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I flip it around and lift the lid to expose the cake. His eyes shoot to mine, and his brows arch.
“Congratulations, Ollie?” He pauses, studying my face. “Congratulations for what?”
I glance over at Chase.
He shrugs. “I didn’t know if it was a secret.”
“It’s not a secret,” Oakley counters while shoving her boyfriend’s shoulder. Though her touch is more of a caress.
Chase captures her hand in his and brings it to his lips.
“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise if there was one,” he murmurs, speaking directly to his girlfriend.
I shake my head when they start making out again.
“Tell the world …” I make eye contact with Mike. “Ollie’s headed to Chicago next season!”
“No shit! He got called up?” Mike asks. His words are laced with awe and excitement.
I nod. “This afternoon.”
“Well, damn!” Mike says enthusiastically, slamming his palm against the tabletop.
Sam starts to swipe a piece of frosting from the corner of the cake.
I push his finger away, glaring at him in the process. “Hands off, Anderson.”
He smirks.
My eyes narrow further as I cross my arms over my chest. “That sexy little smirk will get you nowhere with me.”
Sam tilts his head. “Ahh, Mads. I always knew you found me sexy.”
I scoff. “You wish. You smell like a brewery, Sam. And it’s barely ten.”
It’s common knowledge that the hockey players get served here. All of them. Even the underaged ones, like Sam.
He waves his glass in the air, toasting me from across the table, before the rim hits his lower lip unapologetically. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Well, this is a bar.”
“And you’re still underaged,” I remind him.
Normally, I don’t care what these guys do. I’m not their keeper. But Sam’s been out of control lately. And I’m still pissed at him for the way he treated Oakley.
“Since when has that stopped me?” he counters.
True story. I watch as Sam excuses himself. He glances over at Chase and Oakley before making his way to the bar for a refill. I can’t tell if Sam is still sulking after losing my best friend. Oakley and I both think he’s more upset over losing her to Chase than he is about the breakup in general. After all, he’s been an egotistical, narcissistic ass lately. Or he could be upset because the hockey season is over. Who knows about him these days? But he seems to be sinking further and further into a hole of alcohol and women. Every time I see him now, he’s drowning in one or the other. Usually, it’s both.
“Mads,” a deep voice growls as a heavy arm snakes its way around my neck.
I glance up until my gaze connects with Charlie McMann’s. I’m obviously a tall woman. But Charlie is a beast of a man. Standing six feet five inches tall, the starting goalie for the team towers over me and everyone else in the place. Charlie’s eyes are on the dessert in front of me.
“That son of a bitch …” Charlie comments knowingly when he notices the writing. There’s a hint of envy in his baritone voice. “He’s gonna kill it in the league.”
I huff out a laugh when Mike pouts across the table.
“Am I seriously the last one to know?”
“Don’t pout, Mike,” I say. “It’s not a good look.”
