by Piper Rayne
He laughs again. “You think I’m cocky, huh?”
“No—”
“Thirteen.” He smirks and the girl inside me who loves guys just like him wants to know why he’d pick an unlucky number.
“Thirteen is unlucky.”
“They call me Shamrock. I’ve been lucky as fuck my entire life. I’ve never had to be superstitious before like my teammates. But now I’m thinking maybe a kiss from you and I’ll score a goal after a long dry spell.”
“Is this a line? Because up until now I thought you were a great guy, but this all sounds like extreme bullshit.” I hand tightens around my drink.
“I didn’t much care for you to know that I played but Ford ruined that. I figure might as well be honest with you, especially if it earns me a kiss.” He bends down closer and inside the music stops and someone starts the countdown at ten through the microphone.
I press my finger to his lips. “And what if you kiss me tonight and score in your next game? What are you going to do, chase me down to kiss you before every game?”
He chuckles again, gently lowering my wrist to my side. The guy says eight in the microphone and my chest constricts. “Well, I’d hope that after I kiss you, I could grab that phone number, and maybe we could see each other once you end whatever you have going with your date.”
“You want to date me or go on a date?”
The guy’s voice says five and cheers erupt through the house. But we’re in our own little bubble tucked away under the overhang of the balcony. “I know athletes get reputations but I’m not really a one-night stand kind of guy. I want the real thing. I think we have a connection.”
The guy gets down to three on the microphone and my stomach turns over with queasiness.
“So, what do you say? Can I kiss you?” He leans in, millimeters from my face and I close my eyes as the guy announces two… one.
I panic and before I can stop myself my hand is already moving. I throw my drink in Aiden’s face.
“What the hell?” He backs away, wiping his hand down his face.
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” I run out of our hiding spot and hit the bottom of the stairs, but Joran’s there.
“There you are.” I glance back and Aiden’s right behind me.
He comes to a dead stop. “What the hell, man? Did you piss a girl off like usual?” Joran asks, but he doesn’t wait for him to answer. “It’s midnight and I didn’t have anyone to kiss.”
“Probably because you spent the whole night away from me.”
“Who’s your date, Joran?” Aiden asks quietly.
Joran puts his arm around my waist. “This is Saige. Saige this is Aiden Drake, one of my clients.”
Aiden nods and holds out his hand. “You two have a great evening.” I shake his hand, but he pulls it back immediately and walks up the stairs.
“So how about that midnight kiss?” Joran bends down toward me and I place my hand over his mouth, pushing him back.
“I don’t think so. I’m calling an Uber.”
I follow Aiden up the stairs, but by the time I make it through the house and out the front doors, he’s nowhere to be found.
Way to go, Saige. You finally have a great night with a guy and your conscience screws it all up for you.
But there is no way I can risk being his good luck charm regardless of whether he scores during his next game or not.
Chapter Twelve
Aiden
Two days later
* * *
“Holy fuck!” Maksim opens up a bottle of champagne and sprays it over the entire locker room.
You’d think we just won the Cup.
“I bought this on the way here today. I knew today was your day.” He dumps the bottle over my head while I grin.
Ford slaps me on the back. “A fucking hat trick. You’re a damn beast.” He opens his mouth and Maksim pours some champagne down his throat.
The entire team is all smiles and ‘fuck yeahs.’ I sit in the locker room while everyone’s talking about the big power move, our goalie’s shutdowns, and my blast from the point. Nothing has felt better in a long damn time.
“We’re going out tonight and we’re fucking partying.” Ford leans in front of me and puts both his hands on either side of my head, his sweaty forehead touching my own. “You rocked it out there!”
I can’t strip the smile off my face. Although I did score three goals, I have a long way to go to get back to the player I was. Consistency is what I need. This can’t be a one-off.
“What did you do? Taco Bell? Socks? You look like you got a haircut,” my teammate, Tweetie, asks from across the room. “What’s the new superstition? Because I speak for all of us that we’ll make whatever it is happen for you.”
I rack my brain thinking about what I did differently today. I wasn’t lying when I told Saige on New Year’s Eve that I’ve never really had superstitions. Never before now. So, I think about my breakfast, my lunch, and my dinner. Same things I’ve had before any other game. I got to the rink at the same time as normal, all my clothes were all freshly laundered.
“Did you get some? Because isn’t that girl the lucky chick. She’s got you for the entire season.” Ford unlaces his skates and I shake my head before something else clicks in my brain.
I’ve been so preoccupied wanting to know why Saige threw that drink at me when I bent my head down to kiss her. What sparked that after I thought we were enjoying each other’s company? Then again, to find out her date was Joran fucking killed it for me. Not exactly like I can go after my agent’s girl and expect him to go to bat for me at the end of this season when my contract is up. But damn, could it be that Saige was the game changer for me?
No fucking way. No one’s superstition has ever been crashing and burning while hitting on a woman.
I shake my head.
“DRAKE!” Coach Vittner calls from his office.
