This makes him chuckle. “You have great tits.”
“Thanks, but that kind of chat might work on a puck bunny, but it doesn’t work on normal women. Here I thought you were some renowned playboy. If that is how you flirt with women, I don’t know how you ever get laid.”
This has him bursting out laughing, a deep belly laugh that vibrates through me. “I like you, St. Pierre. You’re so much funnier than your brothers.”
“I know,” I say, giving him a wink. “Are you going to order drinks or flirt with me?”
“Can’t I do both?” he asks. I give him a look that says ‘no’, which makes him laugh again. He rattles off an order to the bartender, who nods and tells him he will send the bottles over to the table.
“Anyone catch your eye?” he asks as we make our way back to the table.
“I’m here with my girls, haven’t had a chance to check anyone out yet.”
“Too busy talking about me.” He winks.
“Your ego is out of control, you know that, right?”
“I have an ego for a reason,” he quips back.
“Yeah, for sleeping with all the puck bunnies.”
Fish stops walking, and I run into him. He turns around slowly and looks down at me. “Like I said the other day, you of all people should know not to believe everything you read.” He’s right. I notice slight tension in his body as he says that. “But most of it’s true.” He winks as if a switch flips back on and he turns back into the playboy hockey star persona.
4
COLLETTE
We get back to the table, and somehow, in the time we were gone, the whole thing has merged into one big group. Bouch has pulled a chair up next to Marlowe and Eve, and whatever he is saying has them laughing so hard that she’s wiping tears off their cheeks. Nelly and Billie are deep in a conversation that looks weirdly intense. Evan is nursing his beer in silence, which, from what I’ve gathered this week, is just Evan’s personality. He’s sitting back, taking it all in.
Suddenly, Vi appears from her manhunt, wrapped around a guy in a suit, while his friend tags behind them like a lost puppy.Oh, he’s cute.
“Everyone, this is Trent and Griffin,” she purrs as she runs her hands all over Trent.
Griffin is tall, with dark hair and a square jaw, the kind of guy who was born to wear a suit. He looks like he’s just stepped off the set of Wall Street.
“Hold on.” Trent’s eyes land on Fish, then Bouch, then Nelly, and lastly Evan. “You guys play for the Mavericks.” The guys grumble and nod, but look slightly uncomfortable, while Trent looks so excited, as if he can’t believe he’s meeting his heroes.
“Guilty.” Fish grins.
“You didn’t tell me you were hanging out with Mavericks players,” Trent says to Vi.
“Didn’t think it was important.” She shrugs, totally unimpressed with the situation.
“You didn’t think it was important?” Trent stares at Vi as if she’s grown a second head. “These guys are fucking legends.” Trent grabs Griffin’s arm. “Look who it fucking is.”
“I can see,” Griffin says, looking awkwardly as his friend starts fanboying over the guys.
The awkwardness doesn’t deter Trent. “I was at the game against Boston. That one-timer in the third?” Trent is looking at Fish like he scored the goal personally for him. Fish handles it fine because, of course, he does. This is what he was built for, charm and attention and people telling him he’s great.
“Appreciate that, brother,” he tells him, which makes Trent practically glow.
“And Bouchard, the fight against Tampa …” he continues, reminiscing the guy’s glory.
“Which one?” Bouch grins, which pulls Trent into a conversation about how awesome he is, which Bouch is loving.
“The guy is giving me the ick.” Vi pouts at me.
“I’m sure he will settle down once the initial shock has worn off,” I whisper to her, which earns me an eyeroll. I was wrong. Trent continues fanboying over the guys, who are polite about it and saying the right things, but I work with athletes for a living, and I can read the room. Evan orders another beer without making eye contact with anyone. Nelly checks his phone. Fish’s grin is still there, but it’s the professional one now, not the real one. They came here to not be hockey players for five minutes, and now they’re hockey players again. Vi eventually whispers something into Trent’s ear, which makes his cheeks turn pink. The hockey talk dies down eventually, and normal conversationtakes over, which is how Griffin ends up next to me. I don’t know if Vi put him there or if he migrated on his own, but he’s close enough that I can smell his cologne, it’s expensive and not terrible, which in New York is basically a green flag.