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I grab a bucket of beers for the guys and bring it to the table in the back, grabbing a seat next to Conrad. He’s a first year, like me, on the team. We’ve become pretty good friends over the past couple of months.
“Hey, check out this new dating app.” Conrad shows it to me.
“The Kiss Connection?” I read the app’s logo as he opens it on his phone. “Never heard of it.”
“Like I said, it’s new. It’s a local app, supposed to be more tailored to girls who are interested in actually meeting guys and not just stringing them along on an app.”
I groan. “I hate apps. I’ve had some of my worst dates from one of those popular sites. Everyone is always so superficial, lying about their picture or their age by ten years.”
Conrad grimaces. “Dude, I’m not dating a fifteen-year-old. That’s some sick shit.”
“You know what I mean.” I knock his arm. “The twenty-five-year-olds are probably closer to forty. Come on, we can meet plenty of women without using some dumbass app. It’s not like we have any trouble getting numbers.”
He shows me his open app, quickly scrolling through the profiles of the dozens of young and hot singles our age.
Swipe left.
Swipe left.
Swipe right.
I shouldn’t give a shit who he likes or doesn’t. But it feels wrong, deciding solely based on someone’s picture whether you match with them. Even the profiles feel inadequate.
Swipe left.
Swipe left.
I’m more than a little bored watching his swiping habits, until he pauses over my girl. He swipes right and my blood instantly boils.
“You just swiped right.” The air leaves my lungs, and heat radiates through me. Oh, hell no, we both cannot like the same woman.
“Yeah, she’s cute. What, you don’t think she’s a real person?”
“Definitely a catfish,” I say. “I’ve seen that profile on numerous other dating sites. Tried talking to her once.” I down the rest of my beer. “She has a boyfriend. Probably looking for a threesome with another guy.”
Conrad makes a face and shuts off the app. He turns off his screen, leaving his phone on the table beside him. He sips his beer and grins as a smug look crosses his face. “Look who just dropped in.”
I glance toward the door in the direction Conrad is facing and see what all the commotion is about.
Former Ice Dragons hockey star, Jasper Greyson, steps into the bar. He retired last year, still comes to all the hockey games. There were rumors that he’d been offered a coaching position and also a sportscasting job, but he hadn’t taken either gig.
His public statement is that he’s taking a little time with his family. After playing six years and making millions, it’s not like he’s hurting for money.
He’s newly married, so it’s probably that honeymoon phase where they can’t be apart from one another for more than a few minutes. I remember my cousin Veronica when she married Sadie. Those two were inseparable.
Jasper strides in with a cute brunette on his arm, who is so short it makes Jasper appear even taller than he already is. I smirk and nod toward him as he notices our crew in the back. He gives a lopsided grin, and they join us at our table.
The fucking Jasper Greyson is drinking with us.
My head swims.
I’ve seen him at games. I’ve heard whispers that he might join us for a drink from the older players who have at best another season in them, but it’s the first time it’s actually happened.
“You guys did great tonight,” Jasper says. “Congrats! Always love sticking it to the Bruisers.”
We all laugh, knowing they’re a huge rival in our division.
There’s a lot of chatter, the bar gets incredibly lively, especially as other patrons start filing in and notice us. They also notice Jasper, who is a legend.
