“Me too,” Ryder says.
They chat for a few minutes, and then our group moves along to mingle anew.
This time it’s a coach from Detroit. One of the other inductees this year is a former Red Wings player.
Dad once again introduces Ryder, although this time he adds a throwaway line that makes me raise an eyebrow.
“Luke is going to coach at the Hockey Kings camp in August,” he tells the guy. He glances at Ryder. “Coach Belov will be assisting us one of the days on a shooting workshop. So you two will get to work together, get to know each other better.”
“Looking forward to it,” Ryder says, and I can see him doing his level best to maintain a neutral expression.
Once Belov wanders away, Ryder stares at my dad, who says, “What?”
“Was that your way of giving me the coaching slot at Hockey Kings?”
“Oh, do I need to do an official ask? I just assumed you’d say yes.”
Wyatt snorts.
I sip my champagne. For once in my life, I might actually be enjoying myself at one of these events. So, of course, the universe decides to ruin it.
Brad Fairlee is making his way toward us.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath.
Ryder follows my gaze and instantly reaches for my hand.
Dad notices the new arrival and gives me a look of assurance. “It’ll be okay.”
And it is. At first. Fairlee just shakes Dad’s hand, congratulates him on the honor. Then he congratulates both me and Ryder on our respective championships. I manage to stifle my resentment when he and Dad discuss the upcoming women’s Worlds. It’s in two weeks, and it utterly grates that I could have been playing in it. Still feels like a failure on my part, but I keep forcing myself to remember Ryder’s words. It’s just a moment in time. There will be other moments.
Everything’s friendly and polite—until Fairlee brings up his daughter. It starts off innocuous, him telling Mom about how Emma is auditioning for roles on the West Coast. Then it turns into him glancing at me, his features tightening.
“Emma mentioned you two ran into each other this winter.”
I nod. “We did.”
“She was quite upset when she got home.” His tone remains careful, but his eyes are accusatory.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I answer, equally careful.
There’s a beat of silence.
Then Brad sips his champagne, lowers his glass, and sighs. “Of the two of you, I will say, I expected you to be the more mature one, Gigi. You could afford to show her some grace.”
Oh no, he didn’t.
And ironically, it’s not my reaction he needs to worry about. He just called me immature and graceless in front of my asshole husband, my asshole brother, and my asshole father. That’s bad enough.
But it’s the mama bear he triggered.
“I don’t think so, Brad,” my mother barks in a sharp voice. “With all due respect—and I do respect you—don’t try to parent my kid. Go parent your own. She’s the one with issues that need working through.”
His eyes flash. “Emma didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Emma crawled into my bed, naked, and tried to screw my husband,” Mom says politely, while my brother coughs into his hand to stop from laughing.
Fairlee is stricken. He quickly turns toward my father, who nods and says, “True story.”
“Jesus. Garrett.” His chastened eyes return to my mom. “Hannah. I had no idea. I…apologize on behalf of my daughter.”
“Brad. No. You have nothing to apologize for,” Dad interjects, because at the end of the day Brad Fairlee didn’t do anything wrong. He simply tried to be a good dad by spoiling his kid, making up for her mother leaving them both. “We just kindly ask you don’t talk to our daughter about things you know nothing about.”
“Understood.” Fairlee nods, still looking mortified.
A moment later, he stumbles off in a daze, chugging his champagne.
Sighing, I glance at my parents. “You didn’t have to tell him what Emma did. I feel—” I stop, remembering everything Ryder advised me. Then I shrug, smiling at my husband. “Actually, no. I don’t feel bad. She made her bed.”
Ryder grins. “That’s my girl.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
RYDER
You love me too much
SHANE IS THROWING HIMSELF A GOODBYE PARTY. BUT I DON’T have time to dwell on how pathetic that is, because I’m busy banging my wife in the hall bathroom during said goodbye party.
She’s bent over the vanity, skirt bunched up around her waist, hands gripping the edge of the sink. I pump into her from behind and watch her in the mirror, enjoying the dreamy look on her face as I fuck her hard and fast.
“Jesus, you’re making my head spin,” she moans. “Keep doing that.”
“That good, huh?”
“So good.”
I slam into her eager pussy, bringing my lips to her ear. “You always get me so hard.”
I’m rewarded with another moan and her ass pushing into me to take me as deep as she can.
“You need to come,” she tells me, breathless.
“Want to get you off again first.”
“Someone will be pounding on that door any second.” She’s still rocking back against me, her face flushed.
“Fine,” I grumble, and her reflection smiles at me. Then she intentionally squeezes her pussy because she knows it’ll destroy me, and even if I wanted to hold out for longer, it’s not humanly possible.
I press myself inside her and groan as release shudders through me. Afterward, I grab some tissues and we clean each other up. While Gigi fixes her yellow sundress, I wipe down the sink, because I’m not a total asshole.
She smooths the bottom of her dress over her thighs. Turns to check her hair in the mirror, tucking it behind her ears. Then she examines me.
“You don’t look like you just got fucked,” she says, nodding in approval. “Do I?”
“Yes.”
She sighs.
I wrap my arms around her from behind and kiss her neck. “I love you, you know that?”
“Of course I know that. You tell me like every other second.”
Now I pinch her ass. “Don’t complain about my I-love-you frequency or I’ll crank it down to zero.”
“You would never.” She twists her head to smirk at me. “You love me too much.”
She’s not wrong about that.
“It’s okay,” Gigi consoles. She stands on her tiptoes, and even then, she can barely reach my lips. “I love you too much too.”
Finally that knock comes. The door rattles from the force of it.
“Seriously, assholes! People need to pee!” One of the female partygoers is not as happy with our quickie as we were.
We keep our expressions indifferent as we step out of the bathroom. But everyone out there knows what’s up.
Shane catches sight of us and wanders over. “You realize there are two bathrooms upstairs, along with three bedrooms. One of which is yours.”
I shrug. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Beckett overhears and nods in agreement. “Ryder gets it.”
The weather’s nice enough again to take the party outside, where one of my drunk teammates is barbecuing, and I pray to God he doesn’t burn the house down. At least wait till the lease is up. Although…Beckett is sticking around, so maybe no house fires. Will Larsen is moving in, claiming he’s sick of the dorms, so it’ll be just the two of them here unless they manage to find a third.