18. Josie

18

JOSIE

W e all made our way out of the arena to the parking lot, other players from the team shouting at each other. Promises to meet up to celebrate the team's win. The few that passed us slapped Wyatt on the back with wide excited grins. Thankfully no puck bunnies in sight.

Coming up to Wyatt's car, a hand on my elbow drew my attention to Tasha.

"Sorry," Tasha said, shooting me a sad smile. "Just a little work emergency." Tasha didn't even have to elaborate on who she was talking about.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's all good. Will you be okay by yourself?" Her eyes silently communicating with me. Even though I wanted my best friend to come out with us I knew she had something to take care of. Plus, I'd have Mila there and I trust Wyatt despite barely knowing each other.

"I'll be fine." I gave her a reassuring smile.

"Wyatt," She turned to the man by my side. "I'm leaving my best friend in your capable hands, so you'd better make sure she gets home safe."

"You can count on it," Wyatt said without hesitation.

"And you," Tasha turned to me again. "Text me as soon as you get home."

"Will do. Same for you."

After she gave me and Mila a hug, Trevor stepped forward, arms open for one of his own.

"In your dreams." Tasha shook her head at him before heading for her car just a few down.

"You'll definitely be in my dreams tonight!" Trevor called out after her.

"We'll meet you two there." Bryton cut in a moment later. Wyatt gave a nod before putting a hand on my lower back, leading me to the passenger door of his car.

"So where are we going?" I asked as Wyatt drove out of the arena parking lot. "Going to meet up with the rest of the team?"

"Not exactly," Wyatt shot a quick glance at me. "We're just going to a local place we like to go to. It's smaller, quieter. Less…ah…"

"Fans?" I supplied knowing he was talking about the puck bunnies.

"Yeah," he smiled back. "This place we can hear each other speak."

Admittedly, I loved the sound of that, until Wyatt pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a seedy dive bar. I got out of the car, as I looked at the place, suddenly thinking a loud overcrowded sports bar was appealing after all.

"Come on," Wyatt said, taking my hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I promise it looks much better on the inside. We come here to get away from fans."

"Never judge a book by its cover, right?" I joked.

"That's the spirit!"

As he held the door open for me, I was pleasantly surprised that he was right.

While it was a little smaller than some bars I'd been to, I liked the look of it. A long bar took up half the space, lined with barstools. Behind the counter, a man and woman worked, mixing drinks and popping beer bottles for customers. Scattered around the room was a mix of high and regular tables, many of them already crowded with patrons.

Near the back of the room, boisterous laughs and taunts came from around three, huge, pool tables as people played. On the other side, there was a well-worn dance where a few clearly intoxicated people swayed to the music.

The place was busy, but not overly so, as we grabbed ourselves a table.

I wonder if they purposely make the outside look like shit, so it's not slammed with hockey fans since it was just around the corner from the arena.

"Gentlemen!" I looked up as the bartenders waved at us with welcoming smiles.

I guess they come here often.

A few patrons joined in the greeting, but for the most part it seemed like most of the people couldn't give two shits that star hockey players had just walked in the door.

Okay. Now I see the appeal of this place.

"Are you sure you want to stay?" Bryton looked over at Trevor, eyebrows raised. "There's no puck bunnies in sight."

"First off, fuck off. Second, I don't need to go out partying after every single win. The guys will survive without me tonight." Trevor shook his head at his friend. I was surprised the guys would choose this place over a club or somewhere else to celebrate their first win in six games. Trevor was the life of the party and was constantly seen leaving clubs and bars with different women after games.

"Thanks for gracing us with your presence tonight then." Wyatt joked. In return Trevor flipped him the middle finger.

As the three of them joked, Mila butting in a few times, I looked around the bar. I liked the old-school vibe the place had. It's somewhere Dad would have gone for a few beers after work, to talk shit with his friends and play a little pool.

A moment later one of the bartenders appeared at our table. All three guys greeting the guy like old friends.

"What can I get you guys?"

I looked at Wyatt, unsure what to order. "Do you like beer?" he asked.

