Page 2 of Whirlwind (Seattle Blades #4)

“Dude porcupines pee on their women to get them in the mood,” Damian counters.

“Hey, don’t knock it ’til you try it,” I say.

They all laugh. Zan and Damian don’t know the details of my sex life; they just know it’s non-existent. And, hell, I sure hope they know me well enough to know golden showers would be a hard limit.

The bar is lit with soft amber lighting, decorated in plush velvet jewel tones, and the music is bluesy. It’s a much cozier vibe than I’d expected. Minus the raucous hockey team laughing it up. That’s par for the course with this bunch, though.

I say hello to a few of the people I know well enough, and grab myself an Old Fashioned before finding a place to be comfortable.

The venue is booked for a private event; everyone here is related to the team in some way.

I recognize a few people from my day at the office; we exchange friendly waves.

“Hey, Kit Kat,” Hugo Blom says, falling into the seat next to me. “What are you doing over here by yourself?”

He’s a big guy. Yet, not as big as many of the other players. That surprised me when I first met him. I had this notion that all goalies must be these giants standing between the net and a team full of guys line-driving hard-as-hell pucks at it. Truth is, they need to be more agile than large.

Hugo is also handsome, clean cut with freckles and dimples.

More than all that, he’s a big cinnamon roll of a man.

The first to offer a hug, the one who is always looking to make sure everyone is included, well fed, and happy in their situation.

I’m not surprised that he found me sitting here by myself.

“Just unwinding the day’s tension,” I tell him. “Happy birthday, buddy.”

“Thanks,” he says with a grin the size you’d see on a kid at Christmas. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“They are! I got myself a new fancy gig with a big-time NHL team.”

“Yes, you did, and I know you deserved it. But I meant, I heard you bought a house.”

“Oh, I did do that. Which means, this will probably be the last time you see me for a while, since all my money is going to my tiny little shoebox of a house. I move in this weekend.”

My expectation when I signed the closing documents to purchase my house was that I would be anxious about committing to a thirty-year mortgage payment. Instead, I loved that it cemented me into a life here in the city I’ve come to call home.

“Ah, you’re not supposed to break a guy’s heart on his birthday, Kit Kat. We hardly see you as it is.”

“What heart are we talking about here?” I tease.

“Ouch!” He laughs. “Seriously, though, congratulations. Tiny or not, it’s a big deal.”

“I agree. Plus, it has a peekaboo view of Lake Union, which makes the price tag slightly easier to swallow.”

“It’s an adorable house,” Willa says, sliding into the booth with us. “So much natural light and in a great neighborhood.”

“That’s good,” Hugo says. “Seasonal Affective Disorder is rampant around these parts, so natural light helps.”

“I always forget you’re just one of the girls, Blom,” Cillian says, walking up behind the goalie and slapping him on the shoulder.

Cillian is Willa’s brother-in-law. Until Willa hooked up with Zander and Damian, Cill was the closest thing to a brother I’d ever known. Now, I have three sort of brothers.

For a girl with no real blood family, it can be overwhelming. It’s also damn nice when I sit back and enjoy it.

“I’ve been taking advice from Letty. You know he says you get more women when you’re in touch with your feminine side,” he says, rubbing at the back of his neck, almost as if he’s embarrassed to be admitting such a thing.

“He’s not wrong,” I agree. “This whole male loneliness epidemic nonsense is just assholes who can’t learn to be nice to women, if you ask me.”

“Then what’s it going to take to get you to agree to a date with a nice guy like me? Want me to come decorate your new house with you?”

“Oh, hell no.” I laugh. “I plan on being extremely particular about my décor.”

“When you say particular, do you mean girly?”

“That question only proves how little you know about Kit,” Willa tells him.

“What, no pink sofa and macrame plant hangers?”

“No, she’s more likely to have a gaming chair than a sofa,” Willa answers him. “Though, I can see you hanging a plant or two in macrame.”

“Gaming chairs are a bitch to nap in, though,” I say. “I’ll probably have to find a way to fit both of them in.”

“What games do you play?”

“Any one that lets me shoot a gun or kill a dragon.”

“ Call of Duty ?”

“No. Not anymore. There are far too many jerks there who think a woman is only good for making sandwiches,” I say, crinkling my nose in disgust. It’s not easy being a girl gamer in online communities. Mostly, I can hold my own with them, but sometimes, it simply gets to be more work than value.

“You ever want to play it again; you join up with me and my boys.”

“Ah, you gonna protect me, big guy?”

“I would if you’d ever give me the chance, Kit Kat.” He rises from his chair and moves to chat with some of the other guys.

“That guy has a big crush on you,” Willa says.

“He has a big crush on lots of women, I suspect.”

“You’re not wrong there, Kit,” Cillian says. “I think he’s still hung up on that movie star friend of Odette’s, too.”

“Can’t blame him; Britton Macy is gorgeous.” The starlet filmed a movie here not too long ago, and was a permanent fixture not only in the Blades’ social events, but Hugo’s bed, as well.

