Dirty Pucker (Denver Bashers #2)

42. Del

Chapter 42

Del

“ F uck yeah, boys! We won!” Theo hollers as he holds up a shot glass at our table at Spanky’s.

We all raise our glasses and shout in celebration.

“Three more wins and we’re one step closer to the Cup!” Theo says.

We all shout and down our shots of vodka. The liquor burns my throat.

Blomdahl winces. “I hate vodka,” he mutters.

“Get used to it because as long as we keep winning, we’re drinking vodka,” Theo says.

Xander nods in agreement. “We had vodka a couple nights ago. It could be our good luck charm.”

Blomdahl makes a grossed-out face.

Xander elbows him and laughs. “Oh, come on. You’ve got your superstitions too.”

“Yeah. We all see the way you feel up the net before every game.” Theo laughs.

Blomdahl frowns at him. “I don’t feel up the net, you dick. I smack my stick against the posts.”

“You run your stick against that net like you’re gonna buy it dinner afterwards,” Xander jokes.

I laugh.

Blomdahl flashes a smug smile. “I gotta be sweet to her. She helps me block goals.”

Xander shakes his head. “The fact that you call the net ‘her’ is wild, dude.”

“You’re not a goalie. You don’t get it,” Blomdahl says.

“Thank fuck. You guys are weird as hell,” Xander says.

Blomdahl sits up straighter in his chair and puffs his chest out. “Weird as hell and proud.”

We all laugh. Soon we drain the pitcher of beer. Theo offers to get the next round. He asks what liquor we want to take shots of.

Blomdahl nods at me. “Let Richards pick. He scored the first goal of the game.”

The guys defer to me.

“Tequila.”

Theo flashes a thumbs up. “You got it.”

“That was a nasty goal, man,” Xander says. “You definitely set the tone of the game. It was fucking awesome.”

“Thanks.” I glance down at my empty beer glass. “It was a team effort though.”

Blomdahl elbows me. “Come on, man. You’re not talking to a bunch of reporters. You don’t have to give the PR-approved answer.”

I let out a breath. “Okay, fine. It felt really fucking good to be the first one to score.”

Xander smacks my back. “Atta boy.”

I laugh.

“I’m gonna score before you do in game two though,” Xander says to me.

His expression is serious, but I can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s not pissed. Just competitive. We all are. That’s why we all play hockey for a living.

“No way. First goal of game two goes to me,” Theo says right as he returns with a handful of shot glasses and a bottle of tequila.

I laugh. It feels really damn good to be at this point with my new teammates. On the ice, we work together to do whatever it takes to win. Off the ice, we can joke and laugh and be cool with each other.

I never thought that would happen when I joined this team. But it’s happening right now.

While Theo pours us all shots, Sam walks up to our table. We all stand up and greet him. His team didn’t make it to the playoffs, so he’s done for the season and is visiting his sister in Denver.

Xander moves a chair over, and Sam takes the chair next to me.

“Congrats on the win, fellas,” Sam says.

“Did you catch the game?” I ask.

“Yeah, I managed to get a pretty decent seat at the last minute.” He thanks Theo when he hands him a shot glass. “You guys were fucking on fire tonight.”

We all tell him thanks. Just then I spot Ingrid, Dakota, Maya, and Sophie walking into the bar and toward our table. We all stand up and shuffle around to make room for them.

As Ingrid walks over to me, I gaze at the Bashers jersey she’s wearing. Satisfaction pulses through me at seeing her wear my number.

She smiles at me and gives me a quick kiss before leaning over to loop her purse strap over her chair. I zero in on my last name across her back.

That satisfied feeling intensifies.

That’s my name and my number on her body.

I think back to that moment during warmups when I saw her sitting in the stands, wearing my jersey.

I think about that teasing smile on her face, like she was so excited to surprise me. I think about that sexy-as-hell look she gave me when she turned around to show me the back of her jersey.

My dick twitches in my pants.

Yeah, it’s the most cliché thing in the world for me to get turned on when I see my girlfriend wearing my jersey. But I don’t care. It feels like she’s showing the whole world who she belongs to. And that’s hot as fuck.

We sit down and she looks at me, that teasing smile playing across her plump lips.

“So you liked my surprise?” she says in a soft voice.

“Fuck yeah, I liked it.” I rest my hand on her hip, pulling her closer to me.

She giggles, then leans closer to whisper into my ear. “You’re gonna love what I have planned for later tonight.”

Excitement flickers in my chest. “What do you have planned?”

She flashes a gorgeous grin. “It’s another surprise.”

The sound of everyone laughing pulls us out of our conversation. We look across the table and see everyone looking at Blomdahl and Sophie. He’s grinning. Sophie is looking at him, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Wait, you lick the bottom of your stick before every game?” she asks.

He nods. “Yup. It’s for good luck.”

She chuckles and shakes her head. “Goalies are so weird.”

“What other weird stuff do you do?” Dakota asks.

Blomdahl shrugs. “I’m not that weird.”

Xander and Theo laugh into their drinks.

Blomdahl rolls his eyes at them. “I do the stick thing. I do the net thing that I mentioned before. And I skate ten circles around the net during warmups. That’s everything.”

Xander raises his eyebrow at him. “That is not everything.”

Blomdahl looks at him with an unreadable expression.

He frowns at Xander. “I only do that at home games,” he says, his tone defensive.

Everyone looks at Blomdahl, waiting for him to explain what he means, but he doesn’t.

“Do what?” I ask.

