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He grinned. “Maybe we should make joint holiday shopping an annual event.”
She nodded, aware that over the past few years, they’d established a lot of shared routines, including a spring-cleaning weekend shortly after the end of his season, where they tackled apartment projects together; double Thanksgivings that included lunch with her parents and dinner with his mom; and a trifecta Friendsgiving/Ugly Holiday Sweater/New Year’s bash, always held on Christmas Eve due to the guys’ hockey schedule.
“Here we are.” Blake pulled up to the front of the hotel. “Wait there.”
She remained where she was as Blake walked around the front of the car, handing the keys to the valet before opening the door for her. He helped her out, then tucked her hand in the crook of his arm again. It was a chilly night, as winter was starting to kick in, but it wasn’t super cold. Regardless, she snuggled close enough that Blake must have thought she was seeking warmth because he dropped her hand and instead wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tugging her against his chest.
He was always warm, something she’d remarked on many times in the past. He claimed it was because his body was conditioned to the cold, which made sense, considering he spent so much of his time on ice.
“Blake,” they heard someone call out as soon as they entered the ballroom. Glancing to the left, they spotted Tank and Preston standing next to one of the three bar setups.
Tank waved them over. “What’s up, Doc? Didn’t expect Blake to rope you into this dog and pony show. Thought he liked you.”
She grinned. “Pulled the favor card.”
Tank shook his head. “What a dick.”
The two of them laughed.
“Only thing to do at crap like this,” Tank added, “is get shit-faced.”
He asked her what she wanted to drink, then ordered a red wine for her and beers for the guys. The four of them walked over to a table Blake’s teammates had already claimed.
Glancing around, Erika instantly felt at ease, as she’d spent countless nights with all the guys at the table, and she was even familiar with one of the regular puck bunnies.
Coulton and Victor were sitting there, conversing quietly, as Preston reclaimed his seat, joining their discussion of—shocker—last night’s game. It looked as if all three men had come stag. In fact, Tank appeared to be the only other guy who’d brought a date or, Jesus, two dates. Erika recognized one of the women, Lara, from celebrations at the pub and the hallway outside Blake’s apartment following several victory sleepovers.
Tank introduced his other date, Emily, to Erika—joking that Preston had given him his plus one so he could bring “both his girls.”
Erika noticed neither woman seemed bothered by his introduction, or unhappy that they were sharing the man.
Blake pulled out her chair, claiming the one next to her. Lara sat on his other side, giving Blake a sexy smile, despite the fact she was here with his best friend on the team. Tank and Blake exchanged pleasantries, clearly unbothered about the fact they were sitting between a woman they’d both taken to bed.
It didn’t matter how many times she went out with Blake and his teammates; Erika would never get used to what she teasingly referred to as their Bedroom Roulette game.
Seeing the two women with Tank served as a good reminder to Erika why tonight wasn’t a date, and why she and Blake were much better off as friends. She had too much pride to allow herself to become another notch on the sexy hockey star’s bedpost.
“How long do we have to stay at this fucking fucked-up thing?” Victor grumbled. The defenseman’s use of the F-word was so extreme and frequent, Erika couldn’t recall ever hearing the man form a sentence that didn’t use it at least once.
She bent her head, trying to hide her grin at his crankiness. She’d spent enough time around the grumpy man to know that Victor’s bark was worse than his bite. His scowl was firmly in place tonight, letting everyone know he wasn’t here out of the goodness of his heart, but due to his obligation to the team.
Tonight’s charity, the Rays Foundation, provided money to foster children so that they could participate in school and community athletics. The foundation—sponsored by the Stingrays—paid for equipment, registration fees, and even provided transportation to practices and games, if necessary.
“It’s for a good cause,” Coulton reminded Victor. “So I don’t mind too much. My Little Brother is one of the kids benefitting from the money raised tonight.”
Coulton, the Rays’ starting goalie, was physically huge, so when Erika first met him, she’d expected him to have a personality that matched. That didn’t prove to be true at all, as Coulton was a soft-spoken, easygoing man who never seemed to get upset about anything. His nickname on the team was The Rock, as Coulton was their emotional rock, the one who always steadied the boat.
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Lara remarked.
Tank shook his head as he wrapped his arm around his date’s chair. “Coulton volunteers for Big Brothers Big Sisters. The Little Brother thing is an honorary title. How long you been hanging with that kid now?”
Coulton smiled, clearly pleased by Tank’s question. “Slade’s been my Little Brother for about a year. Great kid. Lives with his aunt, but she’s got five of her own, plus Slade’s older sister, so he was getting lost in the crowd. His aunt enrolled him in the program when he started acting out at school, getting bad grades, shoplifting.”
“How old is he?” Erika asked.
“Just turned eleven.” Coulton beamed as he added, “Little punk actually made the honor roll this semester.” If pride had a face, it would be Coulton’s right now.
“You’re changing that kid’s life,” Blake said, his words mirroring Erika’s thoughts.
