Clusterpuck (Vegas Crush #9)

5. He’s Not Even My Type

5 /

he’s not even my type

Lila

My grandfather insisted on hosting a staff pool party at his house, just outside of Vegas. It’s a sprawling, lovely, mid-century modern, single-story-showpiece way too big for just one guy.

Thankfully, the extra space means there’s room for me while I complete my internship. And I get to live with my grandfather for a year, which is the added bonus.

Among the staff who’ve come out, there are a few players who’ve chosen to stick around for the summer. Evan Kazmeirowicz is here, and I can’t stop looking at him and blushing. It’s so stupid because he’s clearly happily married. The way he looks at his wife is like watching a fire erupt. It’s insane. Literally, no one has looked at me like that. Ever.

Of course, his wife, Holly, is perfect. She’s had three babies but she’s still petite and fit, and there’s not an ounce of fat on her. And she’s nice . So sweet and welcoming it makes me feel like a creep for ogling her insanely hot husband.

I’ve heard their love story, and I’m relaying it to Laura as we sit under an umbrella by the pool.

“Holly was brand new in the PR department as the social media manager, and he pursued her hardcore. He was a total playboy before her, and she didn’t want to get hurt. Or so I heard. Plus, there was the nonfraternization policy and some drama surrounding that situation.”

“The policy which I’ve heard no one adheres to,” Laura says.

“I think they do, mostly, but yeah, it’s kind of a joke now since so many players have gotten with staff members. But my grandfather is a romantic, you know? He believes in finding your one true love. And he’s a devout Catholic, so he doesn’t condone sleeping around and whatnot. Old school on that front.”

Laura takes a sip of her blueberry mojito and looks at me pointedly. “Lila, do you believe in true love?”

I let out a chirp of a laugh. “Not really.” I think for a minute and then add, “But then, it’s not in my plan at the moment, you know? I have goals I want to achieve, grad school to get through after this internship, so I’m definitely not looking for Mr. Right.”

“What about Mr. Right Now?” She elbows me, smirking.

“Not him either.”

“Good girl,” she says, taking another sip. “Stay focused. But tell me allllll the stories, please.”

“Um…okay, well, it started with Evan and Holly. And then her best friend Pam came on as a physical therapist. She proposed to Georg in a Playboy Bunny costume, on the ice, at the cup finals.”

“I was there,” says Devon as she takes a seat at our table. “It was quite the scene.”

“And Grant says you two met the night after he interviewed for his job here?”

Devon makes a face. “Yeah, we, uh…”

“Hooked up?” Laura asks.

Devon cringes. “We made a rule that night that we wouldn’t talk about exes or work. So, I never told him I worked here. And then, boom, he shows up on his first day.”

“Awk-ward,” Laura sings.

“Truly,” Devon says. “But it all worked out.”

“With baby twins, too,” Laura adds on.

“Happily ever after for you two,” I say.

Devon smiles and gets a dreamy look on her classically beautiful face. “It really was the most unexpected thing. But you just never know when love will come your way.”

“Not interested,” I say quickly. “But I’m happy for everyone who has made that journey. I love hearing the romantic stories that come out of the team.”

“So, speaking of romantic stories. You started telling me about Pam and Georg,” Laura prompts. “I heard he was an alcoholic.”

“He was,” Devon says, and her tone is protective. “He worked so hard to get sober. Now, he and Pam have adopted two kids. They’re great parents. Great people with a beautiful family.”

During the conversation, Scarlett joins us at the table, adding her story to the mix.

“I thought I heard that Viktor usually spends summers in Russia?” Laura asks.

“Usually,” she says with a sly smile, “But we decided not to travel this summer.” She pats her belly. “Baby number three will be joining our little family next year. This is probably it for us. Three kids in five years is not how I ever imagined my life would go, but I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Congratulations,” Laura says.

“Wow, that’s so great. I’m happy for you both,” I say. “Truly.”

“And I am not drinking the water around here,” Laura jokes.

I look at her and nod. “Agreed.”

“There’s no avoiding it, Lila,” Scarlett says. “I told you that the Crush is a magical place.”

We continue chatting as my gaze roams over to where the few players are standing together. Evan and Viktor are entertaining the two young rookies who looked literally shell-shocked at being in their presence. And there’s Tripp. My heart races a little when I see him, even more so when he notices me looking.

I can’t help it. The guy is so hot. He’s got the George Clooney thing going on with the little bit of gray in his sandy hair. A potential silver fox that will probably gray-out early. Some artful ink on his arms and chest—added to as the years go by—and a short, well-groomed beard that sports a few grays as well. He seriously looks like he should be in a commercial or in a magazine ad for something rugged and outdoorsy.

“Tripp Blackburn could be those kids’ dad,” Scarlett says. “Evan and Viktor too. They’re twice their age.”

“Tripp Blackburn could probably break them in half without breaking a sweat, too,” Laura says. “They are boys. He’s a man.”

There’s nothing inappropriate in her tone. She’s making a statement of truth. But even so, I feel some kind of way knowing she’s noticed him. Which is stupid because he’s not mine, and he never will be. A childhood crush on a guy thirteen years older is like a horror movie waiting to happen. There’s nothing good that could ever come from me holding on to this odd attraction I have to this man. And he’s not even my type, not emotionally or intellectually.

Physically though? Phew. Give me a fan because it just got hot up in here.

“Those boys are so eager over there. Fanboying all over Evan and Vik,” Scarlett says. “It’s adorable.”

“And then there’s Tripp, who looks like he’d literally rather be anywhere else,” Laura adds.

“He came out of the womb a cranky old man. He’s fine, though. He’s been out here to Max’s place many times. I’m sure he feels quite at home.”

“So, you do know him pretty well, then,” Laura says.

“I don’t know him all that well, but our families are old friends. I’ve grown up around him. He’s quite a bit older than I am.”

“And also quite a bit hot.” Scarlett’s appraisal of Tripp standing by the pool in his blue T-shirt and colorful board shorts annoys me even though it shouldn’t.

“I can’t be looking at players like that,” Laura says. “I can’t be gossiping and talking about players like they’re meat. Y’all are a bad influence. Gonna get me fired.”

Everyone laughs and then Devon says, “Don’t worry, I know your boss pretty well. I’ll protect you.”

“And I know the owner personally.” I throw her a wink and a smile.

Laura makes a face and pushes herself up out of her chair. “I’m going to go talk to someone who won’t get me in trouble.”

As she sashays away, Devon says, “I don’t blame her. It’s hard for women to make it on the management side of sports. It’s still such a boy’s club.”

“I think she’s awesome. And there are more women now. It’s been really exciting to see women breaking through those barriers in all sports. The NFL has several women in administration and coaching now. There’s a female GM in the MLB. It’s a different world than just a few years ago.”

“It’s a slightly different world,” Laura says as she plops back down in her seat now with a glass of water in her hand. “There’s still so much garbage thrown at women. To intimidate them. To make them want to step away. It’s like death by a thousand tiny cuts.”

“I get that,” I say. “I’ve heard some dumb stuff come out of guys’ mouths. Including Mr. Blackburn’s over there.”

“Yeah, you said he’s kind of old school in his views about women,” Scarlett says.

“The funny thing is, he’s got a sister who plays for the Women’s Football Alliance. Jenn—a professional football player. Played through high school and college, and she was the only woman on the team both times, but she just kept pushing. And she was really good. Well, obviously, since she got a pro contract.”

“I wonder how family holidays go,” Scarlett muses. “Like, you have this awesome, trailblazing sister, and you’re a sexist caveman who wants women barefoot and pregnant.”

I bristle slightly. I know I complain about Tripp, but I don’t love it when other people join in. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

But I don’t really know, do I? He says a lot of stuff I hate. Sexist stuff that belittles the contributions and abilities of women. Including a few offhanded comments to his sister, who’s built her own professional sports career, just like he has. But he’s not off sleeping around, as far as I can tell, where a lot of the players do. They treat women like sandwiches to be consumed and then forgotten. So, I guess I don’t know if the macho nonsense is for real, or an act, or what.

I think it’s for real, at least mostly. I remember being fourteen, and he was like twenty-seven, and he could make me blush like nobody’s business. He was fit and cocky and making total bank in the league, and I was writing Mrs. Tripp Blackburn and Lila Blackburn in my notebook as if he would ever look my way.

I’ve been around hockey my entire life. I’m not what hockey guys want. I’m a curvy girl with big boobs and a generous rear end . I’m fit, I work out, but I’ll never have the toned body Holly has. I’m tall, but I’ll never look willowy like Laura. I don’t have the striking hair Scarlett has. I’m a plain, curvy girl with hair the color of tree bark. And it’s okay. I came to terms with it a long time ago. Now, I focus on the game, not the players.

“I’m going to run to the ladies’ room.” Standing up, I’m happy to get a mental break from the conversation and from my stupid fixation on Tripp Blackburn.

As I walk by the group of players, I wave. One of the younger ones steps along with me as I head into the house.

“I’m Axl,” he says confidently. “Taxi squad.”

I smile and hold out a hand. “I know who you are.”

He looks pleased with himself. “You do?”

“I work in the GM’s office. Well, I intern there. It’s my job to know who’s on the team.”

“Oh, sure, of course.” Now he looks a little crestfallen.

“You came to Vegas from—was it New Jersey?”

He nods. “I did. Just got here like two weeks ago. So weird.”

“Are you living on your own out here?”

“No, uh, Johnny and I are both staying with a friend of my mom’s. We’ll get an apartment next summer if things work out here. It’s weird, you know, because she’s got like three kids, and we’re just these random dudes living in her basement.”

“I’m sure that is weird. If you’ll excuse me…”

“Can I get you a drink or something?”

“No, thanks. I was just?—”

“Oh, come on, it’s a party.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re not old enough to drink, Axl, and I was just running in to use the bathroom.”

I turn away, but he grabs my wrist. Not hard or anything, but it definitely causes me to stiffen. “Just one drink?” He’s pleading now. “I’d like to get to know you—um—you never told me your name.”

I turn, ready to go off on this kid, but he gets pulled back before I can open my mouth. Tripp is there, hulking out, his face red with anger. “Pretty sure she said no, pal, so piss off.”

Young Axl is clearly outmatched. He says he’s sorry to me, then he says it again to Tripp before stalking off, tail between his legs.

I start to walk away, but Tripp adds, “A thank you might be nice.”

I should thank him, but his tone just sets me off. “For what?”

“For sparing you from that little shit.”

I laugh, high-pitched and a little unhinged. “I can save myself, thank you very much.”

Tripp snorts. “What is it with women these days? You try to do something nice, and they act like you’re the scum of the earth.”

My nostrils flare. “Women these days? Like, from 2024?” I wave him off and head toward my bedroom suite, ready to be done with Tripp Blackburn.

For today, at least.