Xander starts to laugh. Blomdahl downs more tequila.

“Blomdahl used to need to get laid the night before every game,” Xander finally says.

All the guys chuckle, along with Ingrid and Maya. Dakota is smiling, mouth open in surprise. Sophie’s cheeks turn bright red. Xander leans over and kisses her.

Blomdahl tugs a hand through his wavy blond hair. “What? It helps me focus.”

I shake my head. “I just wanna say, as the guy you now share a hotel room with, thank you for not doing that when we’re on the road.”

Everyone cackles. Blomdahl flashes a thumbs up.

I wonder if Blomdahl is in a relationship. He hasn’t mentioned a girlfriend, so I assumed he was single. Maybe that means he only does hookups.

Whatever, it’s not my business. He can do whatever he wants.

We all finish our drinks and I offer to grab the next round. I stand up and walk over to the bar to order. A second later, I see Ingrid walk over to the other side of the bar and grab some napkins out of the dispenser. She smiles at me. I smile back.

I tell the bartender my order. As I wait for him to make the drinks, I spot an empty tray at a table off to the side of the bar. I walk over to grab it so I can carry all the drinks back at once.

Behind me, I hear a guy say, “Ingrid? Is that you?”

I glance over just a few feet away to where Ingrid is standing. There’s a guy in a dress shirt, tie, and trousers standing in front of her.

She blinks at him, clearly surprised to see him. “Kyle. Hi.”

Kyle. Her ex. The asshole who didn’t defend her when his friends made fun of her.

Anger flares up inside of me. The urge to walk over to him and tell him what a piece of shit he is hits me.

But I hold back. I don’t want to barge in on their conversation, like some jealous psycho boyfriend.

“Weird seeing you after all this time,” Kyle says. “What’s it been, like, six months?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Kyle looks down at her jersey. “I didn’t know you were a hockey fan.”

“I just recently got into it.”

He’s still looking at her jersey. “Is Del Richards your favorite player?”

She flashes a knowing smile. “Yeah.”

Her ex frowns. “Really? He’s a pretty dirty player. I’m surprised you like him.”

I hold back a laugh.

“He’s a pretty great guy once you get to know him.”

Her ex looks confused. “You know him?”

“Yeah. I work for the Bashers now. I do their social media.”

The guy’s eyes go wide. “You do? Seriously? Wow. That’s actually pretty cool.”

This fucking guy. The surprise in his tone is fucking insulting. Like he’s shocked that Ingrid could have a job like that. Of course she can. She’s amazing. She could have any job she wanted. But he’s too much of a dipshit to realize that.

She looks at him, her expression reading, “Is this guy for fucking real?”

“Yeah. It is pretty cool,” she says. “Well, it was nice running into you, but I’d better get back to my friends.”

She starts to walk off, but Kyle stops her. “Hey, wait a sec.”

Ingrid sighs like she’s annoyed, but she turns back around to him.

“You wanna maybe get a drink?” Kyle asks.

She laughs like she’s annoyed and surprised at the same time. “You’re kidding.”

He flashes a smug smile. “It would be cool to catch up.”

“I’m not interested.”

She tries to walk off again, but he catches her wrist. “Oh come on. Not even for old time’s sake?”

She glares at him. I zero in on his hand wrapped around her wrist.

This fucker.

She slides out of his hold. “Kyle, I’m not interested in doing anything with you ever again.”

He leans back, like he’s offended. A second later, he smirks at her.

“I see. You’re seeing someone.” He steps closer to her. “It’s okay. It’s only a drink. Your new guy doesn’t need to know about it. Or anything else that we might get up to.”

She glares at him.

Anger sparks inside of me like a bonfire. This piece of shit.

Ingrid made it clear she’s not interested in him anymore, but he’s pushing her, refusing to take “no” for an answer.

Fuck this asshole.

I round the corner of the bar and walk over to them. Ingrid’s glare disappears. She flashes a soft smile at me.

I stand next to her and look at Kyle.

He frowns at me, clearly confused about why I’m here. But then he blinks and recognition flashes in his eyes.

“Oh damn. Del Richards.”

“Yup.”

He looks at Ingrid’s jersey, then at me again, finally putting it together. He blinks and makes a flustered laughing sound.

He tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Sorry, I, uh…I didn’t know you two were, um…”

“Can you read?” I ask.

His brow furrows in confusion. “Uh, yeah.”

“What does her jersey say?”

His eyes go wide for a moment before he glances at her. When he looks back at me, his face is red, like he’s embarrassed. “Number sixty-six,” he mutters.

“That means she’s mine. So back the fuck off.”

He stumbles back and holds up both hands, like he’s surrendering. I loop my hand in Ingrid’s and lead her back to the other side of the bar. I spot our drinks on the bartop. I drop cash for the bartender’s tip and set the drinks on the tray. Together we head back to our table.

When we sit back down together, I turn to Ingrid.

“Sorry, I know that was some caveman shit that I pulled just now?—”

She grabs my face and kisses me. Our whole table whistles at us. I can hear my sister and Theo groaning in disgust.

Ingrid pulls away, breaking our kiss. Her eyes are fiery as she gazes at me. “Don’t be sorry. What you did was insanely sexy,” she says in a soft tone that only I can hear. “When you finish your drink, I need you to take me back to my place and fuck me.”

My dick is aching in my pants. I grab my shot and down it. I slam the empty glass on the table. I grab Ingrid’s hand and stand up.

“We’re headed out,” I announce.