My Lucky #13 (Hockey Hotties)

by Piper Rayne

  We both turn, and one of the kids from a field trip has his finger pointed right at Aiden. He turns to me and has to decide what to do in a split second. Deny the kid and say he’s wrong, or admit it’s him and be bombarded. Since he has to be at warmups soon, we don’t have a ton of time.

  “Sorry,” he says to me and walks over to the kid.

  Soon all the kids are circled around, and I watch from the sidelines, far enough away so no one will pay me any attention. But I do pull out my phone and snap a few pictures to put on his Instagram account.

  Aiden’s patient, even when a teacher offers him a Sharpie so he can sign everything from brown paper lunch bags to the shirts the kids are wearing. The boys and girls ask him questions as though he’s a visitor in their class.

  “That goal you scored the other night was amazing. How do you do that?” one boy asks.

  Aiden glances back to check on me, and I wave for him to continue. I’m fine. Watching him with the kids stirs a feeling inside my stomach I can’t explain. Before meeting Aiden, I didn’t know much about hockey. At least not hockey players. Doing research after I took Aiden on as a client, I found out a few things about Aiden. He was rarely ever photographed outside practices, games, and any official team duties like meeting with fans or charitable efforts. He was known to keep his head down and play the game without a lot of drama off the ice. There’s also talk about him being one of the best centers the game has ever seen and will more than likely hit the Hall of Fame at some point.

  I think that’s what spurred me to agree to the drink throwing. Someone deemed one of the best at his game shouldn’t go down without a fight. And if he thought me throwing a drink was going to make a difference, well, might as well give it a shot.

  “What superstitions do you have?” a little girl asks.

  “Yeah, do you eat something special before a game?” a boy chimes in.

  “Do you wear your socks for the entire season without washing them?” another kid blurts out.

  “Gross!” A group of girls make faces as if that’s the most disgusting thing they’ve ever heard.

  Again, Aiden looks back at me before crouching and whispering to them. All the kids make a sound like they can’t believe it, then their eyes are on me. I don’t even want to know.

  “Come on, kids, we need to get going. Thank Mr. Drake for being so nice and stopping to talk to us today.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Drake,” the kids say in unison.

  But before they leave, the teacher stops and Aiden jots down something on a piece of paper and hands it to her. She eyes him with appreciation and thanks him one more time.

  Coming back over to me, Aiden gets stopped by a few people asking for selfies now that he’s been outed. Once he’s in the clear, he meets me, placing his hands on either side of the cement wall behind me.

  “Careful, you’re getting close there,” I say.

  “I’m not touching you,” he whispers, his breath on my neck.

  “That was sweet of you. What did the teacher want?”

  “Jealous?”

  “No.” And I’m not jealous. Okay, slightly, but I’m not worried at all.

  “She wondered if I’d be willing to come in and talk at the school. Maybe bring some other players.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “I should probably do more of that.”

  I shrug. “What did you tell those kids when they asked about your superstitions?”

  He chuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. “I told them you’re my lucky charm. That ever since I met you, I’ve been having some great games.”

  I shake my head. “No white wine?”

  “Ah, they’re little. Didn’t want them stealing their mom’s wine and throwing it in each other’s faces.”

  I rest my palm on his cheek, unable to not be affectionate with him.

  “Note that you’re touching me.”

  “I know. I can’t help it. You’re amazing. You win the bet.”

  “What can I say? I’m quite the catch.”

  His tone is joking, and I wonder if he really doesn’t realize how great of a catch he is. Any girl would be lucky to have him, and here I am, the lucky girl. I need to calm my overzealous brain and remember he chose me, end of story.

  “Aiden,” someone calls.

  We both look, only to be surprised by the flash of a camera.

  “Good luck tonight,” the person says. They look like an average Joe, not a reporter or anything.

  I ask quietly, “Do people really take your picture without asking?”

