Page 24

TWENTY-FOUR

Hannah may actually be my good luck charm. Since she moved in, we’ve been on a winning streak, and tonight we secured another one. I’m less superstitious than most hockey players, but even I can’t deny the effect she has on my game. Having her in the stands fueled my drive to make her proud… maybe even impress her a little.

“Three game heater, boys!” Fox’s voice rings out through the locker room.

“Where we going tonight?” Volk asks in his accented timbre. He’s usually on my “let’s not go out” bandwagon, so I’m surprised he’s the one rallying the guys this time.

The fast-paced lifestyle of being a professional athlete gets old quick. Now, with Hannah here, going out holds even less appeal. I’m all for team bonding, but I see these fools more than enough during the season. When I have the chance, I’d rather be home with her.

Plus, I’ve known what I want for years, and I won’t find it at a sports bar. “Can’t tonight. I have plans with Hannah.”

“Oh, you do?” Fox asks, with a smirk on his face that tells me he’s up to no good. “That’s funny, because Hannah has plans with us.” Now he’s full-on grinning.

“Excuse me?” I fail to hide my surprise.

Fox lights up his screen and shows me a message chain with Hannah, confirming his story.

“When the fuck did you even get her number?”

“The other day, when you restocked the snacks.” He slings an arm over my shoulders.

“You sneaky fucker.” I huff.

“What? We’re friends now. We even started a book club. My very first girl friend.” Fox chuckles, looking way too proud of himself.

I’m glad she and Fox hit it off, and hopefully, she’ll click with the rest of the guys when she hangs out with them tonight, but it would be nice to be included in the plans.

“Guess who else is coming out? Mr. King is back, baby!”

I guess he’s recovered enough to manage everyday activities, but he’s on injured reserve for the rest of the season. We’ve all missed his presence on the ice, but Fox misses him the most off of it, with them being partners in crime. Volk and I have reluctantly taken over wingman duties in his absence, but it hasn’t gone too well. For me, it’s hard to pick up women when I have zero interest, and Volk scares off ninety percent of them with his natural charm—or rather, lack thereof.

I rush through a quick cool-down and shower before heading toward the friends and family area to find Hannah. Her back is to me as I round the corner, and seeing her in my jersey— Logan and the number 19 across her back—gives me a weird feeling in my chest. The satisfaction is tenfold compared to the win tonight.

When I reach her, I tug gently on her ponytail before wrapping my arms around her waist and lifting her off the ground.

She squeals in surprise, but as soon as she realizes it’s me, she relaxes into my chest.

“I heard you made plans for us.” My lips brush her ear.

“Us? Nope, just me, but you’re welcome to join,” she teases, looking back over her shoulder.

“I think I will.” I hold her for a moment longer before placing her back on her feet.

She spins and links her arm through mine. “Good game. I’m not saying it’s because I was here… but it might be because I was here.” She attempts to wink but fails, as usual.

“Yep, it’s all you, my little leprechaun,” I say with a chuckle. Note to self: calling her a leprechaun is probably as sexy as the Hannah Banana nickname. Shaking my head, I lead her toward the players’ exit. “C’mon, let’s go.”

We climb into the back of Fox’s car, where he and Volk are already waiting.

By the time we arrive at the bar—a new spot closer to where King lives—it’s almost eleven. The place is more packed than I expected for a Monday night. Unlike Sully’s, this place feels more like a nightclub than a neighborhood bar.

Hannah, in a jersey and jeans, stands out among all the women in short dresses and heels. Yet, she’s still the sexiest sight in the room.

“King is five minutes out. He said to grab a table,” Fox shouts over the deep bass of the music.

With my hand on the small of her back, I guide Hannah to a table away from the commotion at the bar and pull out a stool for her. Volk and Fox take the two seats across from her, and I steal one from a nearby table, pulling it up to her side. Leaning down, I speak into Hannah’s ear over the music reverberating through the space. “I’ll be right back. I have to take a leak.”

She laughs. “You’ve really got a way with words, Ryan Logan.” Yeah, okay, definitely not the sexiest thing to whisper in a woman’s ear.

My boyfriend game could use some work.

I kiss the top of her head, because I can’t help myself, and head toward the bathroom.

When I return to our table, I spot King, and immediately, I’m not happy to see him.

He’s crowding Hannah’s chair, standing so close their thighs touch. He blankets her body with his own as he leans down to whisper something that makes her laugh.

Fox and Volk are sitting back, watching the whole thing unfold and giggling like schoolgirls. Of course, they didn’t clue King in, clearly amused by watching him unknowingly hit on my girl. And I’m one hundred percent sure that’s what he’s doing. I’ve seen him pick up enough women to recognize the signs a mile away.

A sick feeling seizes my stomach at the thought of them together.

I’ve never wanted to knock out one of my closest friends, but there’s a first time for everything, right?

I try to think logically. He hasn’t been around to know who she is to me. He’s not Knolls, though they share the same blond hair and blue eyes. The small similarities to her ex drag me back to six years ago, when Knolls was the one charming Hannah—the girl I was already half in love with. My steps falter, the memory freezing me in place, just like it did back then.