"Of course," I smiled.

"Are you hungry?"

I nodded, realizing I was ravenous. "I could definitely eat. Whatever you order will be fine." I let Wyatt order for me before the others chimed in with their own order.

As soon as the bartender left to put in our drinks and food Trevor launched into a story about him and Wyatt in Uni.

"So, it's freshman year, and we're literally days away from the draft. This one," Trevor jerks his thumb towards Wyatt. "Decided to get drunk; I'm talking piss drunk. Having practice the next day seemed to have escaped his mind. Of course, Coach went full out during practice, and when I looked across the ice I saw Wy was looking green," Trevor laughed loudly. "Minutes later, as we're in the middle of suicides, he throws up everywhere."

I laugh along with the others, imaging poor Wyatt sick as a dog at hockey practice. Wyatt winced at the memory.

"Bet you didn't drink for a while after that," I teased.

"Was a good month if not more." The look on his face made me giggle.

The bartender showed back up a moment later, filling our table with pints of ice-cold beer and platters of fries, onion rings and sliders. I eagerly grabbed one and bit into it, the beef patty tender and flavorful.

Not bad for a dive bar. No wonder the guys come here.

For the next hour, the five of us sat around drinking, eating and laughing. Trevor telling stories about the three of them and the stupid things they got up to their first few seasons in the league. It was fun learning about Wyatt through the perspective of his best friends. I also learned more about Bryton and Mila.

"Our first date was to a Marvel Convention. Bryton showed up to my place in a Spiderman costume."

"Hey! Come on," Bryton protested, "You're ruining my street cred in front of the newbie!"

"What street cred?" Trevor scoffed. "You've always been the nerd of the group, through and through." We all laughed, though I noticed the way Mila and Bryton gazed lovingly at each other. They were the cutest couple, and more than once, I'd had to look away as they kissed or stared at each other with lovesick eyes, feeling like I was intruding.

"Everyone knows stuff about marvel. Like the game Thor gets addicted to in Avengers: Endgame is Fortnite." Bryton said it so casually like we'd all know that.

"Dude, no one else knows that." Trevor shook his head.

While the two started bickering I turned to Wyatt.

"So, Wyatt Boone was quite the partier in Uni huh." I said with a raised eyebrow, sipping my beer.

"What can I say I knew how to party," he winked.

"Knew? Not so much now?" I teased.

"This is the extent of my partying." He lifted his beer, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Wow."

"What?"

"Nothing," I shrugged. "Throwing up after being really hungover is kinda boring." His eyes widened at my mocking, and I stifled my words with a mouthful of beer.

"Excuse me? What about you Ms. Partier," Wyatt probed as he raised his eyebrows at me. "Anything you want to share?"

"Nope," I said with a grin, grateful that Tasha wasn't there to throw me under the bus.

The stories she could tell about me.

"Nuh uh, you don't get to sit there and judge and not spill a secret." Wyatt shook his head.

"I don't have any party stories," I protested.

"I call bullshit," Wyatt leaned towards across the table. I found myself mirroring the move, ignoring the watchful stares of the others.

"What do I get if I tell you one?" I countered.

God, his eyes are beautiful.

Wyatt was quiet for a moment, and I felt the tension rise between us. In the dim bar lighting it made the contours of his cheeks and jaw even more striking.

He looks good enough to eat.

"I promise I won't laugh." His expression was so serious that I had a hard time keeping mine the same way.

"I don't believe you."

"You'll have to see won't you." The slight challenge in his words had me sitting straighter. Most people think of me as a goody-two-shoes, but for some reason, I felt the need to show Wyatt I wasn't.

"Fine," I conceded, rolling my eyes at his smug expression, though secretly I liked it.

"Do tell," prompted Mila, reminding me that we weren't alone as I turned my head and found three sets of eyes already on me, eyebrows raised. Ignoring the blush warming my cheeks, I took a large swig of my beer before jumping into my story.