“So are you,” Willa says with a smile before turning to her brother-in-law. “Where’s my sister at?”

“She wasn’t feeling too hot; she stayed home with Sadie,” Cillian answers.

“Why didn’t she call me?”

“She didn’t want you to mother hen her instead of coming out with your crew and having a good time. So,” he says, tapping her on the nose. “Have a good time. She’s okay. You know if it was something serious, I’d be home with her.”

“Maybe she’s queasy because her ex is joining the team,” Letty, another of the players, says, from a couple feet away.

“Wait, what?” Willa asks.

“We made a trade for Murphy, today,” Cillian says. “He’ll be here as soon as his visa shit clears.”

“Oh, damn,” I say. “Bet you don’t love that.”

Tyson Murphy is the only other man Isla ever gave a shot. And it was only when she and Cillian were on the outs for a few years. Tyson wanted more with her, but her heart was never fully available. Not since she gave it to Cillian at sixteen years old.

I knew Tyson before I knew Cillian. Truth be told, I was rooting for him to win her heart. Even for a while after Cillian came back into her life. She picked the right man for her; I know that now. I’ve seen how much he loves her and the lengths he’ll go for his family.

It’s not like I knew the guy well or anything.

But, from what little I saw, Tyson was a good man, too.

He was great with Isla’s daughter. I felt bad for him.

Especially because he plays against Cillian.

He can’t avoid the situation altogether.

The NHL is a small family; they run into each other more than probably any of them would like. Now, it’s going to be so much worse.

“I don’t love it for me on a personal level, no. It’s a great move for the team, though.”

“Sadie is going to be excited, she loved Tyson,” Willa says.

“You don’t need to remind me that my daughter had his hockey memorabilia before she had any of mine,” he says with an exaggerated pout.

Cillian didn’t know he had a daughter with Isla until Sadie was a toddler. Over the years, there have been some huge misunderstandings between the two of them. As well as mistrust and a healthy dose of postpartum depression. Well, and a crazed groupie woman who didn’t understand consent.

That’s all in their rearview mirror, now. Other than Willa’s parents, I don’t know of a more solid couple than Isla and Cillian Wylder. If I were looking to have a relationship of my own, I’d want one as honest as theirs. That’s not in the cards for me, perhaps.

Maybe twenty-seven is too young to be saying that. When you’ve gone as long as I have with little to no interest in developing a romantic relationship, it’s easy to convince yourself it isn’t part of your future.

And, really, that’s okay. I’ve seen enough awful relationships to understand that not everyone is meant to be in one. Plus, I’m happy. I’m fulfilled. I have a career, friends, and a good life.

A man would probably only bring drama and ruin my carefully curated vibe. Another thing I’d like to take a hard pass on. New things often trip me up; I’m not conducive to change as a perpetual overthinker who rides through life with general anxiety and is prone to occasional emotional meltdowns.

“Okay, this is veering down a road that leads to a much sadder night than I had planned,” I say. “Get your ass up out of that chair, Cill. I want to dance with somebody,” I sing, like I’m an eighties pop singer.

“I don’t know how to dance to…who is this?”

“Etta James,” I say. “Come on, I’ll teach you some new tricks to take home to your pretty wife.”

“How do you know everything ?” He stands and lets me drag him to the small area that is clear of tables. It’s a question he teases me with often. A favorite game of his daughter’s is to ask me for facts on random items, just to see what I know.

One day, it’s pineapples, the next, it might be the Hubble telescope or raccoons. She tries her hardest to stump me, and sometimes, she manages. But that’s what we have smartphones for—interesting information is never far away.

“My grandma used to say I was a sponge for information. I guess I still am. Add an overactive attention span to it and you end up speeding from one subject to another. Plus, I don’t sleep much, and there’s the whole ADHD diagnosis.”

“I don’t know how you do it. I still take naps nearly every day.”

“I like a good nap,” I say, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his hip, so I can guide him to move. “But it’s not like I have the rigorous schedule of a star NHL player. I sit at a desk all day.”

“I suppose that could make a difference.” He’s stiff as a board as I lead him through some steps.

“How do you move so well on the ice and not at all on the dance floor?” Laughter erupts behind me as the guys watch. Cillian flips them off before returning his attention to me.

“You should have chosen me, darling,” Letty says. “I’ve got moves like Jagger!”

“Oh my God, he did not just say that,” I whisper.

“You can’t be surprised.” Cillian laughs.

“No, I’m not. I guess I just needed the reminder. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve gotten to hang out with the team.”

“You think that might change now that you’re a part of the team?”

“I’m a number cruncher in the office. It’s not like I’m on the bench with you guys.”

“Still,” he says with a grin. “You’ll be around more. It’ll be nice to see your face.”

“Thanks, it will be nice to be part of a team, now, instead of just another faceless body in a building full of cubicles.” Moving my other hand to his waist, I try to get him to sway better. “Besides, you need more lessons. You’re fucking hopeless, Wylder.”