  He nods. “Unfortunately, yes. Come on, I forgot we were in public. Let’s get you out of here.”

  We head to a taxi and climb in to go have some of the deep-dish pizza Chicago is known for. The taxi driver asks where to and we tell him to take us to his favorite pizza place. Five minutes later, we’re outside Lou Malnati’s. An hour later, I have no idea how Aiden is going to skate if his stomach feels anything like mine.

  “That was a lot,” I say.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna be slow on my skates tonight.”

  Once we get back to the hotel, Aiden’s still able to do some pre-warmup workouts if you catch my drift. And I have to say—it didn’t affect his performance at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Aiden

  “Drake!” Coach Vittner yells from his temporary office in the Chicago locker room.

  We won, so I have no idea why he sounds so pissed.

  I walk in already dressed in my suit because my girl is waiting on me. “What’s up, Coach?”

  “Game schedule change. We’ve got our make-up game for when the wildfires canceled the one in California, so the team is flying out tomorrow morning for a game in two nights. I know you had plans to go to your parents’, so I’m allowing you to fly in on game day since you’ve been on point lately. But.” He holds up his hands. “You better be there and ready to play. Do you understand?”

  This puts a huge crimp in my plans. Saige and I were going to stay with my parents for a few days before she has to meet up with a basketball player in Milwaukee. With this change in plans, she’ll have to miss my game in California. Fuck. I’ve obviously played without her there before—she didn’t start coming until I gave her tickets—so I guess as long as we do the drink throwing before I leave, we should be good. It’ll still be game day.

  “What are you doing? Figuring out some Einstein equation? Did you hear me?” Coach says.

  I nod. “Yes. Just thinking about the logistics, Coach. I’ll be there and ready.”

  “Good. Now in other news…” He walks by me and shuts the door. Either because Ford is singing again or because the celebration hasn’t stopped. “Gerhardt called me into his office before we headed here.”

  “And?”

  “We’re a couple weeks shy of trade deadline. He didn’t say anything about a trade, but the fact that you haven’t seen the psychologist yet is a problem for him. Get your ass into her office. I’ve told him that you’re harboring some sort of problems from your childhood, but that I’d work on you. You’re one of the only two players left to see her.”

  “Who’s the other?” I assume he’ll say Ford, because he was adamant about it before.

  “You and Petrov. Talk to him too. This isn’t optional for you boys.”

  Ford went to see the psychologist? I’m shocked.

  “As soon as we’re back, I’ll make my appointment.” If what I need to do to stay on this team is have a counseling session, I’ll do it.

  “Take Petrov with you. Even if you have to drag him.”

  “Coach?” I laugh, and he shakes his head.

  “I don’t need any more problems on my roster. We’re finally in a great position and if something happens and you get traded, I might as well call this season over. I’m old, Drake. I want the Cup.”

  I stand. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  “See that you do. Have a good time with your family, but be ready to play. I see that
blonde hanging around… don’t let it detour you away from the big picture.”

  “It… she won’t.”

  “Now leave. I need to call in Tweetie about his shitty penalty this evening.”

  I walk out of Coach’s office and head back into the locker room to grab my bags. Maksim is there at his locker, still undressing.

  “Get your ass on that psychologist’s couch,” I tell him.

  “Fuck that. I’m not doing that shit.”

  “We all have to. So far it’s just you and me who haven’t been. The captain and the assistant haven’t seen her yet and we’re supposed to represent for the team.”

  He turns around again in just his jockstrap. I don’t get it. The man isn’t shy in the least. “I’m not going.”

  “You will when I drag you.”

  Shit, maybe Coach is right and I will have to physically drag him.

  “Have fun with your family and having them meet Saige. Don’t worry about me.” His blue eyes sparkle with mischief.

  I point at him. “You’re going.”

  “Don’t eat too much cheese. It will bung you up and you won’t be able to skate!” he calls and I flip him off, leaving the locker room.

