Victor: A Chicago Blaze Hockey Romance

by Brenda Rothert

  “Watch yourself, asshole,” I say with a scowl.

  “I’m just sitting here. You’re the one who ran into me.”

  “I wasn’t moving…was I?”

  He shakes his head and turns away. Maybe I am a little drunk.

  When I get back to the table, I down about half the amber-colored liquid that’s left in my glass before taking my seat. I pick up my phone, hoping Lindy’s done having a drink with Lyin’ Ryan. I gave him that nickname in my head a few beers ago, and I’m pretty sure it’s gonna stick when I’m sober.

  Bryan: We need to meet tonight.

  “Fuck.” I slam the phone on the table and lift my beer for another drink.

  A message from that asshole is the last thing I needed tonight. I’m drunk enough to tell him to fuck off, damn the consequences.

  Anton grabs my glass when it’s halfway to my mouth.

  “Put the drink down and tell me what the hell’s going on with you.”

  Reluctantly, I set down my glass. “I’m fine.”

  He glares at me. “Look, I’m not much into long conversations. So I repeat—what’s going on with you?”

  “Lindy’s out on a date with Lyin’ Ryan.” I glare back at him. “Now let go of my beer, asshole.”

  He doesn’t.

  “What do you care if she’s on a date?”

  My blood pressure starts rising again. “She’s too nice and sweet for him. He’s gonna take advantage of her.”

  “Really? How do you know?”

  I point at my lap. “Because I have a dick.”

  “Have you taken advantage of her?”

  “No.”

  “So it’s not that you don’t want any other guy to have her, just not this guy? You’ve got something against him?”

  I shrug. “Any other guy would take advantage of her, too.”

  Anton gives me a look of frustration. “Go find a woman to fuck. This place is full of ‘em.”

  “No.” I try to push his hand away from my beer.

  My phone lights up with a text notification and I snatch it up before Anton can turn to look at it.

  Lindy: Just got home. Didn’t get murdered.

  I exhale hard, my shoulders sagging with relief. I have so many questions, but the biggest one has already been answered. No, she didn’t go home with him.

  “Keep the beer,” I tell Anton. “I can go home now.”

  “You’re not driving. I’ll take you.”

  “I’ll take an Uber.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  I need sleep. Tomorrow’s a busy day. I have to drill with our offensive coach in the morning, then there’s pregame skate, then a VIP meet and greet event before our home game.

  While I wait for my ride home, I text Lindy.

  Me: Good. Are you going out with him again?

  Lindy: Maybe. Talk tomorrow? I’m almost asleep on my feet.

  When I see her response, I want to throw my phone into oncoming traffic and watch it get run over and smashed to bits.

  I don’t, though. Even drunk, I’m logical enough to know I don’t have time to buy a new phone tomorrow.

  Me: Okay. Goodnight.

  My Uber is approaching now. As I wait for the driver to pull up to the curb, I text Bryan back, because ignoring him will only get me into more trouble.

  Me: Not tonight. Tomorrow night late or the next day.

  Today sucked enough without having to deal with that bastard. I power down my phone and heft myself into the Uber, wondering on the ride home what Lindy wore on her date with Lyin’ Ryan.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lindy

  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it’s like a hot guy buffet out there. A smorgasbord with nothing but hunks of hockey-playing man meat.” Ari fans herself as we place drinks onto our trays.

  I smile. “Down, girl. You’ve seen the players before.”

  “Not like this! They’re all out there looking casual and fuckable in those hockey pants. They should hold these events before games every time.”

  “Ladies,” Bruce calls out from the other side of the room. “Can I interest you in actually working today?”

  “On our way, bossman.” Ari flashes him a smile as she picks up her tray of champagne-filled flutes and bottles of beer.

  It’s her first time getting assigned to work a VIP event, and she’s trying to make a good impression on Bruce. She even arrived early to scope out the room and get supplies ready.

  I arrived right on time, because I wasn’t looking forward to working this event. It’s guaranteed to be awkward—serving Victor drinks and snacks when he didn’t know I existed was easier than it will be now that he does.

  He was so surly about my date with Ryan, too. I figured he’d be thrilled I was going on a date since he told me he’s not interested in me that way. Instead, he was…not thrilled, to say the least.

  Victor seems to think I’m an immature child who can’t take care of myself. I didn’t let on how aggravated I was that he wanted me to text him everywhere I went last night, but it made me feel like he didn’t trust my judgment. I’m from the South Side—I may not broadcast that I’d shank any guy who tried to get frisky with me, but I would. My dad never would have let me ride the El alone as a teenager if he hadn’t taught me how to defend myself.

  “Boring! Those drinks ain’t gonna serve themselves.” Bruce gestures toward the door that leads from the small kitchen we’re working out of into the VIP event room.

  I pick up my tray and head out, glad I at least bought a new white dress shirt for tonight.

  I scan the room and my gaze lands on Victor immediately. He and Easy are talking to several beautiful women. It’s all I can do not to turn around and walk back into the kitchen.

  “Lindy, hey.” I turn to see Luca Campbell approaching. “How are you?”

  “Hi, Luca. I’m good, how are you?”

