Something So Irresistible (Something So 3)

“Good night to you, too, asshole.”

Chapter Eight

Max

What the fuck was she still doing in the lobby? When I walked out of the elevator, I was shocked but ignored her by walking by her.

We landed in Philly earlier than I thought and I had my guy bring me his famous cheesesteak. It’s tradition and after the start of the season, I don’t fuck with tradition.

The whole fucking game I made myself look everywhere but at the lodge I knew she was in. I thought the minute I skated on the ice I would shut off my head and get in the zone like I always do, but then she’s there, by the boards with Matthew’s kids cheering on the team. I couldn’t avoid it when I skated to her side and little Cooper knocked on the glass calling my name, and then Franny fucking burying herself in Allison’s neck. I kept chanting in my head, she hates you and thinks you’re trailer park scum. And it worked. Well, it worked at the beginning till I scored that goal and sat down looking around, my eyes finding her standing up smiling and cheering. Cheering for the team no doubt. I took the bottle, spraying water on my face, and blocking her out. I did my normal routine after the game, except this time the reports were there asking questions about me saving ‘a girl’ then it got switched to how fast I’m skating this season. I answered everyone and then quickly showered and walked out and onto the bus, and because I was the last on, the only seat left was right across from her. I put my earphones in and watched highlights of the game. Seeing if maybe I could clean up some parts of my play. Then the bus stopped and I knew it wasn’t a complete stop, but Allison stood up and I knew the bus was going to move. My hands flew out before I even had a chance to think about it. I’m pretty sure she is going to have fingertip bruises tomorrow because I was squeezing so hard. But just like that, in a blink of an eye, it was over and I dropped my hand so fast you would think someone told me she was covered in acid.

I made sure I was one of the first in the plane heading straight to the back, even though I usually sit in the front so I can be the first one off. Not tonight. Then when the hotel handed out the keys I was the first one to claim a room, going upstairs and dumping everything, then getting a text from Tony, the sub guy.

Now I’m standing in the elevator with a cold hoagie and looking straight ahead. The elevator doors open and I go straight for my door. She isn’t my concern. It isn’t my problem that she can’t find her room. Isn’t my problem that she has no idea where she is going. Nope. I scan my card and see her in my peripheral vision. She is right next door. My door closes before she even gets into hers. What the fuck is going on with me?

I toss the hoagie on the bed, pulling off my tie, and undressing. I think about anything but her. I even think about the fucking weather. By the time I slide under the sheets and unwrap the hoagie, it’s cold, soggy, and just tastes bitter. I toss it aside and close the lights, leaving the shade open, having the night light come in. I wait for sleep to come and claim me and it does, but she has blue eyes when it does.

The road trip goes off without a hitch. We win the game on the road, but lose the one the next day, so the ride home is a somber one. No one really talks, but everyone is happy to get back to their own bed. I walk off the plane, getting into my car, and making my way back home.

The phone rings when I’m a block away from home. I see it’s Denise.

“Hey,” I say as soon as the Bluetooth connects me.

“Hey, yourself. I take it you just got back?” she says to me and I hear papers being shuffled in the background.

“Yeah, I just landed five minutes ago. My body is feeling the pain today, must have been that corner hit from Reddick.” I park in my parking space.

“I saw that hit and winced a little. How many times I gotta say don’t go into the corner?” She laughs and so do I. You can’t avoid the corners or you’re known as a little bitch pansy. “Anyway, I’m calling to say I got the tickets to opening game. Should I ask how you scored twenty tickets?”

I laugh. “I called in a couple of favors.” And I am not lying. I called everyone that I could think of. Plus, I asked a couple of the rookies to donate to a good cause. “You have three weeks to give them away,” I say, grabbing my bag, switching off my Bluetooth, and picking up my cell.