Page 50 of Never Pucking Ending

My response comes way too quick. “They aren’t dating.”

Jackie Dawson snickers. “Not yet.”

Moskins chuckles.

I flip them all off. “He’s here for work.”

I swear to God one of them goes ‘huh’ in just as much disbelief as I did when I heard the same thing. Because we all know a guy doesn’t bring a girl to a restaurant like this to talk about wood. Not the literal kind anyway.

And that thought makes me mad. So mad that Moskins has to pry my water glass out of my hand and set it down before I break it and slice my palm. Surprisingly, he doesn’t say anything about it. Small miracles.

The hostess seats Belle and Dane across the room at a small table near the window. He’s carrying a bag that he sets on the ground by his chair before sitting down.

It’s Dawson who scoffs. “He didn’t even pull her chair out for her. What a douche canoe.”

He didn’t, and I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed. Yet, it’s Raymond who counters the fact. “If this is just a work thing, he’s not obligated. Do you pull out Coach Hoffman’s chair?”

Dawson throws his balled-up straw wrapper at him. “No, dick. But it’s what gentlemen are supposed to do.”

Raymond makes a thoughtful noise. “Didn’t know you knew what that was. Pretty sure I saw you scratch your balls in public the other day when we were checking into our hotel for the away game.”

Dawson’s cheeks turn pink. “I was adjusting myself. Why were you looking at my dick anyway?”

I tune them out as they continue bickering.

Dane and Belle are talking. Smiling. It’s hard to tell from here, but his smile looks a lot bigger than hers. More genuine. Maybe it’s wishful thinking.

“What’s the move?” Moskins asks after the waitress comes back and asks us for our orders. Only two of us even bothered looking at the menu, so they threw out some random appetizers and told her to come back while we look at entrees.

I hold my menu, pretending to scan it. Then I glance up from the top to check on Belle as if she’ll pull out the bat signal at any second. This is ridiculous and I know it.

I finally turn my head toward him. “There is no move. We’re just…keeping an eye out.”

The snort from him is loud, and I’m pretty sure two of the other assholes I invited also snicker at my reply. Moskins levels with me with arched brows. “Nobody just stalks somebody on a date and does nothing. We’re here to crash it.”

“I—” I start to refute the statement when I stop myself. Because yeah. I’m here to crash it. I don’t have a plan though. “I didn’t really think it through behind getting a table.”

Dawson throws a hand over the top of the booth cushion. “Head is probably an expert in this shit since he’s locked himself away to watch sappy rom coms for the past week.”

Head’s eyes snap over to him. “Fuck off. I haven’t watched rom coms.”

Dawson grins. “Defensive.”

I sigh loudly. “Can you not cause a scene?” I tell them, eyeing the defenders until they quiet down and relent. I notice that only one drink is delivered to their table. Something that looks like a beer for Dane. Belle usually likes wine, so I’m not sure why she’s skipping out. Her favorite thing to pair Italian food with is a Riesling or Moscato.

An idea pops into my head that maybe I’ll look back on and think is petty, but I don’t think about it when I flag the waitress down. I flash her my best smile. “Do you mind sending a glass of Moscato over to that woman by the window? The one in the green sweater with short brown hair.”

Her eyes flicker over to Belle before returning to me. “Sure. Six ounce or nine?”

Once that order is in, along with our dinners, I lean back in my seat. Head and Dawson are grinning now, and Raymond shakes his head with a small smile as I watch the waitress go over to the bar to place the drink order in with the bartender.

“Savage,” Dawson says with an appreciative nod.

Shaking it off, I drink my water and gesture toward Head. “How are you feeling? Did the doctor tell you when you can start PT?”

Head’s gaze drops to his leg, scowling at where it’s extended in front of him. “I’m supposed to start phase one on Monday. They’re telling me I won’t be able to go back for at least six weeks. I’m lucky it wasn’t worse, or I’d be out for longer. They’re saying I could be back in skates around three months.”

We all knew he wouldn’t be playing the rest of the season. Even with our last few wins, it doesn’t look like we’ll get anywhere close to the semi-finals happening in just under two months.