CREW IS HAVING a hell of a game. That’s not unusual, but this is good even for Crew. He’s playing hard, but loose. He’s having a good time. He seems to have boundless energy. The other team simply can’t keep up with him. He scored three times in the first period. He’s absolutely on fire.
And I’m just sitting on the end of the bench grinning like an idiot.
I guess living with the guy, falling in love with the same woman, sleeping with the guy—literally—for the past two weeks, has made me a super fan. I laugh to myself. If that won’t do it, nothing will.
Crew is fun to watch and easy to cheer for. He has been since day one. Even before he played for the Racketeers, I was a casual fan of his. He’s that kind of athlete. Anyone who is a hockey fan has to appreciate the kind of player Crew is—tough, talented, fair, but cocky. He’s full of himself, but he can back it all up.
But it’s definitely different watching him tonight.
We’re sharing something that I’ve never shared with anyone else.
I’ve shared a woman before, but it was nothing like this. It was just sex. It wasn’t anything like what we have with Dani.
Crew and I are in love with the same woman. We’re in a relationship with the same woman. A relationship that will hopefully be long-term. And that means that we’re in a relationship with one another. And Nathan.
That makes watching Crew play different now. I feel like I’m watching one of my best friends, or even a brother, play. I’m proud of him.
And a little worried as one of the defenders from the other team, the Dragons, barrels toward him, trying to prevent another point from Crew before the end of the second period.
I get to my feet and lean into the glass to watch. I always worry about our players getting hurt, of course. That’s my job. But my stomach is knotted tighter than usual as I watch Crew get smashed against the boards by a guy that easily outweighs him by thirty pounds.
They tussle for a few seconds, then Crew shoves him off, and skates away and I breathe again.
Fuck. Being involved with Crew is going to be tough. Especially when I’m on the bench, right down front for all the people gunning for him, for all the chances he takes, and—
The referees whistle blasts and I shake my head.
And all the stupid shit he does.
Crew turned around and went back after the guy who checked him into the wall. Both players have their gloves off and are swinging hard. And connecting.
Fuck.
Now Crew’s bleeding and heading my way.
And grinning.
He stomps into the bench area and down to where I’m already on my feet and reaching for the first aid supplies.
“Damn, I love this game,” he declares as he plops in front of me.
“You’re an idiot,” I tell him, starting to clean the gash on his cheek. I can’t tell if it’s his nose bleeding or the cut. Or both.
“Nah, I don’t even feel it. Did you see her?”
Jesus, of course this is about Dani. “You got hit because you were thinking about her instead of the game?” I ask with a frown, wiping the blood away, pushing a little harder than probably necessary.
“No way. I got hit because I told Travers he needs to get off my ass, I’m off the market and he’s not my type anyway.”
I huff out a laugh in spite of myself. Justin Travers, the Dragons D-man and one of the best in the league, hates Crew. Crew is the only player to score on him this year.
I apply ointment to his gash. His nose has already stopped bleeding. “So what about Dani?”
“Did you see her?” he repeats. His stupid grin is huge. And genuine.
God, this guy is done for. He is head over heels.
I can’t help but smile. Dani deserves that. She’s got all of us wrapped around her little finger and, honestly, there is nowhere I’d rather be.
She’ll take good care of us. And God knows Crew and Nathan need her. For different reasons, but…yeah. Nathan needs her warmth and happiness. Crew needs her acceptance and the way she blooms for him. He needs to be good for someone. And he really is for her. She’s even brighter when he’s around. Just like she seems feistier because of Nathan. He brings that sassiness out of her.
It’s all gorgeous.
“Doc? Hey,” Crew says, snapping his fingers in front of my face. “Did you see Dani?”
I bat his hand away. “I did.” She’s sitting with Luna tonight. In the same seats she was in the night we met. I’m sure Nathan had something to do with that. They’re great seats. Right on the ice.
She’s impossible to miss. Even if I wasn’t looking for her, which I was. Her gorgeous red hair is down and loose, she’s wearing blue jeans that mold to her delicious curves, and she’s in a Chicago Racketeers jersey. With MCNEILL and a huge number 17 on the back.
She’s not the only one in the arena wearing a jersey with Crew’s name and number, of course. But she’s the only one making his dick hard because of it. And making him act like he’s invincible on the ice.
I love that he’s happy and proud and I even like that he’s a little possessive of her. That means he’s serious about her, I figure. But it’s making him do stupid shit like get in a fist fight with a guy bigger and meaner than him.
“I fuckin’ love that she’s here. It’s the first game I’ve had her in the stands since we’ve been together.”
Yes, I’m very aware of that. I roll my eyes. I’m pretty sure Crew remembers waking up with both of our heads on the same fucking pillow this morning because we’re both sleeping with her. Literally sleeping, at least part of the time. In the same bed. And Crew’s a cuddler. Not that I’m surprised.
Nathan insists on sleeping with Dani between him and any other male bedmates. Which means Crew and I take turns sleeping on her other side. The other one of us gets the outside of the bed.
There are pros and cons of each position, actually. Up against Dani is a very nice place to spend the night. But the outside makes it easier to get up and out without crawling over another man.
