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The guys who were married were ready to call their wives and children, hating they were apart for the night. The guys who were single made plans.
A few offered me numbers from puck bunnies that had captured their attention, but I was focused.
I knew right where I wanted to be.
I was walking on clouds as I rounded the corner to Emily’s hallway. She had sent me her room number without hesitation and I was ready to see her after such a long day without her.
As I got closer, I realized I wasn’t the only person with those intentions.
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s my room.”
“I thought it was Emily’s room?”
“It is.”
I laughed, but his face was stone serious. “You’re sharing a room?”
Bash balanced some vending machine drinks in the crook of his arm and searched his pocket. “Where’s the damn card?”
I snatched the thin piece of plastic hanging out of his back pocket and held it up between two fingers.
He swiped it from me and stretched forward, attempting to put it in the slot.
“Let me help.” I grabbed it from him, and a rough grumble tumbled out of him.
But I had no patience for his annoyance. He wasn’t the one just finding out he and Emily were sharing a room. He was lucky I was riding the high of our win and bolstered by the thought of seeing the woman I wanted to pledge my life to.
Before I could put the card in the lock, a mechanism whirred.
Emily opened the door, arms out wide, ready to grab the drinks from Bardot. “I thought I heard you out here—” Her eyes snapped from him to me.
She breathed my name, and I stepped closer to her as Sebastian slid past us into the room.
“Hey, Pink.”
“You were incredible out there.” She threw her arms around my neck, engulfing me right in my favorite place.
I would win every match for the rest of my career just to get hugs like that.
“I tried to find you when it was over, and I couldn’t—”
“I didn’t want to bother you while you were celebrating with the guys.”
“Hey, you’re never ever bothering me. Okay?”
She nodded, biting her lower lip, and drug me into the room. I looked at Bardot—who was not at all happy to witness any of this—and flashed him my brightest smile. I channeled every morsel of happiness I felt from tonight’s win into that smile.
He watched me, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. If looks could kill—sheesh.
“Why’d you stop by?” Emily asked, before shooting a pointed look Bardot’s way. “Not that you need a reason. I just thought you’d be too tired after the game.”
I did have a reason.
It wasn’t something I wanted to say in front of our third wheel, but he didn’t take the hint when I flashed him an imploring look.
I mean, geez, he could have excused himself and hid out in the bathroom for a while. Instead, he stood there, arms folded, waiting for me to talk.
