of A Vegas Crush Collection #2

keep it movin’

Tyler

Smokeshow totally shut me down.

Damn.

Guess it’ll have to be Irina, then. She’s hot, too, so that’s fine, I suppose.

We’ll go out and get her tattooed, and then I’ll get her into bed.

Score one for America. And, you know maybe a couple of scores for Russia, too.

The female orgasm is real, and I’m generally an avid contributor to the cause.

I throw my jacket over my shoulder and catch the gentle trail of Zoya’s perfume. I breathe in a deeper whiff and feel a stab of something unpleasant hit me right in the upper chest.

Weird.

The lush floral fragrance sticks with me all the way back up to the mid-season press party for some reason. Maybe because I keep turning my head toward my shoulder and sniffing for it. The scent of Zoya Kolochev on my jacket is way more addicting than it should be. This I know.

Big Brother Kolochev accosts me right off the bat.

“Stay away from my sisters, Lockhardt.” He’s literally pointing his finger right into my face. “I am not kidding.”

I put my hands up. “Dude, I was just helping them get a ride home. Chill out. The younger one was bored out of her mind.”

“My sisters are not for your entertainment,” he says, then makes the universal two-finger signal for I’m watching you. “I want them far, far away from guys like you.”

This cracks me up. “Guys like me? May I remind you that before you met your wife, you were exactly the same. We went out together, dude. I know what you did. And you might have been even worse than me, if we’re really analyzing behaviors.”

“That may be the case, but I still don’t want you near my sisters. Don’t even look at them. They are off limits. O.F.F. Got it?”

I can’t help but roll my eyes at this guy.

All protective when, not too long ago, he would’ve screwed two hot chicks faster than you could order a value meal at McDonald’s.

It wouldn’t have mattered if they were the Pope’s daughters.

It wouldn’t have mattered if they were any other NHL player’s sisters either.

He had no moral fiber, and yet he attacks mine.

Hypocrite. Lucky for me, he won’t be able to guard them at every turn, but I’ll appease him, given I have to play with him and he’s a bitch on the ice when he doesn’t get his way.

“Whatever, bro. I was just being a gentleman. There are plenty of fish in the sea.”

Pam wanders back to Georg’s side, finally, but he’s still in a complainy mood. “You were supposed to give the girls a ride home.”

“Sorry. I got distracted by a tiny, pink human. Baby Alex was just too sweet to resist,” Pam says dreamily.

Georg isn’t having any of it. “Well, they had to get a ride service. And they had to hang out with Tyler Numbnuts for a while.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t all that bad. Tyler can be quite charming when he wants to be. And they are adults, Georg. They’re capable of riding two miles in a taxi cab.”

“Well, you said you would do it.”

Pam gives him big eyes. “Well, I’m not your personal assistant. You could have driven them home yourself, too. I felt like holding the baby, and I do what I please, thank you very much.”

“My father told me to keep an eye on them.” Georg just can’t let it go.

“Your father is an overprotective, old-fashioned man. The girls are grownups now and they’re looking for freedom. They need room to explore. They’ll be fine.”

“Tell my father that,” Georg mumbles under his breath.

This marital spat is boring. And fucking uncomfortable with me standing right here listening to it. Things like this are reason numero uno that I will never, ever fall in love or get in a relationship or whatever. They don’t even notice when I drift away from them.

I head back over to my tree trunk of a best friend.

He and Scarlett are cooing over their baby, who they named after both of their fathers.

Alexander Michael is his name and I made sure to carve it in stone in my brain.

Friends and family, I make an effort for.

Alex is a cute baby as babies go. Probably gonna be a brick shithouse like his dad.

I swear, the guy is a stone facade until he’s around his kid.

Then he turns into a really fucking large pile of mush.

“How was that?” Vik asks smugly.

“Georg was pretty clear about his feelings. Which means I got good and briefed! about how I need to stay away from his sisters.”

“I told you so.”

“Yep, you told me so, big guy. Georgie doesn’t want his sisters defiled by icky hockey players.”

“Well, family should be off limits anyway,” Scarlett chimes in.

“I think I’m team Georg with this one, Tyler.

There are plenty of bunnies who will hop right onto your carrot with very few repercussions.

Certainly, they won’t have the family baggage that those two would.

You should just shake it off and move on. ”

I narrow my eyes at her. “I will remember that, Red, the next time you want me to cooperate on some dumb-ass social media thing.”

“Oh, don’t be such a sore loser. You can’t have every pretty girl you see. Jesus, Tyler, let it go.” Vik stands there and smirks as his wife scolds me. No help from either of them coming my way on this.

Whateva.

Now I’m salty. Not at Red. I mean, I get it.

Stay away from sisters and from family in general.

Fine. But I’ve had enough of this party and this monkey suit.

I’ve sure as hell had enough of being told to back off from the Kolochev sisters.

I don’t act any damn different from any of these other assholes, yet I’m the one getting told to step away and keep it movin’.

I need to get out of here.

I’ll start banging my head against the wall soon if I don’t get somewhere with low lighting, willing women, and plentiful alcohol. See there? I’ll just go find myself another tall, brunette distraction.

As I told Georg, there are plenty of fish in the sea.

There are, yes.

But fuck. It’s not going to be so easy to forget the one who was wearing my jacket tonight. Smokeshow.

Dumb-ass move giving it to her, because, shit, she smells fucking fine.

Move along now, Locksey. Time for some fishing.