"It was my junior year of Uni. Tasha and I decided that since midterms were over, we should celebrate. So along with a few other friends from our floor, we threw our own little party in our dorm room and pretty much got plastered. Someone randomly came up with the idea that we should leave our dorm and go wander around campus in our PJ's," I said, all four of them listening intently.

"Anyways, we are walking around campus drunk off our asses, when someone, I'm not even sure who, decided that we should sneak into the building where the swim team practices."

To this day, I still believe it was Tasha's idea. Back then, hell, even now, she was the one that came up with ideas, or got us into situations that we should definitely not be in.

Honestly, it's a miracle we've never been arrested.

"We snuck inside and headed straight for the pool. Again, since we were severely drunk, we decided to strip and jump in the water. All five of us were swimming around in our underwear, yelling, laughing, and being extremely loud, when suddenly we saw the flashlights of the campus police. We climbed out of that pool so damned fast; we didn't even bother to grab our clothes and booked it out of there so fast." I laughed at the memory.

"There we were, running across campus in nothing but our underwear, laughing our asses off, not really caring that we almost got caught. Anyways, a few days later they announced that only the swim team or those with a special ID could access the swimming area. They even put up a sign asking if anyone knew who was responsible. Of course, none of us said a word to anyone else."

"Wait, that was you!" Mila suddenly exclaimed.

"Hold up, you guys went to the same school?" Bryton interrupted looking between us.

"Honey, catch up. That's old news." Mila waved him off, making me grin at his confused expression.

"For weeks everyone talked about it. We all wanted to know who snuck in," Mila laughed, shaking her head. "Man, that's amazing. They had the pool on lock down for months after that."

"Why do I suddenly have the feeling these two being friends isn't a good idea," Bryton spoke up.

Mila and I shared a grin. "Too late."

I turned to Wyatt with a smug look on my own. "See? Makes your story sound boring by comparison"

"Fine, I'll give you that one," he conceded as he leaned across the table again. My body had a mind of its own as it moved to meet him halfway. A quick glance at the others, I found them deep in conversation, ignoring the two of us. Turning back, I held in a small gasp at how close we were. If I moved just another inch our lips would touch.

"But," The smell of beer and spearmint fanned across my face as he spoke, not entirely unpleasant. "The most important question is what kind of panties you were wearing." That was the last thing I was expecting to come out of his mouth.

My breathing hitched at his tone. It was so low and raspy, like a gentle caress that made the hairs on my arms stand on end. It suddenly felt a little too hot in the bar as he continued looking at me like he was imagining me in just my underwear. That thought alone had me shifting in my seat. Desire in my belly and all I wanted to do was lean forward another inch and press my lips against his.

Just as I was seconds away from doing just that, Wyatt pulled back. He gave me a playful wink before turning to Trevor, starting up a conversation like he hadn't just teased me.

"Care to play a game of pool?" Wyatt slid off his stool, offering his hand. The way he looked at me, with his soft smile, had my insides melting like butter.

There go those butterflies again.

"I'd love to." I placed my hand in his and hopped off my chair. Lacing his fingers through mine, he led me through the small crowd by the bar towards one of the vacant pool tables.

"Just so you know, it's been ages since I've played pool," I confessed. My last recollection was my sophomore year with Tasha at a bar near campus.

"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you," he winked.

"Just let me warm up and I'll be kicking your ass." It was a total lie, but he didn't need to know that.

"Let's see what you've got, lil rebel." He let go of my hand and grabbed two pool cues, handing me one of them. My competitive side reared its head at his words. Holding my pool cue, I grabbed the little chalk cube and walked around the table. I could feel Wyatt's gaze on me as I made a show of rubbing the tip of the stick against the chalk. A new sense of confidence came over me as I leaned one hip against the table.

"Want to break first?"

Thankfully the people who played before us put the balls in the rack.

"Sure," he said as he walked around me, and purposely brushing my back as he passed. I couldn't take my eyes off him as he lined up his cue with the white ball, bending at the waist.

Damn, he looks good.

