Birthday Girl: A contemporary sports romantic comedy (Minnesota Ice Book 3)

by Lily Kate

  Up until today, I’ve always stayed away from Ryan, thinking he was a bit of a kiss ass, but now I’m not so sure. A part of me wants to know his secrets, how he’s managed to have it all.

  I want my cake, and I want to eat it, too.

  But I’m not Ryan; I’m not that guy. My face isn’t pretty, and I don’t love dressing up in suits and going to events and being in the public eye. I’ve got scars and tattoos, and I can’t suck up to the coach if my life depends on it. It just doesn’t work for me.

  What’s really sickening about the whole thing, though, is that he deserves it. Ryan is, without a doubt, a good dude. He stays out of trouble. He’s never been caught up in the hazing crap between teammates, and he hasn’t had one too many drinks at the bar and then slurred to the media. He hasn’t been traded across the country because people were tired of cleaning up after him.

  Unlike me.

  “Pierce.” I clear my throat and fork a bite of pancake into my mouth. “I need your advice.”

  “Never thought I’d see the day.” Ryan turns to me, his eyes narrowing on mine. “What happened?”

  “Well...”

  “Never mind.” He waves his hand, following my line of sight to land on Annie Plymouth. “She happened.”

  I swallow my food, and then nod.

  “I don’t want to hear your bedroom talk, James, sorry.”

  “It’s not about that. It’s about... everything else.”

  “Oh, shit.” A slow smile spreads across Ryan’s face. “Relationship talk.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Annie seems like a really great girl.” Ryan glances back over toward the table. Andi and Annie have their heads lowered in a private chat, smiles and giggles making their way across the room. “I mean, Andi seems to really like her. Andi doesn’t just sit down and talk with anyone.”

  “Annie is a nice girl. She’s perfect.”

  “So, what’s the problem?”

  “Me.”

  “Right.” Ryan nods. “You want to become less of an asshole in order to keep her?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m sorry, man. I don’t know if I have advice.” Ryan crosses his arms over his sweater. “I just got lucky with Andi.”

  “Andi’s great, and she wouldn’t be with you if you were screwing everything up. What’s your secret?”

  He pauses, biting his lip in thought. “I’ve never thought about it. Life with Andi is just easy.”

  “Do you buy her presents? Cook for her?” I wave a hand before me, more awkward than I’ve ever been in my life. “What sort of shit should I be doing to keep Annie?”

  “Well, that’s where you’re going wrong.” Ryan shoots me a somewhat mystified glance. “Just treat her like a normal human being. Annie’s smart and capable. Listen when she talks, do what she asks—you know, within reason—and then there’s the last thing. But that’s self-explanatory.”

  “The last thing?”

  “Great sex,” Ryan says with a grin. “That helps, too.”

  “Yeah, well.” I tip my plate into the trash can, so absorbed in the conversation I don’t notice the scathing look from Annie’s grandmother before it’s too late. “Unfortunately, I can’t do much on that end.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Ryan gives my shoulder a light punch, his eyebrows furrowing with annoyance. “Don’t be a moron, James. It’s not that hard. Don’t be selfish. Just make her... I don’t know, feel nice.”

  “That doesn’t work if she doesn’t want to have sex.” I glare at him. “Capisce?”

  Ryan’s shocked into silence.

  “That’s what I thought,” I murmur. “Hence my crawling to you and begging for advice.”

  “You haven’t had sex?”

  “She’s not ready. I’m not going to fucking pressure her, asshole.”

  Ryan’s silent for a long moment. “I assumed—”

  “You assumed I wouldn’t be with Annie if we weren’t hooking up, didn’t you?” I try to control my temper, but it’s not working. My blood is starting to boil, and I have to remind myself that I came to him for advice. “You think I’m not good enough for Annie, that I’m interested in the easiest target. Well, it’s not like that. Not anymore, at least.”

  “Look, I’m sorry.” Ryan turns to face me, his eyes meeting mine. “I didn’t realize.”

  “You didn’t know better,” I grumble. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine.” Ryan reaches out, extends a hand. “I owe you an apology. It was stupid of me to assume.”

  We shake, and it’s enough to call a truce. For the first time, my respect inches up a few notches for the guy. If his apology means anything, maybe he’s changing his tune about me, too. Maybe it’s not too late for us to coexist on the Stars without intense mutual dislike.

  “She’s...” I take a breath and wait until the pancake line runs back down to zero. “She’s got some trust issues. Her dad is a tool, I think.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yeah, and I’m trying to be patient, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Any signs of progress?”

  I think about the last few weeks—the way she stood up to Coach last week at the vending machine, the way she’s been staying over more and more. The way she kissed me this morning, and the things she’s promised for tonight.

  “Yeah.”

  Ryan turns toward me and studies me, scrutinizes me with an intensity that makes me a little weirded out. “I’ve gotta admit, James, I read you all wrong.”

  “Lots of people do.”

  “I think you’re doing just fine,” he says. “For the record.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” I tell him. “For a suck-up.”

  “Okay, asshole,” Ryan says with a grin. “As far as Annie goes, just stay the course. Let her come to you, and you’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so.” I catch a glimpse of white hair speeding our way through the crowded room, and my pulse races a bit as I warn Ryan. “You should probably get going. Annie’s Gran is headed over here, and she’s going to tear us a new one when she finds our pancakes in the trash can.”

  Ryan claps my shoulder. Before he leaves, though, he turns and gives me one last, fleeting smile. “I’ll make you a promise, James.”

  “Yeah?”

  “If you stay the course, you won’t be sorry,” he says with a knowing glance toward Andi. “Let me tell you, buddy, it’s all worth it.”

  Chapter 38

  ANNIE

  “Good, they’re gone.” Andi Peretti, fiancé to the Stars’ captain Ryan Pierce, turns a bright set of eyes on me. “Now we can really talk. How long have you and Cohen been seeing each other?”

  Andi sent the boys back up to the buffet table for more pancakes, and now, we’re finally alone. A group of us—me, Cohen, Ryan, Andi, Boxer, and one or two others—have been sitting together for almost an hour. Time has flown by, and it’s a little scary to think, but I could get used to hanging with this crowd.

  “It’s new. We’re new.” I glance over my shoulder at Cohen, who’s flanked by Boxer and Ryan.

  Andi claps her hands. “That is so exciting! How did he ask you out?”

  I’m too distracted to answer. The boys at the pancake table are unabashedly watching us, and it makes my face heat up under their gazes. “What do you think they’re talking about?” I ask Andi. “They won’t stop staring.”

  Andi rolls her eyes. “Boxer’s probably trying to convince them we’re talking about our boobs or something.”

  I laugh, turning back to Andi. “You and Ryan are so sweet together.”

  She clasps her hands to her chest as if she’s having a heart attack. “I know!” She stretches the word out, pausing for drama before returning her hands to the table. Holding up a ring, she flashes the engagement sparkles at me. “I love him! And he is so great. But we’re old news, and I want to hear about you and Cohen.”

  “I’m not sure there’s much to say.” I
bob my shoulders up and down. “Everything is so new.”

  “Yeah, but that’s when the fun stuff happens. Tell me one thing—is the sex awesome or what? Like, is it all hockey guys? Because I didn’t know what I was missing until I met Ryan.” She fans herself. “Thank God he ordered pizza, or my life would be boring.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Don’t you dare hold out on me!”

  I glance around, and then lean over the table, lowering my voice. “We haven’t had sex yet.”

  “What?! I mean... I didn’t see that one coming.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.”

  “What are you apologizing for? I actually think a little more highly of Cohen right now.”

  “I waited at first because I didn’t want to be burned. You know, another notch on the bedpost.” I hesitate, feeling odd opening up to an almost complete stranger, but something about Andi inspires confidence. “And now I am ready. So ready, I’m just... I’m nervous.”

  “Oh, honey.” She reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “About what?”

  “I don’t want to ruin things,” I say, a tightness in my chest lightening as the words gush out, the fears I’ve been holding inside for weeks. “I want to think that I could date casually, but I know myself too well. I can’t do casual. I’ve only had one boyfriend, and we dated for several years.”

  “Wow,” Andi says. “Why’d it end?”

  “He was...” I hesitate, searching for my canned explanation that I give whenever anyone asks. “We weren’t...”

  I stopped again. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to say that we just hadn’t worked out. Maybe I’d never really come to terms with what had happened in my previous relationship. Maybe I’d never even stopped to think about it.

  I suppose I’d always assumed that we just weren’t a good fit. That maybe I wasn’t cutting it for him, wasn’t exciting or sexy or spontaneous enough to keep the fire alive. Not that there’d been more than a weak flame, even in the very beginning.

  “Oh. One of those?”

  “He was a jerk!” I explode. It feels great to finally say it. “You know, I never realized it until recently, I guess.”

  Andi grins. “Until you met Cohen?!”

  I give a shy nod. “I thought it’d been my fault that things didn’t work out, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

  “Honey, I can tell you it wasn’t your fault. I mean, everyone has flaws, but this guy sounds like an asshole, and you haven’t even told me his name yet!”

  “And now I’ve got all these feelings for Cohen, and it’s driving me insane! I’ve never had these...” I gesture toward my stomach. “These....”

  “Butterflies?”

  “Yes!”

  “That’s a good thing! Butterflies mean you’re doing something right.”

  “But it makes no sense. He’s a hockey player. I want to go to law school. What if I go somewhere out of state? What if he’s traded? What if he sees some beautiful fan outside the rink and decides I’m too boring? What if—”

  “Hold up, there, Nellie.” Andi raises her hands up, giving the signal to put on the brakes. “That’s a lot of what-ifs. I mean, look at me and Ryan. We have a cross country relationship, and it wasn’t always easy.”

  “But you’re perfect for each other.”

  “If Cohen’s perfect for you, then you two will make things work.” She taps her fingers against the table. “Look, I’m just now beginning to trust that things will work out, and we’re engaged. We’ve dated for months. The thing is, Ryan and I love each other. We choose to work at it every day, every month, every year. Once two people make that a priority, everything else starts to become clear.”

  “How do I know if Cohen wants those same things?”

  “Well, you have to become a mind reader.”

  I squint at her. “What?”

  “I’m kidding,” Andi teases with a grin. “You have to ask him. There’s no magical way to know. It’s awkward at first, but it gets better. Ryan and I have been talking for so long now that I just blurt out whatever I want. Try me! Ask a question about our future.”

  “Where do you want to live?”

  “I’m working in LA now, so we’re doing some back and forth. Once we’re married, we’ll get a house here. My dad’s going to let us build a condo over his newest pizza shop, so we’ll have two homes and figure it out from there.”

  “Do you have a wedding date?”

  “August 8th.”

  “How many kids do you want?”

  “He wants five, I want three,” Andi says with a good-natured roll of her eyes. “We’ll see how that ends up.”

  “You guys are so adorable.”

  “I know,” she says, giving me a wink. “Doesn’t it make you sick?”

  “When did you know you loved him?”

  She pauses from her rapid fire answers, her eyes taking on a hazy sort of look as she glances across the room at her fiancé. “I think I knew... well, I knew really soon after I met him. Even before I admitted it to myself. The way he talked to me, treated me, even those little touches. It wasn’t a bang moment of epiphany, it was all of the little things adding up.”

  “How long did you wait to have sex?”

  “Honey,” Andi says with a shake of her head. “That’s a personal decision. You have to go with whatever feels right to you.”

  She’s blushing pink at the memories these questions have brought back, and it’s heartwarming.

  I’m trying to think of another question for her, but she beats me to the punch.

  “Do you love him?” she asks. “If he asked you to marry him tomorrow, would you say yes?”