  He shrugs. “Not used to doing meet and greets before a game; it’s kinda weird.”

  “Yeah, I’ve never heard of the owners holding one before a game, either.”

  “Apparently there’s a beauty pageant going on this week, and the contestants are here to meet the players and do a small performance in between one of intermission breaks. One of them is dropping the ceremonial puck, I think.”

  “Ah,” I say, finally realizing that it’s not just the women Victor and Easy are currently talking to—every woman here tonight is crazy beautiful.

  “Why aren’t they hanging on you?” I ask Luca, puzzled.

  He holds up his left hand and I see his shining silver wedding band. He grins, and I can’t help laughing.

  “Well, can I offer you a drink?” I ask him.

  “I wish. Gotta stick to water and Gatorade before a game.”

  Bruce is walking in our direction, and I preemptively move on to avoid him calling out my last name in front of all these people.

  “Better work the room with these drinks,” I say to Luca. “Good luck in the game.”

  “Thanks.”

  Men in suits and women in fancy gowns take drinks off my tray, not even acknowledging me as they do. I shouldn’t care, I know. This is my job. But since meeting Victor, I’m getting used to not feeling invisible, and I like it.

  “Ah, you’re amazing!” a beautiful brunette woman says to me as she peruses the tray of drinks I’m carrying. “What kind of champagne is that, do you know?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  “No worries, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

  I pass her a flute, and she meets my gaze and says thanks before taking a sip.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She probably has no idea how good it made me feel to be seen and acknowledged. Most people don’t. That, or they don’t care.

  After our encounter, my tray is quickly emptied. I go back into the kitchen for a refill, and Ari’s on her way out as I head in. I notice that she’s got another button undone on her shirt and she’s wearing fresh lipstic
k. Always on the prowl, that one. She winks at me as she sails past.

  Bruce passes me a tray filled with little meatballs on toothpicks, instructing me as I take it.

  “Stick to the wall and get around to the far side of the room. Everyone’s trays are getting picked clean before they make it over to the side where the general manager and owners are.”

  “Okay.”

  Great. Now I have to go work the side of the room Victor’s standing on. I was hoping to avoid him.

  Time to pull on my big-girl panties. After a deep breath, I walk out of the kitchen, tray in hand.

  “Hey, Lindy,” Anton says as I pass him.

  “Hi.”

  My coworker Dwayne gives me the side-eye when he hears the exchange. I ignore him, my focus on the other side of the room. While I wish I could just be cool, I’m not made that way, and I’m pretty much staring at Victor and the women he and Easy are talking to.

  It’s the same two as before, and the blond one now has a hand on Victor’s arm. She’s gorgeous.

  “Hey, yo.” A man steadies my tray after I run into him with it.

  “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re okay. Just keep those meatballs safe. Can I snag one?”

  “Of course.”

  He grabs a tooth-picked meatball and nods his thanks. I have to force myself not to look at Victor—or the women he’s talking to—so I don’t crash into anyone else.

  It’s stupid for me to be jealous. Victor’s a professional athlete, and he’s crazy hot. Of course women want him. And not just average hockey fan women like me—all women.

  Even women who look like they need to lay off the Botox and eat a cheeseburger.

  Okay, that was mean. I’m never mean. But now that I’ve gotten to know Victor, I feel a little possessive of him. If he starts seeing someone, I probably won’t get to hang out with him anymore. But it’s not just that that’s bothering me.

  Truth be told, my crush on Victor hasn’t faded even a little since we became friends. If anything, it’s gotten stronger. The more I know about him, the more I like him.

  It’s a problem, because he doesn’t feel that way about me, but Ryan does. And while I had fun with Ryan last night, I didn’t feel a romantic spark.

  I stop walking and offer meatballs to the people around me, chancing a glance at Victor. He’s actually looking in my direction, and when he sees me, he says something to the blond woman and walks over to me.

  “Hey, you,” he says, smiling.

  “Hi.” I thrust my tray toward him. “Meatball?”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  God, he looks good in those hockey pants. The players are all wearing their white pants and team t-shirts. I shouldn’t look anywhere near the direction of his crotch to see if there’s a bulge. That would be weird. And potentially awkward.

  But…

  “Are you looking at my crotch?” Victor raises his brows, amused.

  My face flames. “No. I mean, I was, but…I thought you had something on your pants.”

  “You mean in my pants?”

  “Oh my God, stop.” I shake my head. “Do you want a meatball or not?”

  “Do you?” His tone is teasing.

  I lower my voice. “I will dump these meatballs on your head right now. Stop. If you want someone to drool over you in your little pants, go back to over to Anorexic Barbie.”

  Victor’s lips curve up in a smile. “You’re jealous.”

  “No, I’m not. Not at all. We’re only friends. And now that I see what kind of women you like, I see that I’m way too smart and…definitely not tan enough for you.”

  “Not tan enough?”

  My tone is nearly a whisper now, but it’s a loud one. “Those women are orange.”

  Victor whispers back. “But how do you know I like them?”

  “You were looking at them like…oh, you’re really hot.”

  I’m hopeless. I can’t even argue without being awkward.

