Page 20 of These Wicked Games (Wicked Sins #1)

“Is it the sold-out arenas? Is it the fact that since I got signed we’ve risen from the bottom to near second in our conference? Huh? The charity work? What have I done to deserve this?”

“Look, stop the dramatics—”

“Dramatics!” I boom. “He almost destroyed my career, then got drafted onto the team I was supposed to get on!”

“And now you’re here, with me.” He smiles at me, clapping my shoulder. “Everyone wins.”

“Coach!”

“You two need to learn to get along, so you’ll be spending every possible waking moment around each other if I can help it.

You’re rooming with him until you can both cut the shit and act like teammates.

Do you know how you looked the other night?

You were actively refusing to help your goalie.

It looked like weakness. It’s signaling to other teams that we have a massive problem, and they’re going to exploit it.

You’re both sharing rooms for the rest of the season.

Now go, get settled in. Maybe if you're real nice Andre will tuck you in. Read you a bedtime story. We have morning skate, then game time at night. Maybe you and Andre can tuck each other in.”

He leaves me stunned and standing in the lobby. “Sir? Would you like your keycard?” I glower, walking up to her, and she cowers . . . and okay, I feel like shit. I take the card. “Thank you. And sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She smiles. “I like The Princess Diaries too.” I laugh a little. “My boyfriend is a huge fan of yours.”

I open my bag, grabbing my tan and teal Otters hat. “Marker.”

“Wh-what.”

“Give me. A marker.” I wait as she blinks at me. “Please.” Hurrying to find a sharpie, she finds one and hands it to me. “Name.”

“Oh uh, Gise—I uh, I mean Jona—”

My eyes lift to hers. A soft blush spreads over her tan cheeks. “Your boyfriend a big fan?” My brow cocks. “You sure? ”

Her face flames. “Sorry, I just . . . I didn’t want to say anything. You’re incredible. And scary!” She glares and my lip twitches. “I just didn’t want to be weird.”

“Name, sweetheart.”

“My name is Giselle.” I uncap the pen. “Holy shit,” she squeals. “Thank you. Thank you, oh my god. My boyfriend is going to shit himself.”

“Big hockey fans?”

“Yes. I mean, I got him into it. We love watching the Otters games at home. He goes a lot with his friends now.”

“Where do you guys usually sit?”

“Oh, I don’t go. It’s something he does with his friends. Guys’ night.”

I pause with my hand on the hat. “You got him into it, though?”

She shrugs. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. It’s their thing.”

I don’t like that at all. Why wouldn’t a man want to bring his girlfriend to a game she loves? Guys’ night or no, it was her thing first. “What are you doing tomorrow night, Giselle?”

“Uh, wha—”

"You see that guy behind me in the suit talking into his phone like he’s the most important person in the room?

” She looks around me, nodding. “Hey, Rod.” I turn, watching our assistant coach come up to me.

“Get her tickets for the game tomorrow. Two of them. Behind our box.” He looks at me, confused. “Please.”

“Oh, uh yeah, Oli, no problem.”

“Holy shit. I’m dreaming. I can’t believe this. Holy shit.”

“One stipulation.” I smile up at her. “You take a friend. Not your boyfriend. You’ll be sitting right behind our box, okay? This is for you. ”

“I uh—okay. Yes! Oh my god, yes!” She blinks fast.

I nod, finishing up the hat. “There.” I hand it to her. “First goal tomorrow is for you, Giselle.”

Her hand flies to her mouth then she looks down at the hat. “Oh my god.” She smiles, looking at the writing.

For my biggest fan, Giselle.

Much love, Kuli.

“Thank you.”

I give her a fist bump, then take the room key, walking to the elevator and toward my fate.

I can’t fucking believe this bullshit. Does Andre even know?

I get my answer a moment later as I slide my key through the lock and walk in just as Andre’s peeling off his shirt. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Instead of answering him I throw my bag across the room, then slam the door closed and walk to room two thirty-two. I knock loudly, waiting for Grey to open up. “What, Oli?” he sighs against the door. Or at least I assume that big thud was his forehead.

“Oh, you fucking knew, you prick!”

“I knew what, Oli?”

“What’s going on?” I hear Atlas muffled from behind this piece of wood that’s the only thing keeping me from strangling my best friends. “Oh shit, he found out who he’s rooming with, huh.”

“You both knew?!” I hear a beep, not waiting for them to open the door before I push my way in and drop onto a bed. “Traitors.”

“I just found out.” Atlas puts his hands up.

“I agree with Coach,” Grey says, unpacking his bag. “You and Andre need to get along. Just learn to swallow your hatred, for us, alright? Whether you like it or not he’s here. This is happening. Give him a shot, he may surprise you.”

“The only surprising thing will be if I don’t choke him. You know what he did to me.” Grey shakes his head, taking clothes out of his suitcase. “Are you saying I’m lying?”

“Never,” he grinds out. “It’s just, who knows what happened, okay?

And maybe he did, alright, so we don’t have to like him, but he’s not going anywhere near your tests now, right?

We just need both of you to come to some kind of agreement, some sort of truce, because our games have been shit and we all know why. ”

“Because Andre is a shitty goalie.” Even as I say it, I know it’s not true.

“Because you’re more preoccupied with avoiding him then helping him. Stop letting it distract you. We have a cup to win. You don’t need to be friends, but you need to get it together.”

“I agree,” Atlas says.

“Of course you do, kiss ass.” My jaw clenches.

Grey sighs, clapping my shoulder. “Grow up, Oli. It’s game time.”