The Play Page 57

DEAN: G and Logan are here too. Behind my bench.

 

 

Huh, really? How are they swinging that? Garrett is one of the most recognizable hockey players in the country. Last time I saw him, he admitted he scarcely goes out anymore because he’s constantly getting recognized. Logan is in his rookie season, so he can probably still maintain a low profile, but G’s the star of the team.

When we arrive at our seats, I discover that the two Boston players are terrible at disguises. They’ve opted for baseball caps, and Garrett’s wearing a pair of square hipster glasses on the bridge of his nose.

I burst out laughing. “Fake glasses? Seriously?”

He smirks. “Worked, didn’t it? You did a double take.”

“Not because I didn’t recognize you—because you look stupid.”

Logan snickers.

I introduce them to Demi, who, thanks to her complete ignorance of the sport, doesn’t make a big fuss over them.

“Are Hannah or Grace coming?” I ask. I hope the answer’s yes, because it would be nice if Demi had some chicks to chat with during the game. I doubt she’ll pay a lick of attention to what’s happening on the ice.

“Gracie’s writing a paper,” Logan replies. “She wanted to get it done before winter break so she doesn’t have to work over the holidays.”

“And Hannah’s still at the studio,” Garrett says. “She said she’d try to meet up with us afterward, if we go out anywhere. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, Hunter’s been super busy,” Demi answers for me. “He got arrested, got his ass kicked…busy busy bee.”

Logan snorts. “I didn’t want to ask about your lip, but now that the subject’s been brought up…”

“My ex-boyfriend beat him up,” Demi informs him. “I take full responsibility for it.”

“Yeah, and you should take full responsibility for the jail thing, too,” I say in accusation.

“You’re the one who made me wear the big hoops!”

“This is confusing to me,” Garrett says frankly.

We don’t get a chance to elaborate—Dean just spotted us and he’s slapping a palm on the Plexiglass to say hello.

“That’s Dean,” I tell Demi, who for once is speechless.

“Oh,” she finally remarks. “Wow.”

I narrow my eyes. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s insanely attractive.”

“Yeah, and he knows it,” Garrett says with a sigh.

The first period kicks off, Dean’s army of fourteen-year-olds taking the ice. The puck drops, and the center wins the faceoff, deking out two opponents before passing to one of her defensewomen. Dean’s girls are good. Very, very good. The refs, on the other hand, are hot garbage.

“What the hell was that?!” Logan shouts, flying to his feet. “They were offsides!”

On the bench, Dean is red-faced from outrage. “Offsides!” he thunders, but the ref merely skates past him.

“Lord, he’s even beautiful when he’s angry,” Demi breathes. “Guys, how are you not acknowledging this?”

“We lived with him for four years,” Garrett says dryly. “We’re well aware of his appeal.”

“Do you think life is different when you’re that attractive?”

I lean over to pinch her side. “We should ask you that. You’re the supermodel.”

“Aw, thanks, Monk.”

“Monk?” Garrett echoes.

“Because he’s celibate,” Demi clarifies.

G grins. “That’s still going on?”

“Yup yup—”

“Don’t say yup yup,” Demi interjects.

“—you know me, willpower of steel.”

The rest of the game, while fast-paced, is not at all competitive. Dean’s team crushes their opponent, scoring five goals to the other team’s one. I note that Dean is a terrific coach, praising his players each time they return to the bench. With one girl, he leans in to whisper in her ear for a long time between line changes, dispensing his wisdom. When she’s back on the ice for her next shift, she almost scores off a teammate’s rebound. Even without a goal under her belt, she’s beaming at Dean when her line skates off. That’s the mark of a great coach—he can make you feel invincible whether you win or lose.

After the ass-kicking, we meet up with Dean in the lobby. “I’m just coordinating with the other teachers about getting the girls back to the hotel,” he says. “I gotta ride the bus with them, but I want to go out afterward. I can meet you guys somewhere.”

“You don’t have to stay with the girls?” Garrett asks.

“God no. Parent chaperones, baby. I’ve done my job, and now I need to get the fuck out. I’ve been surrounded by teenage girls for the past two days.” Yet he says it jokingly, and I know he’s proud of his team’s performance this weekend. “You in?”

“Where are you thinking?” Demi asks him.

“Hmmm. Well, Saturdays are Latin night at the Exodus Club.”

She rolls her eyes. “Why did you look at me when you said that? Because I’m Latina?”

He rolls his eyes back. “No, because you asked me the question, baby doll. So what do you say?”

Demi glances at me with an unspoken Can we?

“Sure.” I shrug. “Why the hell not.”

 

 

Hannah Wells meets us outside the club. There’s a line down the block to get in, but Dean has no qualms about striding to the bouncer and dropping a name in his ear. Dude, you can’t make Garrett Graham wait in line, I suspect he’s saying. And a second later we’re waved past the velvet rope.

Our little group follows a nearly pitch-black corridor toward the sounds of thumping bass and Spanish guitar. There’s a coat check at the end of the hall, which we make use of, handing over our winter gear.

“So I hear your songwriting career has taken off,” I tease Hannah with a smile.

“I’m doing okay,” she says modestly.

“You were in the studio with Delilah Sparks tonight. That’s more than okay.”

“Right? I can’t even. It’s still so surreal.”

When we enter the club, an array of strobe lights assaults my vision. The music blares and the temperature is scorching. Three seconds in, and I’m already sweating through my Under Armour T-shirt.

Demi links her arm through mine. “Do you salsa, Monk?”

“Nope.” She’s wearing a skimpy tank top, and the heat of her body sears into me. Christ. I wish she’d never kissed me. I’ve been horny as fuck ever since.

“Let’s grab some drinks,” Garrett suggests.

“Shots?” Logan says hopefully.

“One shot.”

“C’mon, G, we’ve got four days off. Let’s take advantage.”

Garrett throws a muscular arm around his long-time girlfriend. “Oh, trust me.” He winks. “I’ll be taking advantage of it.”

Hannah grins.

They do one round of shots, but I abstain. I’m the DD, so I want to keep a clear head tonight. What if we get pulled over again? What if this time Demi decides to suck my dick in the car for real?