Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148473 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
I hadn’t thought about people recognizing me here. It happens more in San Francisco than in other cities, but it still occurs. Maybe he’s seen the billboard on the drive in, but asking a strange guy if he remembers seeing me in my briefs probably isn’t the conversation starter his wife wants to hear.
I offer a fan-friendly smile. “I play hockey.”
He scratches his jaw, admitting, “I’m more of a baseball guy.”
“Can’t fault you for that. I’m counting the days till spring training myself.”
“Me too,” he says.
Before I can ask what team he roots for, Maeve slides next to me and clears her throat. “Baseball is fine, but may I suggest you try the hockey entree from the sports menu this season? Studies show hockey is a more satisfying sport.” Maeve flashes a smile my way. “Plus, I’m pretty sure all those Canadians can’t be wrong.”
The man laughs. “Sold. I’m Hal, by the way. Otherwise known as New Hockey Fan.”
It’s my turn to introduce myself, but their son tugs on his mom’s hand. “Can we go play in the pool?”
“Once we check in, sweetheart. If you can just let Mommy finish this.” She turns back to me with a glint in her eyes now. “I’m Jen. And I know you’re having a great season.”
Hal jerks his gaze to his wife, questions flashing in his eyes. “You follow hockey?”
“I know his stats are good,” she tells her husband.
More like excellent, but I don’t correct her. Besides, maybe Jen’s just being nice. Even so, I rap on the counter for luck, though it’s not wood. “That’s all her doing—my season,” I say, curling a hand over Maeve’s shoulder. I don’t want to leave my companion in the dust. I’m here with Maeve, and I want to include her. “She’s my good luck charm.”
“Clearly,” Jen says. “She brought us good luck tonight too. Thank you again. This is exactly how I want to get lucky in Vegas.”
Laughing, Hal nuzzles his wife. He might have other luck in mind. And yeah, maybe the extra room is exactly what this couple needs. Maybe sex is the new sleep.
Their clerk continues with their check-in while ours hands us our key cards. We thank him, then say goodbye to the family.
But Jen whispers something to her husband, then is looking a little sheepishly at me as he fiddles with his phone. And I know that look. I see it in the fans who wait by the players’ parking lot after games for photos, where I happily stop and take them. He nudges her, whispering something like go ahead.
“Did you want a pic?” I ask helpfully, to make it easier for them.
Her eyes widen. “If it’s not a problem.”
“Not at all,” I say.
She beams, then points to her husband, blurting out, “I bought him the fire-breathing dragon ones for our anniversary after seeing an online ad.”
Oh. It all makes sense now. She doesn’t know me from the sport. She knows me from the CheekyBeast campaign.
“Go pants-less,” Maeve snickers, then clears her amusement and says, “I can take a pic of both of you with the world’s hottest underwear model. Would you like that, Jen?”
“Oh yes,” Jen says, right as I say to Maeve in a stern tone, “Hockey player.”
Maeve parts her lips in an O. “Oops. My bad. I meant…pants-less hockey player.”
Hal nods to Maeve. “But we need you in it, since you bring all the good luck, I hear.”
“I also take great selfies,” Maeve says, then takes Hal’s offered phone, snapping a shot of the four of us as the kids wait patiently. That’ll be up on social soon enough, I bet, which will probably make Everly happy since she did say she hoped the winners would post pics of their dates.
And we’re on it.
“Will you tag me?” I ask. I can reshare it then.
“Definitely,” Hal says, then squeezes his wife’s shoulder. “And thanks again. It’s the little surprises, like dragon underwear, that keep the spark alive.”
“Glad to hear,” I say.
Jen gives a soft smile, gratitude in her eyes. “And seriously, this was amazing. Is there anything we can do for you?”
It’s sweet they asked, really. But I just wave a hand and say, “Enjoy yourselves tonight.”
“We will,” Jen says. “We’ll pay it forward.”
“Sounds great.”
Maeve and I head toward the elevator. Along the way, I shake off the bit of unease I felt walking into the hotel. There’s really no need for it. This room switch is more proof of how seamlessly Maeve and I can slide from a smoldering kiss last week right back into friendship this week. More proof of how necessary our friendship is too. We’ve handled the flight, the room, the whole damn trip so far like pros. And when it comes to the room, who cares if we’re sharing one? We had an extra, after all.