O Goalie Night (The Ottawa Otters #1)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

FOSTER

“ W hat do you think I’d look like with a moustache?”

Austin is gazing at himself in the reflective walls of the hotel elevator. He rubs his hand over his bare upper lip like he’s trying to manifest one onto his face.

“A sexual predator,” I answer.

“A nineteen-seventies pornstar,” Ben quips, not looking up from his phone. He’s been on it all day, texting all through the lunch we just had at a nearby sushi place.

“A young Tom Selleck,” Will says and when he notices Ben and I looking at him sceptically he adds, “What? All white guys with moustaches look like Tom Selleck to me.”

“Forget I asked,” Austin huffs. “Speaking of forgetting to ask, I’m still pissed you didn’t invite me to your birthday party.”

Not this shit again.

“It’s been four days, man.” Ben sighs deeply. “You need to move on.” Austin has brought the supposed slight up every day since then and we’re all tired of it .

“Move on from what? From you guys throwing a party and not inviting me. You know how much I love parties.”

“Like we told you the first half dozen times,” Will sighs. “It wasn’t a party. Beth made Ben a late birthday dinner and I happened to be there when she invited him. You weren’t excluded on purpose.”

“I’m just saying, she could have invited me, too.”

“She barely knows you,” Ben says, still frowning at his phone.

Austin licks his lips and grins. “Well, maybe I should get better acquainted with her.”

I wait for Ben to threaten him, but he’s too busy tapping away at his phone.

It is going to be a long week. Still, I’ve looked forward to this stretch of away games more than most. I need some distance from my new roommate. Beth Michaels has been consuming my waking thoughts and, as of last night, my dreams.

I close my eyes and once again attempt to block the image of her kneeling in the middle of my bed wearing nothing but my jersey, but it doesn’t work. Nothing does.

I can’t hold back a frustrated groan. Thankfully, my friends assume it's because I’m frustrated with Austin.

“Anyone want to hang out before the game? I’ve got the new season of Project Gingerbread House downloaded on my laptop.” Will’s favourite show follows a dozen bakers as they compete against one another in Christmas-themed baking challenges.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that,” Austin says disgustedly as the doors to our floor open.

“I’m going to take a nap,” I tell him. Even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t watch holiday reality tv with him on purpose .

“I’ve got to call Valentina,” Ben grunts as he stalks down the hall, away from us.

Will and I exchange concerned looks. Ben’s been in foul humour all week which is unlike him.

“Trouble in Paradise?” Will asks after Ben has rounded the corner. “Has he said anything to you?”

I shake my head. “Not a word.”

“Maybe Valentina’s pissed she didn’t get an invite to the party.”

“For the last fucking time, Austin,” Will moans. “It wasn’t a party. Besides, Ben said she was back in Toronto for work last weekend.”

I’m not sure what’s got my friend surlier than usual, but I wish he’d talk to me about it.

Like you’re talking to him about your problems? I think darkly.

Obviously, his relationship problems and my feelings for his sister are not remotely the same.

So I’ve got a little crush on her. Who wouldn’t? Beth’s beautiful, but it’s more than that. She has this sweet, genuine way about her that I can’t help but be drawn to. And she’s always making me laugh even when I don’t want to.

A week away will give me some much-needed space to get these frequent thoughts and inconvenient desires under control once and for all.

As I enter my hotel room and close the door, the quiet wraps around me like a hug. The noise of my teammates fades away, leaving just the soft hum of the heater and the faint rustle of the curtains as they sway gently against the window. I sink onto the bed, letting the stillness seep into my bones .

A few hours of alone time where nothing is expected of me is exactly what I need before we play Pittsburgh.

I’m about to close my eyes and start my breathing exercises when I get an alert on my phone.

Pulling it up, I see it’s a snowfall warning being issued for Ottawa. Fifteen to twenty centimetres overnight.

Fuck.

That system was supposed to miss the city entirely, but it must have changed course. Now they’re about to get a storm and not only am I away, I haven’t gotten the winter tires put on Beth’s car yet.

I pull up my messages, trying not to read into the fact that I just thought of my Lexus as Beth’s car and type out a message to her.

Foster: They’re calling for a lot of snow tonight.

Beth: I know! 10-15 cm! I’m so excited!

Of course she is.

Foster: 15 to 20 now. The roads will probably be bad

Beth: I’ll drive slowly

Beth: Or I can get an Uber if you’re worried about the car

Of course that’s what she’d think.

Foster: I’m not worried about the car, Bet h

I’m sitting up in bed, pulling up a contact I haven’t used in almost a year, my nap long forgotten.

Even in another country, this girl is driving me to distraction.