  Saige and I pack up and leave that night since we’ll now have limited time with my family. We’ve decided to go stay at my parents’ house.

  “Did you call them to tell them we’re coming?” she asks when we pull up in front of my parents’ house and it looks like no one is home.

  “They own a bar, so they’re not even home yet.” I glance at the time on the dash of our rental. “But they’ll be here shortly. Gives you some time to get comfortable.”

  I park on the side of the driveway so my parents can pull into the garage. We grab our bags and I lead us into the house. It smells the same as it always does—the same candle my mom’s been burning for years, vanilla and lilac—and it brings me back to my youth.

  Our house is more country style than one would think after meeting my parents. And not that modern farmhouse decor, but pure country, like blue-and-white gingham, lace, doilies, and a lot of wood. Pictures of my sister and me from all ages line the stairway that creaks from the age of the house.

  My parents don’t have a ton of money, but they never let us go without anything either. And now that I do have money, they won’t let me spend any of it on them.

  “Come on, let’s get our bags in the room.”

  “Will they be okay with us sleeping together?” She dodges the one deer my dad ever shot when he went hunting years ago. After that, he was only a fishing guy.

  “We’re adults. They’ll be fine. One more flight.” I open the door to reach my room that’s actually the attic.

  We climb the stairs and I see that nothing has changed. My full-size bed with a blue comforter still sits in the center of the space. Posters of hockey greats like Gretzky, Hull, Jagr, Lemieux, and Howe line the walls. Trophies and pucks with dates written on them fill the shelves my dad installed.

  “So this is Aiden Drake’s childhood bedroom, huh?” Saige sits on the bed and looks around. “Did you lose your virginity in here?”

  “No.” I stand by my small childhood desk. Seeing her on my bed is tempting, but my parents will be home soon and that’s not exactly the first impression I want to give of Saige.

  “I would’ve thought all the girls were hot for you.”

  I take a picture off the corkboard behind me and toss it to her on the bed. “This was me at sixteen.” I was tall, lanky, wore braces, and had acne.

  “You were cute.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “I would’ve let you bring me up here.” She leans back on her elbows and tilts her head as an invitation.

  Oh, fuck it. I jump on the bed and she laughs as I climb over her. The bed squeaks like crazy and I realize this won’t be good for tonight.

  “Took you long enough.” She giggles.

  “I was respecting you.”

  “That ship sailed when you poured chocolate sauce on me and licked it off three nights ago.”

  I laugh and my lips find hers. Things between us don’t stay PG for long because I’m grinding my hard-on into her core and she’s moaning and tugging at my shirt to take it off. Maybe make-out sessions are out for us now.

  Lights shine in my window and I draw the kiss to a close. “There’s my parents.”

  She pushes me off her and I tumble to the floor since it’s only a full-size bed.

  “Oh jeez.” She finger-combs her hair, pulling her shirt down.

  Where’d the woman who was halfway to stripping me go?

  I get up off the floor and hold out my hand. “Don’t hold anything they say against me.”

  “That’s scary and cryptic,” she says with a smile.

  I lead her down the two flights of stairs, and when we enter the kitchen, my parents are just coming in through the garage.

  “Hey, Mom. Dad.”

  Although they knew I was coming, they weren’t expecting me so soon and they both smile.

  “Hey, Aid,” my dad says and takes off his jacket.

  “How are you, sweetie? Hell of a game tonight.” Mom hugs me. “Sorry for the smell. Bar life.”

  I forgot how much they smell when they get home.

  My mom waits patiently, looking at Saige. Since my dad has yet to return from the bathroom, I figure I’ll introduce them separately.

  “Mom, this is Saige. Saige, this is the woman who raised me. Any problems, talk to her.”

  My mom laughs and swats at my arm. She holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Saige, and he’s right, if he doesn’t treat you right, I’m your first call. I’ll put him in his place.” She winks.

  “Nice to meet you, and he’s been nothing but a gentleman.”

