Page 12 of Home for the Holidays

Slowly, I nod. “Should I not?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll handle it.”

Reaching for his phone, he taps on the screen, and when it buzzes in response, he looks up at me. “Hailey’s got her and her friend. She’ll bring them to us.”

“Thanks, dude.” I give him a fist-bump.

“For future reference,” MacGregor lowers his voice. “The box is for the people who are committed to being by our sides. Wives, fiancées, family. Girlfriends sit at ice level.”

I feel my face heat, and because I’m not wearing my pads, I’m able to feel it spread down my chest. Hopefully, the guys chalk it up to a post-game flush.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I mutter. I just want her to be.

He shakes his head. “Be careful, man. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

After a few minutes, I peel out of my pads and pants to my base layer and head to the bikes to recover. How am I going to play this? What am I going to say?

I think about it all through the cooldown and during my shower. I’m still thinking about it when I pull on my post-game suit and style my hair with a little more care than usual.

MacGregor catches my eye, hiding a smirk. “You ready?”

Tying off my dress shoe, I blow out a breath and shake out my hands. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Followed by Larsson, Easton, and Logan, we head to the players’ tunnels connecting the locker rooms to the parking structure. Logan is the only other one of us unattached, but he’s been down lately, so I don’t mind him tagging along.

“Hey, boo,” Melanie, Easton’s wife, says as we approach. “Good game.” She’s followed by Hailey MacGregor, Rachel, and her friend.

Easton is such a fucking sap, because he melts when she wraps her arms around him. “You’re my good luck charm.”

I force a laugh. “I think you mean me. I’m your good luck charm.”

He punches me in the shoulder. “Fuck off.”

“Hey.” I nod to Rachel. “How are you?”

“Good. You played—wow, you played really well,” she says, wringing her hands. “Thanks for the tickets.”

Her friend, a tall, muscular woman with her hair in a ponytail, nods. “Thanks for including me.”

“I’m Jake,” I introduce, offering my hand.

“Viv Gallagher. I play with the Revolution. It was cool to see how you guys do things,” she says.

“No shit. You play rugby?” My eyebrows go up.

She nods. “Yeah. Our season is over for the year.”

MacGregor nods. “Rugby is totally cool.”

As all of the attention swivels to Viv, my focus is on Rachel. She seems to shrink into herself, a smile on her face like she’s content to let her friend take the spotlight.

I clear my throat. “Did you want to grab a drink before we head home?”

Rachel and Viv share a loaded look.

“I’m not sure…” Rachel starts, then stops.

“I can be around it without needing to partake,” Viv says. She looks to me. “I’m sober.”