I slide into my sliders and walk across the room still in my pads. My teammates all patting me on the back for a great job. It’s one of the best things about being on a team when you do things that boosts everyone up.
“Yeah, Coach?” I peek my head in and he ushers me inside.
“Close the door. You guys are way too loud tonight.” Then he’s smiling and I catch an open bottle of Jack Daniels on his desk. Looks like even the coach is celebrating. “Good game tonight. I’m proud of you. Whatever you did, you need to fucking repeat it for the next game.”
“I didn’t do anything differently and I don’t really believe in superstitions—”
“You’re a hockey player.”
Okay, I should clarify it’s not that I don’t believe in them, I’ve just never needed them. I guess I’m new to the whole obsession with them.
“I just wanted to call you in here because you played great tonight. I got wind of what could be gossip, but if your performance doesn’t stay like it was tonight there’s a chance your bags are packed by the end of February.”
“Trade?”
He sighs. “If it was my decision, it’s a no-brainer. I knew you’d be where you are tonight. But it’s the big man. He makes the decisions. Let’s give it to him right in the ass for even thinking of getting rid of you.”
I fucking love Coach Vittner and this is why. He’s a true leader and goes to bat for his players all the damn time.
“Shit. Just as the pressure was easing up.”
He chuckles. “I tell you this to encourage you to do everything in your power to score and win, not to make you depressed like some teenage boy who hasn’t touched his first tit. Come on, Drake. You’ve got this.”
“But what if next game I don’t?”
Even I hate the unsureness in my tone.
“Oh fuck, that’s not what I wanna hear. I wanna hear you say you’re gonna score. You’re gonna win. You’re gonna screw Carl Gerhardt right up the ass.”
“Well…” I cock my head to the side.
“Too far, I know. But go out there and celebrate t
onight. And whatever you did before tonight’s game, repeat it.”
“Yes, sir.” I turn and with my hand on the doorknob, I stop. “Coach?” I turn and he’s drinking his Jack Daniels from a paper cup. “The whole superstition thing is like twenty-four hours before game time?”
He shrugs. “Every hockey player has their own. I guess you’re about to find out what yours is. But don’t go experimenting and fuck it up. Anything that’s different in your life, do before next game.”
“But—”
“Drake, we’re not building a damn rocket here. If this is about some girl you slept with last night, hate to break it to you, but retrieve that phone number out of the trash. We’re talking about your career here.”
I nod and leave Coach’s office.
Maksim comes up to me, naked, swinging his huge dick way too close to me. “What do you need me to do? Pick up food from a certain place? Not touch your shit? Wear your jockstrap? Hell, you name it.”
“Yeah, Shamrock, we’re your men. Whatever you need us to do to make this a streak.” Ford comes alongside Maksim, looking down. “Goddamn, remind me never to do a porno with you.”
I think long and hard for a moment. “I think I have to track someone down. Maksim, do you have that business card from that woman you met on New Year’s—Saige?”
“The cute blonde?” he asks.
“I knew you went home with her when we couldn’t find you. Home alone, my ass.” Ford flips me off.
“Yeah, the blonde.” I nod at Maksim.
He reaches into his bag and hands it over to me. “Here you go.”
I sit on the bench and twirl it around in my hands. I have to be delusional to be thinking she has anything to do with my performance on the ice tonight, right? But why risk it?
I shove the card into my bag and hit the showers. After overthinking it all, my career is everything and I need to protect it. I have to keep this up, no matter the costs.
* * *
Two days later…
* * *
I walk into a small office that holds only two employees. I bypass the brunette and head right to the blonde, placing a glass and an opened bottle of white wine on her desk.
She looks up and slides back as if repulsed by my nearness. “Aiden,” she says, a little breathless.
I ignore all the effects her saying my name has on me. I’m here for one reason.
“I need you to throw this drink in my face.”
Do you think Saige will end up being Aiden’s lucky charm?
My Lucky #13 releases 6.29.21
CLICK HERE to pre-order at a discounted rate!!
About Piper Rayne
Piper Rayne is a USA Today Bestselling author duo. Our goal is to bring you romance stories that have "Heartwarming Humor With a Side of Sizzle" (okay...you caught us, that's our tagline). A little about us... We both have Kindles full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.
* * *
Website: www.piperrayne.com
Join our newsletter and get 6 FREE PREQUELS!
http://bit.ly/2tsNcpP
About the Author
Piper Rayne is a USA Today Bestselling author duo. Our goal is to bring you romance stories that have "Heartwarming Humor With a Side of Sizzle" (okay...you caught us, that's our tagline). A little about us... We both have Kindles full of one-clickable books. We're both married to husbands who drive us to drink. We're both chauffeurs to our kids. Most of all, we love hot heroes and quirky heroines that make us laugh, and we hope you do, too.
* * *
Website: www.piperrayne.com
Join our newsletter and get 6 FREE PREQUELS!
http://bit.ly/2tsNcpP
Also by Piper Rayne
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