  “I’m going to take a quick shower and get this gross smell off me. Are you guys hungry? I have pizzas in the freezer, or find whatever you want.” My mom touches Saige’s upper arm as she leaves the room. “Make yourself at home.”

  Saige smiles. I’m glad they seem to like one another, even if they have only spent a total of two minutes in the same room together.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask. We didn’t eat after the game and I’m starving, so I head to the freezer and pull out two pizzas.

  “Maybe a little.”

  I preheat the oven and take the pizzas out of the plastic.

  “Okay, better. I swear I can never take a shit in private.” My dad comes out of the bathroom, looking down and adjusting his belt.

  “Dad,” I say quickly.

  He looks up. “Whoops. Sorry. Hi, Saige, we’ve heard nothing about you but your name, but that’s no surprise. Aiden could’ve been a monk. Thank goodness he’s got a hockey career because he wouldn’t make it as a bartender.” My dad shakes Saige’s hand.

  “Hi, Mr. Drake,” she says.

  “Mr. Drake? My dad isn’t here. It’s Phil.”

  “Okay, Phil.”

  My dad takes notice of the frozen pizzas on the counter. “Pizza? I could’ve had them prepare you something at the bar.”

  “I should’ve stopped there on the way into town,” I say.

  “Great game tonight. Still so impressive. Can you believe this guy?” He puts his hand on my neck and squeezes. “Skating laps around me at only ten. I might not have been a pro, but I did play in high school.”

  “Dad was a goalie,” I tell her.

  “I knew when he was twelve and I couldn’t block his shots anymore that this kid had something.” He squeezes my neck again and my shoulders scrunch up.

  No one could ever say my parents aren’t proud of me. They’ve always been my biggest cheerleaders.

  “Saige was a figure skater,” I say.

  My dad’s hand leaves my neck, and he stares at her, looking impressed. “I have no idea how you people jump like that and expect to land on the ice.”

  Saige laughs. “They start you young when you have no fear.”

  “So what else? Where are
you from?” My dad leans back against the counter.

  “Don’t you want to shower?” I ask my dad.

  “Do you mind the smell of stale beer and cigarettes, Saige?”

  “Like she’d say no,” I say.

  Saige smiles brightly. “I’m fine.”

  “Thank you.” Dad sits at the table and pulls out the paper. He’s the only guy I know who reads the paper after midnight. “Your sister and everyone is coming over for brunch tomorrow.”

  I look at Saige. “We don’t do breakfast because Mom and Dad sleep in.”

  “It’s not sleeping in. It’s our sleep schedule. If we were like everyone else our age, we’d be asleep for five hours by now and up with the roosters.”

  I smile. A year ago, I asked my parents if I could retire them or at least get help at the bar so they’d be able to live more normal lives. But they both declined, adamant that my money is my money. No matter how much I fought to tell them I’d never be where I was without them, they fought back that helping me is their job as parents. I’m not over the idea of retiring them though.

  “Fair enough.” The oven beeps and I place the frozen pizzas inside.

  “Phil, get your lazy ass up and take a shower,” my mom says upon her return. “Saige doesn’t want to smell liquor and cigarettes the entire night, do you, sweetie?”

  “She said it was fine,” Dad argues back.

  “What’s she gonna say? She wants to please you.”

  “Please me?” Dad asks, already rising from the chair and putting down his reading glasses. “No worries there. Any woman willing to be with my son gets points in my book. He’s hard to handle, am I right?”

  Saige laughs and shakes her head. “He’s great.”

  I catch my mom admiring the way Saige and I look at one another, so I go over and tuck my mother under my arm, kissing the top of her head.

  “Go shower, Phil!” my mom yells.

  “I was just admiring the scene. A little sappy, but it’s cute.” My dad winks at Saige and disappears upstairs.

  I’ll take sappy but cute. Beats lonely and alone any day.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven