Page 257 of Cross Check

“Huh.” She bites her bottom lip, deep in thought. She wrings her hands together and stares out the window. “There’s a chance I’m not going to stay for a long period of time—or go at all. Being around players puts is a gray area, and it leaves room for debate about my intentions.”

“There’s no pressure to come, sweetheart. I just wanted you to have the chance to go if you wanted to go,” I say.

“You can text Emmy,” she murmurs, chuckling when I pump my fist in the air. “But no promises about what happens after that!”

I type out a message to Emmy and read it over to check how it sounds.

Me

Hey. Question for you.

You’re going to Ethan’s Halloween shindig, right?

Emmy answers quickly, and I show Lia the message.

Emmy

I am! Why? What’s up?

“How about this?” I say, writing out another text.

Me

It’s nice to have two professional hockey teams within a 50 mile radius of each other. We should lean into that community feeling.

If you wanted to bring some people from the Sea Crabs to the party, Ethan wouldn’t mind.

“Not bad, Everett. Not super sneaky, but it’s not the worst thing I’ve seen.” Lia takes my phone and tosses it somewhere on the mattress. “I don’t want to know what she says when she responds.”

I tug on her hand and bring her into my lap. “Is there something else you want to do instead?”

“I can think of a few things.” She straddles me, her arms looped around my neck. “Like planning what costumes we’re going to wear.”

“Hear me out.” I kiss her throat, resting a palm on the small of her back. “How about matchsticks?”

Lia’s giggle is beautiful, and when I flip our positions and press her into the mattress with her hands above her head, I take the sound as a resounding yes.

“Why do you keep looking at the door?” Ethan hands me a beer and follows my gaze. “It’s freaking me out.”

“Just wondering who is going to be here.” I take a sip from the bottle and check my phone. “You don’t have to babysit me. I’m fine on my own.”

He doesn’t need telling twice. Ethan pats me on the back and saunters away, finding two women he brings with him to the living room where there’s a bar set up. In the corner is a tattoo artist tattooing tiny designs on people’s arms and knuckles, and on the other end of the space is a makeshift DJ booth.

It’s a good thing Ethan lives in the penthouse suite on the top floor. The noise complaints are going to be through the roof. Add in the packed crowd I have to squeeze through, and I’ll be shocked if the fire marshal doesn’t make an appearance too. There has to be at least seventy-five people here, and I don’t know half of them.

If Amelia ever shows up, she’ll fit right in.

“Waiting for someone?” Liam asks from his spot against the wall.

I yelp and spill my beer when I spot him lurking in the shadows. He’s wearing cat ears, and there are whiskers drawn on his cheeks. I rub my eyes, certain I’m somehow already drunk.

“Are you a fucking cat, dude?” I ask.

“I was coerced here by my wife. I’m not happy about it,” he grumbles.

“Please tell me you have a tail.”

“You’re not looking at my ass, Everett.”