Page 167 of Right Man, Right Time
I catch his cheeks blush as he shakes his head. “No, had it for a bit.”
“I love it. You should wear it more often.”
Why do I feel like he’s going to wear it every day for the rest of his life now?
“Thanks.”
Just to stir the pot a bit, I nudge his shoulder. “You going to compliment her dress?”
Holmes flashes a death look at me right before he says, “Uh, you look beautiful, Blakely.”
Okay, I was just looking for a dress compliment, not a full-on I’m in love with you compliment.
“Oh . . . thank you, Halsey.” She glances down at her plum dress. “Since I have to be on the ice today before the game, I thought I would dress in Agitators colors.”
“Purple looks really good on you.”
I swear to God, I see heart eyes sprouting from Holmes. He’s going to get so much shit when we get to the locker room, and he knows it.
“Thank you.” She clears her throat. “Um, well, I have to go gather some things—”
“Ugh, there you are,” I hear Sarah say as she walks up to us in a pair of skintight black pants and a purple top that dips low in the front. “Oh hey, Silas.” She smiles, and it’s crazy that I used to like that smile—now it just seems maniacal. Like she’s plotting revenge.
“Hey,” I say, hand in my pocket.
She turns to Blakely. “I talked with the guys, and they’ll be able to use the new purple rug we got for the ice. They’re unpacking it now.”
“Oh, awesome.”
“Let me know if you need anything else. I’m going upstairs to work on a few graphics.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
“Okay, catch you later.” She walks by me and runs her hand down my arm as she passes. “Good luck today.” And then she’s gone.
When she’s out of earshot, Blakely whispers, “She was telling me the other day that she’s trying to get you back. I don’t know what your history is, but I would be careful because aren’t you dating someone?”
“I am. Sarah can try all she wants, but it’s not going to happen. I’m happy with Ollie.”
“Okay, good. Just checking. All right, I’ll let you boys get to the locker room.” She moves by us. “Good luck tonight, Halsey.”
“Thanks,” he says quietly as we move away.
When we’re out of earshot, I say, “That was fun.”
“Not a fucking word,” he grumbles.
And I leave it at that because why torture him anymore?
* * *
Silas:Where are you?
Ollie:Back of the bar.
I move through the crowd, trying not to draw attention, but that’s nearly impossible after another big win. Undefeated has never felt so good.
Posey follows me as well as Holmes and Rivers, and we head to the back of the bar where Ollie is waiting with a round of beers.
