Page 30 of Dangle

“You doing okay, Cap? You’re really quiet lately.”

He meant well, but if I wanted to talk, I would.

“Yep,” I said. “I’m all good, Zaney.”

“Okay, well. The staff put out the food, and weallneed to put something in our stomachs other than booze,” Zane said laughingly.

The asshole part of me that sounded like my fucking father wanted to say, ‘I know I’ve got a nose,’ but I held my tongue. Instead, I said, “I’ll be there in a minute. I wanna finish watching warm-ups.”

He stood and patted my shoulder before walking off. My phone buzzed where it lay on my thigh. Mom’s contact popped up. I swiped it open, happy the read receipts were off, so I could figure out what the hell she needed before I responded.

If I responded.

MOM

Hey! I have a photoshoot in the area tomorrow, so I thought I’d stop by, but you’re not answering the phone in your room or the door for the nice boy I bribed to knock on your door since he wouldn’t let me past the lobby.

Yeah. That’s a no-response text. At twenty-one years old, with a trust fund from her mother to pay my way, I wasn’t answering texts like those. I shook my head and took a deep swallow of the slowly warming beer.

MOM

Your truck isn’t here either.

Jesus fucking Christ. Boundaries.

DAD

Where the hell are you? Your mother flew out to see you, and you’re not answering your door? That trust fund is under my control. Keep it up, and you won’t see a cent.

Fuck my life. I leaned forward and set my phone face down on the window ledge in front of me. I felt off, a lost soul amid a tornado. Chaos surrounded me inside and out, bits and pieces of life hurled at me by the wind of life, passing me by. I was twenty-one years old. My parents were fucking assholes who wouldn’t let me live my life on my terms. I couldn’t for the life of me find anything to hold on to, to steady myself, or to snatch my identity from their fucking clutches.

Dropping my head into my hands knocked my ball cap back on my head, but I ignored it. The smell of the food came closer,and I sighed. Zane and Ethan were caretakers, and the twins, too, when they noticed my family were being assholes, but when I looked up and straightened my hat, Ryan Riordan looked back at me. At least it wasn’t one of the older guys milling about.

“Thought you might be hungry. Tell me to fuck off if I overstepped,” Riordy said, drifting off when I took the plate from him.

“Thanks, man,” I said, looking over my shoulder as everyone else settled in at the long table set up behind the stadium rows of black leather armchairs. “I appreciate it, but you didn’t need to do this,” I said while he settled into the chair next to me.

“I made one for you and one for Ethan. He is getting too drunk too fast, and he didn’t eat nearly enough at lunch.”

“Never try to hide from a goalie,” I said.

“A seriously useless practice,” Riordy said.

He dug into the massive amount of food on his plate, as I did the same. One of the best things about being a twenty-one-year-old world-class hockey player: the fucking food and the amounts of it I could put away without too much worry.

I loved what the arena prepared and lost myself in the tastes and textures. The ribeye melted in your mouth, and the chimichurri and horseradish cream sauces…chef’s kiss. Roasted Brussels sprouts, creamed spinach, and creamy mashed potatoes all rocked. As did the sushi, burrata salad, and mezze board, which had two of my favorites—whipped feta and roasted garlic hummus.

The arena’s chef needed kudos for this spread. Plate empty, I stood, offering to take Riordy’s now empty plate, too. Making my way to the buffet, I paused at the sight of the chef standing nearby. A staff member taking the empty plates from my hands startled me into motion.

Looking at the chef, I held out my hand. “Thank you. The food, well, it was some of the best I’ve ever eaten.”

He smiled at me as he shook my hand. “Thank you. I’m thrilled you enjoyed it.”

I turned to the bar for another drink, only to stop when my gaze met Slone’s. Beautiful brown eyes held a look I couldn’t describe. Words for the way it made me feel refused to come to me either. Twisted, slithery thoughts and emotions overtook my body, pulling me under until I drowned in his eyes.

“Another drink?”

“Huh?” I asked the voice from over my shoulder. One I heard but didn’t comprehend.