Page 120 of Cross Check

“Are you forcing water on me in the name of my best friend so I’ll stay hydrated?” I ask.

“Yup.” She takes my hand and presses the cup into it. “Do you want to argue with me?”

“Never.” My lips twitch with a smile, and I down half the fluid. She’s cute when she’s pushy. “Way better than the handle of vodka I consumed recently. My liver thanks you.”

“Will you tell me about last night?” Amelia rests her head on my shoulder. I swear my heart jumps to my throat at the contact. “I want to hear about all the good things.”

“We were acting like idiots after the win.” I grin. The best parts of the last twenty-four hours flit through my mind. “That’s pretty typical for us. We had champagne in the locker room. Ethan and I were smoking cigars. Riley and Hudson were taking photos like we were at prom. It was hysterical. We were on top of the world.”

“And the game. You had an assist.” The warm exhale of her laugh tickles my neck. “Talk about a cool stat to rack up in game seven.”

“That drop pass was fun. I can’t believe Hudson was the one to score the game winner.”

“Did Brody show any emotion after the win?”

“I’m pretty sure I saw him smile when it was his turn with the trophy. Then he yelled at Ethan, and all was right in the world.” I scrub a hand over my face. “What time is it?”

“Six. You slept longer than an hour.”

“Hell. I was more exhausted than I thought.”

“You’ve been on a roller coaster the last day and a half, and you needed the rest. Do you want me to make dinner?”

“I appreciate your help, Lia, but wallowing isn’t going to help me in the long run. I need to start moving forward, and that means becoming a productive member of society.” I touch the T-shirt that’s sticking to my chest. “Let me shower, then we’ll figure out dinner.”

“I’m proud of you.” Amelia stands and looks down at me. “Meet in the kitchen in thirty?”

“Twenty,” I say, wanting to take advantage of every second I get with her.

“Bossy.” She tosses me a smile. I’m so pathetic, I think that it could heal me. “Last one there has to pick what we eat.”

My smile matches hers when I say, “Deal.”

“I’m the epitome of a sad twenty-five-year-old man.” I shut the fridge with a groan. “How you were able to whip up pancakes without any real food is truly remarkable.” I open the fridge again and hum. “Hang on. I have a watermelon and a block of cheese. Small victories.”

“It could always brie worse.” Amelia slides onto a stool at the island, and I bark out a laugh at her pun. “You could sleep with your mattress on the floor and really fit the sad boy stereotype.”

“Oh my god.” I shake my head. “I don’t know what’s sadder—that joke, or how many floor mattresses you might have seen.”

“Definitely the floor mattresses.” She smiles and drops her chin in her hand. “How was your shower? You look much better.”

“Cleaning off the sweat, beer, and tears helped.” I lean against the counter and rest my hands behind me. “Any suggestions for dinner? It’s going to have to be takeout, unless you like your watermelon covered in melted cheese.”

“Not on my list of food preferences, if you can believe it.” She wrinkles her nose. “As far as suggestions go, order whatever you’re craving.”

“Are you telling me you’d eat something you don’t like so I’ll feel better? You’re not a pushover, Green. I’m disappointed.” I jump when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, hoping to see an update on Riley, but it’s just another request from a shitty fan-run hockey channel asking me for details about last night. “Assholes,” I grumble.

“What’s wrong?” Amelia drops her gaze to my phone. “Is it Riley?”

“No. Stupid people on the internet who think I’m going to make a comment about my teammate’s injury. The Stars haven’t released a statement yet, but ESPN has been running coverage nonstop since it was leaked that a player was in the hospital. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were people lined up outside our buildings, waiting to get a story they can sell to a gossip site.” I sigh and push my glasses up my nose. “Which means I shouldn’t go outside, and you definitely shouldn’t go outside. The last thing I need is Coach dragging my ass into his office and asking why you’re at my apartment.”

“You’re telling me we’re going to order takeout, eat on the balcony, and shut out the rest of the world?” She grins. “Sounds like the perfect way to celebrate a Stanley Cup champion.”

“You’re being too nice,” I say.

“This is what friends do, Grant. One day when I need you, I know you’ll be there for me.” Amelia taps her phone, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Hurry up and pick something to eat. If not, I’m feeding you cheese-covered watermelon against your will.”

“Now who’s bossy?” I walk to the stool next to her and sit. Our knees touch, but she doesn’t pull away. “Tell me, Green. How are we feeling about burgers?”