Leif
“Wait! You live in Ottawa?” Mia points at Hudson.
He smirks. “Yep. Leif used to be my roommate before he moved.”
“And you’re from…Honey Harbor?” Mia’s forehead wrinkles as she tries to remember where Chris is from. “In Upstate New York.”
“Yes,” he confirms.
“And you’re Minnesotan.” Mia gestures toward me.
“Texas,” Ray provides his home state.
“Jersey,” James tacks on.
Tamara shakes her head. “How do y’all know each other?”
I snort. “College. Same as you.”
“Wait! You all went to U of M too?” Mia gushes.
“Sure did,” Ray confirms.
“Oh my God! It’s like an alumni reunion.” Mia’s wide eyes meet Cami’s. “That’s what we are now! Alumni!”
“Cut her off,” Izzy mutters, flicking her hand in front of her face.
Cami reaches for Mia’s margarita and takes a sip before her friend grabs it back. She winks at me playfully and I’m pinned in place by her blue eyes. Damn, but she’s gorgeous. Simultaneously inviting yet enigmatic. She’s got this pull to her—an energy that hums just under the surface. I want to get tugged into her orbit, even though I have no clue what it will entail. I fight my grin; sure looks like fun though.
One side of her mouth lifts in response and I can’t help but fully smile. There’s that hint of intrigue I want to understand. With light brown hair that hangs past her shoulders, soft bangs—Birkin bangs! My sister Annie’s voice echoes in my eardrums—and dazzling blue eyes, Cami is obviously beautiful, but it’s more than that. And the more is the thing I can’t put my finger on.
I like the sound of her laugh and the easy way she carries herself. Like she doesn’t take herself—or anyone else—too seriously. My family says I’m like that too. And I am, to an extent. But I also only do shit on my own terms.
“What are you doing now that you’re finished with school?” I ask her, more interested than I usually am about a woman I just met.
She sighs and sweeps her bangs to the side, out of her eyes. “Actually, I’m moving. Next week.”
I arch an eyebrow. “New job?”
She wrinkles her nose. “At an accounting firm. It’s an entry-level position, a year to learn the ropes before taking the CPA exam.”
I chuckle. “Is that what you majored in? Accounting?”
Cami nods. Then shrugs. “My parents thought it would be a stable career path for me.”
“Uh-huh,” I agree, narrowing my eyes. “And do you always do what your parents want?” I mean it to sound teasing. Playful. Instead, it comes out with a thread of judgment.
Cami rears back and I mentally swear at myself.
Then, she catches me off guard by laughing. “Honestly? More than I’d like to admit.”
I smile back. I like that she can laugh it off. Roll with it.
“But I went rogue,” she lowers her voice.
I arch an eyebrow, waiting.
“I minored in drawing and painting.”
I tip my head back and laugh. I like that she’s got some spunk. A dash of sass. “So, where are you headed?” I ask, steering our conversation.
“Tennessee.” Her eyes light up at she says it. At least this part, she’s excited about.
I shake my head. “You’re kidding me? Nashville?”
“Nope. Knoxville.” She must note the change in my expression because she tacks on, “Why?”
I stare at her. There’s no way she knows…right? I was traded to the Tennessee Thunderbolts about six months ago, and while hockey fans and enthusiasts know this information, Cami hasn’t given the slightest clue that she recognizes me as an NHL player.
“I live there,” I reply. “Actually, I recently moved there too—about six months ago.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth pops open. Then, another stream of that infectious laughter. “Seriously? That’s amazing! We’ll need to keep in touch.” She whips out her phone and passes it to me. “Here. Give me your number. I’ll hit you up when I’m all settled.”
Behind Cami, I see Hudson trying to hide his laughter. He gives me a look.
Cami has no fucking clue who I am. And I love that about her. About this night.
When was the last time a woman asked for my number in a nonchalant—almost dismissive—way?
Years. It’s been years.
Because now, women clamor for my number and then call incessantly. They all want one thing—access. Access to a person, a socioeconomic level, a professional connection, or a social scene. It’s gotten so out of hand that I rarely give out my personal number.
But for this woman…
I have no idea why, but I program my cell number under the contact name Tennessee and call myself so I’ll have her number too.
