Page 72 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

My own twitch in amusement.

Is she jealous?

“Hey. How’s it going?”

“Yeah, you know. Busy. Missing seeing you out there. Monroe is holding his own, though. He was a good find.”

I think of our innocent rookie who turned up for training camp at the beginning of last season looking terrified as fuck. But from the moment he stepped on the ice, we all knew he had something. He outshone the other rookies by a mile; hell, he was better than many of our third- and fourth-line guys. I wasn’t surprised when Coach announced that he’d be playing on the second line. I also knew that he’d be gunning for my spot. I just didn’t think it would happen quite like this.

“Yeah, he’s incredible. He and Rett have good chemistry out there.”

“He’s not you, though, Killer. Don’t even think for a second that you’re being replaced.”

I smile at her, desperate to buy into her words. But just like everyone else who’s said something similar, their hope doesn’t hold any weight. My fate is firmly in our team owner’s and general manager’s hands. It’s fucking terrifying.

“Anyway, you’re not here to talk work. What can I get you to drink? Beer?”

“Please,” I say before she turns to Sienna.

“Umm…gin and tonic?” she asks with a wince, as if she’s expecting Hannah to tell her that it’s beer or nothing.

“Of course. Coming right up.”

Silence falls between us as Hannah walks away to place our order.

“Everything okay?” I ask, sinking into the bench seating.

“Yeah, of course. Why?”

I smirk at her, letting her know that I saw her reaction when Hannah teasingly called me “sir,” but she doesn’t give anything away.

Our eyes hold for a beat, but before I can think of something to say, her eyes dart to the TV.

“It’s starting,” she says, giving the game her full attention.

It takes me a couple of seconds to do the same, but eventually, I manage to force my eyes away from her, although I’m too late and miss the first puck drop after all.

The first period is fast-paced, and despite their best effort to hold us off, we go into the first intermission up 1 to 0.

The guys are barely off the ice when Hannah returns to take our food order. She’s waited intentionally, because she’s aware that I won’t want to miss a second of the game, and while I appreciate the fuck out of it, I can’t say that I was as invested in the game as I usually would be, considering who’s sitting opposite me.

“What can I get for you guys?” she asks, notebook poised.

I look at Sienna, aware that we haven’t discussed what we’re eating. But as far as I’m concerned, it’s wings and fries always when at Bills.

“Their wings are the best in the state,” I offer as she scans the menu again.

She nods. “Then I’ll take the mixed wings and a house salad. But can I have the dressing on the side, please?”

“You got it. Wings and fries, sir?”

Sienna doesn’t react as much this time, but I don’t miss the way her shoulders tense.

“You got it. And another round of drinks, please.”

“Absolutely. The boys have totally got this tonight. My money is on 3-0 by the final whistle.”

“They’ll be more than happy with that,” I say before she disappears once again. “I’m gonna shoot to the bathroom,” I tell Sienna before slipping from the booth.