Pike (Sin City Saints Hockey 2)

Indie is part of it, but I’m not admitting that to Kingston. I like that she enjoys talking to me. It’s not about public appearances or all-expenses-paid shopping trips with her. She’s the first woman I’ve ever met that I think would like me just as much if I were a mechanic or a cop.

The Bellagio isn’t in full swing yet, so once we’ve got our stacks of chips, we’re easily able to sit down next to each other at a table.

I get into a zone, totally focused on the cards. Kingston keeps the drinks flowing, tipping the waitress generously so she keeps a close eye on us. My stacks of chips are getting higher, and I’ve got a pretty good buzz starting. I’m pulled from the moment by the vibration of my phone in my pocket. I take it out and look at the screen.

Indie.

I start racking my chips as I answer her call.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Hi, I’m good. Are you busy?”

“Not at all.”

I pass the dealer a chip as a tip and get up from the table, taking my racked chips with me. Kingston is scowling at me, but I ignore him.

“It sounds like you’re busy,” Indie says.

“I’m at the Bellagio. I was playing blackjack but I finished a little bit ago.”

“Oh, I can just talk to you tomorrow.”

I find a fairly quiet corner and lean my back against the wall. “No, I’m good. Tell me about your day.”

There’s a smile in her voice as she says, “I went to Just Brew It.”

“How was that?”

She laughs. “The look on Virgil’s face when I walked in there in a power suit and heels, and he had to ask me for my order, was very gratifying.”

“I hope you didn’t tip him.”

“I tipped Angie, because she made my drink.”

“That a girl.”

“So tell me something about your day,” she says.

I picture her in jammies—shorts and a tank top, face freshly washed and teeth freshly brushed, as she gets comfy in bed while we talk. She’s a natural beauty, and thinking about her like that turns me on. If only I were there beside her so I could do something about it.

I put those thoughts aside, though, and keep the conversation light.

“I had to get some photos taken and some video footage done at the arena today for the PR department,” I say. “And one of my teammates let his wife cut his hair and it looks like she did it with her eyes closed.”

Indie laughs, and I can’t help but curve my lips up in a smile. Her laugh is sexy.

“Is it really that bad?” she asks.

“Worse. She couldn’t get the front of it right, so she kept trimming off more and more to make it even, and he has like a millimeter of hair left there. But he’s a badass Ukrainian so we all had to laugh about it behind his back or he might have punched us.”

“Ukrainian? That’s pretty cool. What’s his name?”

“Marko.” I grin. “And believe me when I say dude is not amused when we play the game Marco Polo at pool parties.”

“Poor guy,” she says, but there’s amusement in her tone.

“We’re still on for noon tomorrow, right?”

I had my cleaning lady come today instead of Friday, her usual day, so everything would look its best for Indie’s visit. My bed is made, and I’ll just sleep on the couch tonight so I don’t mess it up.

“Yes, at noon. Did you get a chance to look at the pictures I emailed you?”

“No, but I will.”

“Thanks. That helps me get an idea of what you like before we get started.”

A couple of women, obviously drunk, stumble past me, one of them doing a double take when she sees me. She opens her mouth and uses her hand to mimic giving a blow job, and I look away, hoping she’ll get the hint.

“Hey baby, is your dick pierced, too?” she calls. “I’ll polish that ring ’til it shines!”

“Fuck off,” I say shortly as she advances closer to me.

“Do you need to go?” Indie asks.

“No, sorry. Just some obnoxious drunk people in the casino.”

“Your loss!” The drunk woman turns around and stumbles after her friend.

After a couple seconds of silence, Indie says, “I should have some great news to share with you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, what?”

“I don’t want to jinx it by telling you now.” I hear her yawning, though it sounds like she’s covering the phone so I don’t hear it. “I need to go to bed.”

“Okay. So I’ll see you tomorrow at noon?”

“I’ll be there. Good night.”

“Night, Indie.”

When I get back to the blackjack table, there’s a blond woman in the seat I vacated next to Kingston.

“There he is,” Kingston says, turning my way. “This is my buddy Pike. Pike, this is Sherry. She and her twin sister are here celebrating their twenty-second birthday.”