She laughs when she sees that I saved my number under the name of the state. Rolling her eyes, she mutters, “I like that you know I’ve got prospects lined up in different area codes.”
I chuckle.
“You can save me under Knoxville,” she advises. “It’s my new chapter so… I’m ready to shed Minneapolis as my identifier.”
I snort. “You got it, babe.” I save her under her preferred location, and we toss back another shot.
Hell, it’s easy. Funny.
Thrilling.
And the night is still early.
From the rooftop patio, we move to dinner. It was supposed to be a guy’s dinner, to celebrate Chris. But with James and Ray hitting it off with Mia and Tamara, and Izzy being an easy conversationalist, Chris changes the reservation without any input from us.
James smacks him on the back in thanks.
Chris is a good guy like that. He’s been with Casey since high school, but he’s always been a solid wingman. He and Casey have one of those relationships we all aspire to have—one where they’re each other’s biggest supporters. One where they are truly best friends, probably because they grew up together.
“Okay, hang on a second,” Chris says as we near the entrance to the steakhouse we’re dining at. “I need a photo for Casey.”
“Aw, she sounds awesome,” Izzy says, huddling in between her friends.
“She’s the best,” Ray admits, meaning it.
We take a group shot and Chris sends it to Casey.
He smirks and flashes me the screen so I can read their text thread.
I snort. Ray is one of the most direct, least subtle men I know, especially when it comes to a woman he’s trying to impress.
A ball wedges itself in my throat as Chris tucks his phone back into his pocket and grips my shoulder. He’s been in love with Casey for years and I couldn’t be happier that they’re tying the knot. But over the past year, my brothers Kingston, Jakob, and Jensen have all met and settled down with their soul mates.
It’s starting to feel like I’m being left behind and, if I aspire to have what Chris and my brothers share with their women, I may be behind forever.
Man, we used to bust Chris’s balls for being so damn into Casey. And now… I shake my head. It’s the type of trust, the same level of respect, I’ve witnessed between my parents my entire life.
It’s the kind of shit I never thought I’d care about and with each passing year, I want it more. Not necessarily the steps—the marriage and the house, the dog and the flower beds—but the person. The one I can count on and confide in. Be honest with. Spend an entire lazy Sunday wrapped up in her world and not feel claustrophobic at the end of it.
We enter the steakhouse and follow the hostess to our table.
I slide into the chair beside Cami’s and catch her eye. She looks hesitant, almost…worried. Dipping my head toward her, I ask, “What is it?”
“Are you sure this is okay?” Her eyes dart around the table, settling an extra beat on Chris. “We don’t want to crash his night or ruin your plans or anything.”
I smirk and shake my head, palming the back of her chair. Even with a couple inches between my fingertips and her back, I can feel the heat of her body. Unable to stop myself, I brush my fingertips over the silky strands of her hair as I lean closer. “Nah, it’s fine. Chris and Casey have been together forever. He didn’t even want a bachelor party, but Casey insisted he do something fun. She called Hudson and me and demanded we take him somewhere.” I chuckle. “Not that we wouldn’t have planned a trip anyway. But he’s cool to just have dinner, toss back a few drinks, and hang out.” As I say the words, I realize the truth behind them.
For Chris and Hudson, this weekend is a chill time. For me, Ray, and James, it’s an opportunity to drink too much and hook up with random women.
I glance at Chris, nodding along with whatever Hudson is saying. They’re perfectly content to step back as their friends try to connect with these beautiful women we just met. They’re in the same world that King, Jake, and Jensen are. Will I ever get to that place? Will I ever find a woman I want to be rooted next to?
“You sure?” Cami asks, turning her neck to face me fully. Her mouth purses like a rosebud and she has a tiny freckle above her top lip, on the right side.
“Absolutely,” I promise.
She bites her bottom lip and a slight blush works over her cheeks. As the wine is poured and dinner is ordered, that blush deepens.
She speaks more freely. I laugh more often.
And by the time Hudson picks up the bill, I’ve got my hand resting on Cami’s thigh underneath the table, her shoulder is leaning into my side, and I’ve never felt more excited about the stretch of hours before us.
For me, tonight is just beginning, and I want all the time I can get with this mysterious woman with the infectious smile.