  “Anyway,” I say, clearing my throat as I speak out loud again, “if you don’t want a meatball, I need to move on. Lots of meatballs on my tray to serve.”

  He grins and nods. “I see that. And as a matter of fact, I think I do want a meatball.” He eyes my tray. “I just need to decide which one.”

  “I had a date last night,” I remind him. “I’ve got my hands full in that area. So full. I’m not jealous of your friends over there.”

  “Yeah, how was the date, by the way? Did Ryan offer you his coat when you guys were outside?”

  “He didn’t wear one; he just had on a flannel.”

  “A flannel?” Victor laughs and rolls his eyes. “Jesus, this guy is worse than I thought.”

  “You don’t even know him.”

  He takes a meatball and I turn to leave.

  “Hold on, I want more,” he says, chewing the one he just put in his mouth.

  I narrow my eyes and hold my tray out to him.

  “Are you going out with him again?” he asks as he scans the tray.

  “Ryan? Oh, definitely.”

  Victor’s gaze immediately shifts from the tray to my eyes. “Really?”

  “Yeah, we had fun.”

  He lowers his brows and silently turns his focus back to the tray.

  “It’s not that I’m not happy for you,” he says.

  “You don’t seem happy for me.”

  “I am. I just want what’s best for you, Lindy.”

  “What do you think that is?”

  “Someone who gets you and really appreciates how great you are.”

  I sigh softly. “I’m not sure anyone fits that description.”

  “I do.”

  My heart pounds as he meets my gaze. I open my mouth to speak, then close it, sure I’ll fumble this moment. But then, words come out anyway.

  “But you…you don’t like me that way. You said you don’t like me that way.”

  “I said I wasn’t trying to get in your pants.”

  “But that’s…isn’t that the same thing?”

  A middle-aged man I don’t know comes up and puts an arm around Victor. “Vic, can you come over for some photos with the pageant contestants?”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  He gives me an apologetic look. “Can we finish this later?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Are you free after the game?”

  I shake my head. “I have to work late.”

  He nods. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

  I nod back, and he starts walking over to where a photographer is positioning a couple of the pageant contestants.

  “What’s going on with you guys?” Ari asks, suddenly beside me.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you think your date made him realize he wants you for himself?”

  I can’t help but scoff. “I don’t see how that’s even possible.”

  But then, I don’t see how any of this is possible. A couple months ago, I would’ve said even a conversation with Victor Lane was impossible, and I recently ate chow mein and watched Nightmare on Elm Street with him on his couch.

  “Boring!”

  My boss’s voice snaps me out of my reverie. I start moving before he even gets to me, because I know what he’s about to say.

  These meatballs ain’t gonna serve themselves.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Victor

  Finally, a day off.

  I’m not even working out today. It’s rare for me to take a day completely off, but I need it.

  Usually it’s painful to set up large payments to my mom’s former boyfriend Bryan. But this time, I just left the cash where he instructed and mentally moved on immediately. Fifty grand is a hell of a lot of money, but that’s just not where my head’s at right now.

  I’m thinking about Lindy. Last night I had a dream about her, and it hasn’t left my mind since I woke up this morning.

  We were at the VIP event, and she was holding her tray of meatballs.
Not caring about any of the other people there, I took the tray from her and tossed it to the ground. Her eyes widened with surprise and she licked her lips as I stepped closer and undid the buttons on her shirt, starting at the top. One at a time, I slowly unfastened them, my gaze on her parted lips the entire time.

  Until I got to the final button. Once her white shirt was all the way open, I put my hands on her waist and let my gaze fall to her small round breasts, absolutely flawless in a simple white satin bra.

  Her nipples were swelling against the fabric, just like my cock inside my pants. Part of me wanted to rip the bra off and get my mouth on those nipples, but another part wanted to just keep looking, high on seeing this side of sweet, shy Lindy.

  She reached up and pulled her hair out of its ponytail then, shaking her hair out until it fell around her shoulders. I was mesmerized, unaware of anything but her.

  It was just a dream—other than the part about the rock hard erection. When I woke up with morning wood, I jerked off, coming quickly as I replayed the dream over and over.

  I texted her earlier and asked her to come over today so we can talk. Her response floored me.

  I have a date with Ryan tonight. I hate to cancel with no explanation, so I’m going to go. I’ll text you after.

  Once again, I wanted to crush my phone to dust in my hand. I thought for sure we were on the same page yesterday. When I told her I’m the man who gets her and knows how great she is, I saw a happy light in her eyes.

  But Lindy’s a good person. A noble one. I’m not surprised she doesn’t want to just ditch Lyin’ Ryan, but I am disappointed. I’d been secretly hoping she’d come right over when I asked her to meet me to talk today.

  Instead, I’m scrubbing my silverware tray. I tried to watch some Netflix, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Lindy, and ended up pacing around my living room.

  All this thinking has helped me figure shit out though, which isn’t a bad thing. Anton was right—I’ve always gone for women I had to chase. I’ve also always liked women who know how to give great blowjobs, and who know exactly what they want in bed. We cut to the chase and get to getting each other off—in the bedroom, everything was reciprocal.