Page 92 of The Shot You Missed
She stands out. With her pink hair, her tattoos, and curves any man would trip over himself to feel against his body, my woman is a bombshell.
I hear our group before we see them. Despite being in a private room, their laughter and conversation breaches containment and has more than a few patrons trying to see what’s happening. They’re talking about last night’s win against Dallas, erasing any doubt that it’s a bunch of professional hockey players inside.
Everyone cheers when we walk in. The girls rush to hug Indie and Lola before Griffin breaks through the crowd and slings an arm around Lola’s shoulder, pulling her away.
“Lola. Let me introduce you to someone.”
Lola chews on her bottom lip as Griffin steers her through the crowd and toward the tall hockey player in flowy black pants and a cherry-red corset top. Megan’s almost as tall as I am, at five foot eleven, but she’s wearing heels that easily bring her up to my six foot one. Her chestnut brown hair is pulled up in a sleek ponytail, and her amber eyes are winged with black liner.
Megan tracks Lola and Griffin, heat and interest obvious in her expression, and Indie chuckles softly when Lola adds an extra sway to her hips.
“This looks promising so far,” I murmur against the shell of Indie’s ear.
We watch as she and Megan exchange greetings, laugh at something Griffin says, and drift closer together. They have obvious chemistry, and I silently hope they also have things in common and a genuine connection. Because I want Indie and Lola to stay in the Twin Cities, and the best way to encourage that is for the two of them to put down roots.
Lola and Megan make their way over after a few minutes of chatting. Lola motions to Indie. “This is my best friend, Indie. And I’m pretty sure you know her boyfriend.”
Megan’s eyebrows rise at that, and she glances between Indie and me before lifting her chin in greeting to me. “I do. How’s it going, Navarro? You played a helluva game last night. The girls and I were watching.”
“Thanks, James. We appreciate your support. We’ve been watching you ladies kill it too. We’re hoping we can all get to a game if our schedules don’t completely clash.”
“Ohmygod, that would be so fun. Indie and I want to tag along,” Lola says, looking like she’s doing her best not to bounce on the balls of her feet like an excited kid.
“I’m sure we could make that happen.” Megan smiles down at Lola, and I swear I can practically see an animated flock of happy little bluebirds circling them like they’re the main couple in an old-school Disney movie. Megan turns her attention to Indie and extends a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Indie.”
“You too,” my girl says, beaming up at Megan as they shake hands.
“Let’s get you ladies a drink, shall we?” Megan looks down at Lola, who nods enthusiastically.
“I could go for a drink,” Indie says, leaning into me. I wrap an arm around her waist and clock the smiles of my teammates as they watch us together. Luckily, I don’t think Indie notices. She’s too busy watching her best friend fall for the Lightning’s star center.
“What’s your poison?” Megan asks Lola, pressing her palm to the small of Lola’s back and leading her toward the bar. “You look like a sweet drink kind of woman.”
“You’re not wrong. My favorites are Sex on the Beach and Tie Me to the Bedpost, but I also enjoy a good Dirty Little Virgin.”
Griffin tries to stifle a chuckle beside me. “Damn. Shorty’s ballsy, isn’t she?”
“She’s one of the most confident people I know,” Indie agrees. “Megan doesn’t stand a chance.”
“Love to see it,” Griffin says. “I’m going to check on the wifey and see if she needs another drink. Catch you in a minute.”
My teammate saunters away, and I enjoy the stolen moment of privacy with my girlfriend and the way she sighs and rests her head on my shoulder. We watch everyone interact, both of us quiet, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing I am.
This feels right. Like this is what life should have been like for the past ten years.
“Are you thirsty, sweetheart?”
She hums, and the vibration sends a little shiver up my spine. “I could go for a cider.”
“On it.” Pressing a kiss to her temple, I head toward the bar. The moment they see she’s alone, Blair and Mira appear at Indie’s side and start an animated conversation. I barely notice the crowd as I navigate it because I’m too busy watching the woman I’ve loved for as long as I can remember bloom right in front of me. She lights up as the ladies say something, throwing her head back and laughing without a care in the world for who sees her.
I don’t know what Indie’s life in LA was like. I wish I did. But I suspect she didn’t often let loose in public like this. If she did, there would probably be photographic proof, but everything that’s popped up in my alerts has been shots of Indie with her head down, chin tucked against her chest. Hiding.
She’s not hiding now, and I never want her to feel like she has to again.
“You look happy,” Maddox says, joining me at the bar. He scans the crowd, his attention swinging back to his wife every few seconds.
“I am, man. Really happy.”