  “It’s way too soon for that.” A tingling goes down my spine. “I can’t answer that.”

  “That’s what your head says,” Andi tells me with a confident wink. “If you want my advice, listen to what your heart says.”

  “I’m not very good at hearing what my heart has to say. What if—”

  “There you go on the what-ifs again. What if Ryan’s traded to Tampa? What if Ryan sees a puck bunny with bigger boobs than mine? What if I get struck by lightning and die tomorrow? You can’t know these things. If you ever want to dive into a relationship, you just have to do it.”

  “I’m not much of a diver. I’m more of a toe-dipper.”

  “And I’m a belly-flopper,” Andi says with a laugh. “Awkward and slightly painful to watch. But that’s the charm in it—we’re all different. Plus, Cohen’s crazy about you. He can’t keep his hands off you, and he’s been staring at you all day.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Hey, Boxer,” Andi says loudly, widening her eyes and giving me the signal that girl time is over. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine.” He takes a seat next to us, maneuvering his big form onto the chair. He bumps into the table and sends all of the utensils flying. “What are you ladies talking about?”

  “Books,” Andi says without breaking stride. “What’d you think we were talking about?”

  “Damn.” Boxer stands, shaking his head. “Don’t tell Ryan that.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’s always right,” Boxer says with a grin. “And I can’t stand it.”

  “Oh, Boxer,” Andi says. “He’s so lovable.”

  “What about Boxer?” Ryan asks, returning to the table. “What did you just tell him?”

  “No comment,” Andi says, standing and hooking her arm through her fiancé’s. “I think it’s time for us to be going. Nice talking to you, Annie. You have my number now—don’t be afraid to use it.”

  I stand when she stretches out her arms and leans in for a hug. “Thank you for everything.”

  “You too,” she says. “Good luck.”

  Before I can turn around to look for Cohen, he appears behind me with a cup of coffee. “Your grandmother is going to kill me.”

  “What? Why?” I look up, catching his gaze. “Oh, death by too much food? Yes, that’s a real threat
with Gran.”

  “She loves Boxer, though. He’s a black hole.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I like your friends.”

  “They’re not so bad.” Cohen says with a quiet smile. “Anyway, I have to head to practice. Will I see you tonight after your dinner?”

  “Yes, please,” I say, giving him a lingering kiss. “I can’t wait.”

  He brings a hand around to the nape of my neck and draws me toward him, brushing a kiss against my forehead. “I’m going to embarrass myself in front of your grandmother if you keep talking.”

  “Better get going then,” I tell him, my hands coming to rest on his sturdy chest. “Don’t be late on my account, or your coach will hate me.”

  Cohen takes my hand in his. “Let me walk you out.”

  “I’m going to stay and help clean up. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “One more thing.” He takes one step away and stops in place. “What were you and Andi talking about?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Yes or no question.”

  “Mmm?”

  “Were you talking about books?”

  I make the zip-my-lips gesture. “I’ll never tell.”

  Chapter 39

  COHEN

  “It’s me,” I call through the dark entryway. “Dad?”

  There’s no answer. Instead, the sound of the television draws me through the small, cluttered house toward the living room. I step over a cardboard box crumpled in a heap on the overflowing trash bin; the beer cans that were once inside are now long gone.

  “Dad?”

  No answer again. I know he’s here, somewhere. He’s either ignoring me, or he’s lulled himself into a drunken stupor again. I take advantage of the quiet in the house to swing into the kitchen and pop open the fridge. Let’s see what the man’s been eating.

  The shelves aren’t empty, but it’s not a pretty sight. Jar of pickles, leftover containers of pizza and Chinese... something growing in the back corner that looks like it was once a carrot.

  Disgusting.

  I slam the door shut and stomp my way into the living room.

  My old man’s there, eyes wide open, watching an infomercial on a new ab workout machine. Not that he needs it—he’s thin as a rail, despite his horrendous nutritional routine.