It was completely unfair. All he was doing was leaning over a pool table, yet it looked like he was posing for a photoshoot. Even through his long-sleeve shirt I could see the muscles in his arms tensing. I was so focused on my ogling that I blanked as he drew his arm back, then drove the cue forwards, hitting the balls with a satisfying clack . The balls scattered across the green felt, and two instantly sank in the far-right corner pocket.

"I'm solid," he grinned.

"Yes, you are," I muttered.

I'm about to make a total fool of myself.

My eyes were glued to him as he prowled around the table. He moved just as gracefully off the ice as he did on it. I looked like a newborn calf compared to him. When Wyatt missed his next shot, I was a little disappointed that it was finally my turn.

Acting like I knew what I was doing, I looked around the table.

It's just like pool on iPhone games, you've got this.

My inner pep talk helped a little as I moved to line up what I thought looked like an easy shot. Cheekily, I made a point of bending over directly in front of him as he stood back and watched.

I could feel those blue eyes on me, and I smirked to myself as I made a show of lining up my shot. As I struck the ball with my cue, it was a bit awkward, but luck was on my side. Somehow, I managed to send my ball directly into a pocket. It took everything I had to refrain from cheering at sinking a ball, pretending not to notice the way Wyatt's eyes followed me around the table.

My next shot I missed.

I didn't mind, because it gave me another opportunity to watch Wyatt. I could always play off that I was watching his ‘technique', and not his rock-hard ass as he bent over.

As we kept playing, the tension between us grew to the point that all my senses were on edge. Every time I bent over, I felt his gaze. Every time he passed by his hand would graze my lower back or the side of my hand. My skin tingled with each touch, wanting more.

When I lined up for my next shot, there were only a few balls left—all but one were mine. I was once again bent over the table when I felt more than just a pair of eyes behind me.

I kept perfectly still as his big, muscular, body descended against mine, gently pressing against my back. Warm breath fanned the side of my neck and cheek sending a shiver along my spine.

"Here, let me show you." His voice was low. Seductive. Strong hands wrapped around mine as I gripped the pool cue.

"Hold it a bit tighter here." His hand squeezed my right one as he instructed. "This is where the power comes from." I was trying my absolute hardest to concentrate on the game and not the dirty thoughts running through my mind.

Stubble tickled my cheek as Wyatt bent his head closer to mine. His left hand gently moved my fingers to where they formed a triangle near the top of the cue.

"Helps you keep the stick in a straight line," Wyatt instructed.

I swallowed thickly at the way his muscular thighs were pressed against the back of mine, gently but firmly. My ass was wedged perfectly against his crotch as he bent over me.

"When you aim, focus on the ball you want to sink in the pocket." The heady scent of his cologne made it difficult to concentrate even more. All I had to do was shift my hips, just a little, and I'd be grinding against him. My cheeks warmed at the thought.

I missed what he said next but nodded like I heard.

"Ready?" His lips were right next to my ear making me shiver again. Not trusting myself to speak, I just nodded.

I love the sound of his voice. I would drown in it if I could.

Wyatt kept his hands on top of mine and helped guide the pool stick back. We held it there for just a second before pushing the cue forward, striking the ball and sinking it in the pocket.

His hands moved from mine, but instead of stepping back, Wyatt placed them on the edge of the table on either side of my hips. His forearms brushed against my waist, keeping me caged against the table.

Not that I'm complaining.

"Good job," he murmured in my ear, the sound traveling down my waist and into my pussy. I ran my teeth over my bottom lip to stop any inappropriate sound from coming out of my mouth. He hardly touched me, yet I was reduced to a panting bitch in heat.

Wyatt remained in place for another moment before he cleared his throat and extracted himself from me. I swore he purposely dragged his forearms up my sides, as the weight of his body against mine disappeared.

I felt the absence immediately as he stepped back. The whimper that left my lips was borderline embarrassing as I straightened, hoping he hadn't heard it. I knew my face was bright red as I cleared my throat trying my damnedest not to appear affected.

But as I glanced over my shoulder at Wyatt, who leaned back against another pool table with his arms crossed against his chest as he smirked, told me I was doing a shit job at it.