King reaches up as if to caress her face, and a sharp pang shoots through my chest at the sight. Hannah isn’t mine , I tell myself. But both my heart and my head continue to riot.

My feet unglue, and I move through the crowd at a clipped pace. The music is too loud to hear my footsteps, but if they could be heard, I’m certain most would describe them as stomping.

They’re so engrossed in their conversation, neither of them notices my approach.

As soon as I’m within arm’s reach, I grab Hannah’s chair with one hand and wrap my arm around her waist with the other, making sure I don’t startle her right off the seat. In one swift move, I yank the stool, pulling both her and the chair a good foot away from King’s orbit.

“Mine.” Shit, did I say that out loud? The word slips out without my permission, and I hope like hell no one heard it because they’d never let me live it down.

King’s eyes widen, and he raises his hands in a placating gesture of innocence.

Then my body begins to shake, or rather Hannah’s does… in a fit of laughter? I lean in further to confirm, and sure enough, she’s full-on belly laughing. The sound vibrates through my chest, where her back is flush against me. She folds over my arm, still wrapped around her waist, trying to control her laughter. She takes a couple of calming breaths but loses it again.

“Oh God, did you really just stomp over here and claim me like a caveman?” She wipes at her eyes. The rest of the group has now joined in, all taking turns making fun of me. Can you really blame them?

“Um, yeah, sorry about that… I didn’t mean to say that… at least not out loud… with an audience.” My voice softens as I speak, the last three words so quiet that only Hannah can hear them.

“Okay, I’ve clearly missed something here,” King says in confusion. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, no worries.” I reluctantly release Hannah and stand, pulling him in for a quick side hug. “Good to see you, man. I wish our reunion went a bit differently, but still, it’s good to have you back.” I turn toward Hannah, her laughter gone but replaced with an amused smile. “This is Hannah. She just moved back to Chicago and is living with me.”

“And she’s yours? Yeah, got it,” he says with a chuckle. He runs a hand through his shoulder-length messy hair and offers his other to Hannah. “Miles King. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I, um, apologize if I did.”

I grab the empty stool and slide it closer, bracketing her between my spread legs. We’ve definitely caught the attention of my friends—three sets of eyes watching our every move.

Hannah returns a friendly smile. “No worries, all good.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see money being exchanged. Volk places a couple of bills in Fox’s open palm with a huff of annoyance.

“You lost me one hundred, you idiot,” Volk says.

“Do I even want to know what the bet was?”

“Well, Volk thought you’d stay Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected, even with King over here trying to steal your girl. But even you have your limits.” Fox looks smug as he leans back in his chair.

“Why don’t you take your winnings and get us a round, moneybags,” I quip, but he waves my request off.

“Didn’t you hear, King? They’re dating,” Fox announces.

Oh, sure, now he tells him. I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak without making a fool of myself… again.

I’m still not sure if telling Fox and Volk about our fake dating was a smart move. I haven’t exactly filled Hannah in on that little detail, and the look she shoots me says, How do we play this?

Beats me, my returning gaze says.

I’ve never had an actual girlfriend, let alone a fake one. Are we pretending just for social media? Who are we really trying to convince in real life? It’s not like Knolls is here to witness us together. For the first time, I almost wish he were. At least then, I’d have an excuse to touch Hannah the way I’ve been dying to.

Practice , my brain reminds me.

Fox continues to eye us, almost as if he’s egging me on, daring me to prove his statement true.

I lean in, closing the small gap between us, and speak into her ear. “Want to practice?”

She shivers in my arms—I can’t seem to let her go. When she looks back, her eyes hold mine as she nods. My gaze drops to her mouth as she licks her lips. Her cheeks flush, and the moment between us lingers.

A wave of desire rushes through me, and I suppress a full-body shudder. Stop hesitating.

“If it wasn’t clear, I’m going to kiss you,” I whisper, pulling back enough to gauge her reaction. “Unless you tell me not to.”

Her head is still turned toward me, lips only inches away. Her shallow pants of breath are the only response I get. Taking that as my answer, I close the distance, pressing my lips to hers.

My intention is for it to be a chaste kiss. I don’t want to share this moment with an audience, which is ironic since that’s the point of this whole thing. But when Hannah gently bites my bottom lip, all my plans go out the window.

My dick strains painfully against the fly of my pants. She turns her body toward me, and I pull her impossibly closer as she grips my jacket tightly in her fists, just as desperate as I am. I’m so lost in her that I forget about our surroundings, until the sound of someone clearing their throat snaps me back to reality.

I pull back. Fox’s hoots and hollers filter in, along with Volk telling us to get a room. When I look over at my friends, they have shit-eating grins, except for King who’s trying to look anywhere but in our direction.

When my gaze returns to Hannah, we’re still so close that our noses touch. I speak against her mouth when I ask, “Want to get out of here?”

Her lips brush mine as she nods.