“You need to keep your head in the game and stop getting hit. You can’t afford a concussion. You need all the brain cells you’ve got left. Nathan already tricked you out of…” I glance down the bench, but no one’s looking at us. “You know.”
The other night, Nathan and Crew had ended up in some argument over hockey stats and Nathan had bet Crew that if Nathan was right, Crew had to sit out sex with Dani and just watch.
Crew had lost.
Crew laughs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I just love having her here.”
She’d come to the arena with Luna. Crew and I had needed to be here well ahead of game time, of course, and we’d told Nathan that the no-one-on-one dates included not having her to himself in the owner’s box. That didn’t seem fair. The hockey arena where we all worked and that we all loved should be a level playing field. So to speak.
“She looks fucking amazing with my name on her back,” Crew says.
I nod. It’s weird. It’s not my name she’s wearing, but there’s something about seeing her in one of our names that even made my blood pump a little harder. We haven’t defined our foursome in super specific terms, but she’s made it clear that it’s all for one and one for all, and her being here tonight, claiming Crew, even if it’s only the four of us that really know it, makes me feel possessive of her too.
Besides, I was the only one with enough free time to text her when I’d seen her. Crew was warming up and Nathan was schmoozing, or handing out more VIP tickets, or some other owner-of-the-team crap.
You look amazing. I hope you have a fantastic time tonight. Can’t wait to see you at home.
She’d responded with a selfie of her and Luna in their seats, her giving me a kissy-face.
Then I’d arranged for Sammy, the Malamute mascot, to show up with beers, soft pretzels, and pizza for her and Luna after this period.
“I’m going to make her wear that tonight in bed,” Crew says.
My attention snaps back to him. I have his cut closed with a butterfly suture and he’s cleaned up, but I can do that shit in my sleep. I’ve been daydreaming about our girl.
I glance down the bench, but no one seems to have heard him. I suppose even if they had, they wouldn’t know that I was going to be in bed with them.
“Nathan will not be happy about that.”
Crew grins. “I know.”
“Doc, any chance of him playing again this century?” Coach barks at me.
“Tonight even,” I tell him dryly, clapping Crew on the shoulder. “Get out there and don’t be a dumbass. You have to be in one piece for our girl later.”
He gives me another goofy, in-love grin and springs up from the bench. “You know it.”
He crashes back onto the ice and two minutes later scores again, just before the period ends.
He’s going to be impossible to live with now.
But I’m grinning a goofy grin myself. Even Nathan will have to admit that Crew deserves some extra perks with Dani tonight.
And speaking of Dani…
I turn to catch one more glimpse of her as I make my way off the bench and toward the hallway that will lead to the locker rooms for intermission.
Sammy is approaching with beers and food.
And a black…something. And a giant bouquet of… flowers? They look like flowers, but I’m not sure that’s what they are. They are on stems, with ribbons, and wrapped in cellophane.
He is barely able to juggle everything and the crowd is murmuring and pointing.
Then suddenly he’s on the jumbotron. With Dani. Again.
I freeze, unable to tear myself away.
Dani turns, slowly, almost with trepidation, to face Sammy as the other people in their row scramble out of the way.
The jumbotron gets a close-up of her face, her eyes widening, her cheeks blushing, her mouth falling open.
Sammy sloshes beer and loses a pretzel as he makes his way to her. Then he thrusts everything at her.
She says something that I can’t lip read, then starts taking things from his arms. She hands the beers to Luna, takes the pizza slices and remaining pretzel and sets them down on her seat, then she takes the black thing. It’s a cardigan sweater.
What the hell?
But realization dawns. I look up at the owner’s box. Nathan sent the sweater, and not because he’s worried she’s cold. He wanted to cover up Crew’s name on her jersey. Nice.
I sigh. He is coming around, but I shouldn’t expect miracles like Nathan Armstrong changing all his stripes in just a few days.
Dani tosses the sweater onto her seat as well, turning enough that the jumbotron gets a full shot of the back of the jersey she’s wearing.
The crowd starts to cheer.
She looks up, startled. She clearly doesn’t understand what they’re so excited about.
But I think I do.
Sammy thrusts the bouquet of…whatever…at her.
She takes them, then looks toward the Racketeers bench. Toward me.
She smiles and the jumbotron zooms in on what she’s holding.
It’s a bouquet of cookies.
I look toward the owner’s box again. Huh. Was that just a play on her nickname, the one now being used in the group text with all of us, or was that Nathan’s way of not-too-subtly reminding her that she’s got three boyfriends? Not just the one who’s a cocky, hotshot, hockey player?
Either way…that was pretty good.
But when she turns to set the cookies down the jumbotron flashes the Kiss Cam screen and Sammy bends over and taps his cheek as if asking for a kiss. Then the jumbotron operator zooms in on the back of her jersey again and the crowd goes wild.
I shake my head at the owner’s box.
The crowd thinks the cookie bouquet is from Crew. They’ve also obviously remembered who she is. The Kiss Cam is helping. So is Sammy.
Nathan and I just inadvertently helped the Racketeer fans put together that Dani is the Kiss Cam girl from the other night. And in about thirty more seconds, Danielle Larkin is going to be labeled in the press and all over social media as Crew McNeill’s girlfriend.
