Seduced by the Game (62 page)

“Hi. That’s
twenty-two dollars.”

“Hi yourself.”
Keith handed her thirty. “Keep the change.”

“Yeah?
Thanks.” She was turning away when Keith lightly grabbed her arm. She turned
back to him and asked, “Did I forget something?”

“No. I was
just wondering what your name was.”

“It’s Kelly.
But save your breath. It’s nothing personal, but I don’t date hockey players.”

Ah, she
knows who I am.
“But you’re a fan? You must be, otherwise you wouldn’t know I was
a hockey player.”

“I’m a huge
hockey fan. Best sport on Earth. Well, good luck, Lambert. Welcome to San
Diego.”

Keith laughed
out loud. “Yup, you’re a hockey fan. I swear, as soon as someone puts a jersey
on, they lose their first name.”

The sound she
made was melodic. Her soft laughter was reminiscent of wind chimes, and he
wanted to hear it again. “I guess that was rude. Sorry, Keith. I just get tired
of being hit on. I shouldn’t have assumed you were doing that. Forgive me?”

“Of course.
But there’s nothing to forgive. I was absolutely going to hit on you, but you
blew it. See you around.” He winked at her before turning around and walking
away.

He could still
hear her tinkling laughter as he pushed the button on the elevator. Take out
might have to become a weekly event. Maybe even biweekly.

Chapter 4

“Hello?” When
the phone rang, Keith was sitting on his balcony drinking an iced tea and
thinking about how lucky he was to be able to afford such a place. His ocean
view was spectacular; however, he couldn’t help but wish he had someone to
share it with. He was lonely. Flirting with Kelly, the delivery girl, was fun,
but he still missed Phoebe. Or at least he missed the idea of Phoebe. He was
beginning to think that maybe he didn’t love her quite as much as he had
thought he did. Memories were creeping into his mind more and more of how she
had constantly needed him to buy her things and the way she coerced him into
using his name time and time again to get the best tables at restaurants and
tickets to events. It bothered him then but it was easier to go along with her,
so he never said anything.

“Hey, Keith.
It’s Vlad Bejsiuk, your goalie. Hope you don’t mind, Coach gave me your
number.”

“Hey, Impaler.
I don’t mind at all. I’m looking forward to meeting you guys.” Vlad’s nickname,
The Impaler, came from sharing a name with Vlad Dracula. Lucky him.

“We are, too.
I have to say, it’ll be nice not having to face that wicked wrist shot of yours
anymore, although I don’t think you’ve ever scored on me, have you?” Vlad’s
gentle ribbing gave Keith a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah. I
was taking it easy on you. Maybe I’ll show you what I’ve really got in
practice.”

“Bring it on,
Captain.”

Silence hung
in the air for a couple of seconds. “Yeah, about that. You really think the
guys are okay with me being brought in as the captain?”

“Yeah. I do.
Marcoux wanted it for all of about twenty seconds, but when we discussed you,
we all knew it was the right thing to do. You’re a natural leader. We’re going
to miss Scott, but that’s the nature of the business. It’s done and we’re ready
to move on.”

In the time
Keith had to think about the trade, and analyze it, he came to the conclusion
that it might really work. He’d researched the Scorpions in the previous weeks,
and he did believe they needed a strong leader—he knew he could be that person.
“I’m glad to hear that. I have some ideas, but I’ll ease into them. I’ll have
to see if they fit the personalities and playing styles anyway.”

“If you don’t
mind a bit of advice, I’d come in with that attitude right there. Don’t come in
apologizing for being picked to lead the team. Those boys, especially the young
ones, will respond much better to confidence than they will apologies.”

“So what makes
you so insightful, Vlad?”

Vlad laughed.
“At thirty-six years old, I’m the old man on the team. I’ve been around a
while. And while you kids are out partying, I’m just watching and learning.”
Vlad actually had a crush on the Scorpion’s sports psychologist, Zoe Millis,
but that wouldn’t ever come to fruition. There was a strict no-fraternization
rule between the team’s doctors and the players. Even though he knew he
couldn’t have the one he wanted, he wasn’t interested in dating a different
girl every week.

“Well, I might
just be hanging back with you. I’m not interested in the partying lifestyle
right now either.” Twenty-two years old was still in the partying age bracket,
but he already felt he was over that. He wanted a relationship with loyalty and
honesty. Just one girl.

“Girl
problems, huh? Yeah, a lot of us have them. Anyway, a bunch of us are meeting
up at the Irish Pub on the beach. You interested?”

“Hell yeah.
I’m going out of my mind here. I don’t think I was meant to be alone so much.”
Keith couldn’t pull of the casual laugh he was going for. Even to him, it
sounded forced. He sincerely didn’t like being alone.

“I get it,
man. It’s hard leaving everything and moving so far away from home. Shit, I’m
from the Ukraine. I understand all about being away from home.”

“You know, I
guess I should have figured that with a last name like Bejsiuk, but you kind of
sound British.”

“My mother’s
English, my father’s Ukrainian. Interesting combination, isn’t it?”

“Sure is.
Okay, so what time are you meeting at the pub? And where the hell is it?” Keith
didn’t have the lay of the land yet. That would come with time.

“Why don’t I
swing down there and get you in an hour? I actually live in the same building.
I’m on the top floor.” Vlad lived in one of the spacious penthouses with an
entire wall made of glass, giving him an outstanding view of the ocean. At
night, the view was even more spectacular with the reflection of the moon
hitting the water.

“Oh, cool. All
right, that sounds good. See you in a while.” He ended the call feeling good.
Finishing his iced tea, he went back inside to shower and throw on some clean
clothes.

* * * *

The entire
beach area where the pub was located was packed. There were other restaurants
on the strip, along with ice cream shops, pizza joints, caramel corn stands,
and an array of beach-type shops where you could buy clothes, surfboards, or
even a Jet Ski. Vlad drove, since Keith’s car wasn’t due to be delivered until
the following day, but as he kept searching for a parking spot,
anywhere
in the vicinity of the pub, he wished they had walked the mile or so from their
building.

“Holy shit. Is
it always like this?” Philly could get crowded at night when it was nice out,
especially on South Street, but it was nothing like this.

“Pretty much.
Not in the winter so much, but this isn’t even as crowded as it gets. We’re
getting toward the end of our heavy tourist season, but the water’s still warm
and the temperatures during the day are damn near perfect. I love it out here.
Crowds and all.”

They finally
found a spot to park in after circling the block a few times. Keith got out of
Vlad’s car and stretched. “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you drive this
thing?”

Vlad groaned.
“Aw, man. Not you too. Come on, this girl’s a classic.” He ran his arm lovingly
along the rusted roof of his ‘69 Camaro. “I’m still working on her. I want to
restore her myself, but I’m starting to see the value of letting an auto shop
do some of the engine work. I probably could have gotten her pretty much done
this summer, but I spent a lot of time on the beach after I came back from
visiting my family. Just lazy this year, I guess, but when I’m done with her,
she’s gonna purr like a kitten and roar like a lion. You’ll all be apologizing
to her then.”

Keith held his
hands up in surrender. “Hey, I meant no offense. Sorry, man. She’s, ah, great.”
He shook his head as a laugh escaped him. What a rust bucket! He thought the
thing was going to stall out every time they stopped for a red light.

Vlad flipped
him off. “You’ll see.”

Inside, the
pub was as packed as the parking situation suggested. There wasn’t a stool to
be had at the bar, and the high tables scattered throughout the area were
surrounded by loud, boisterous people having a good time. The energy flowed all
around them, making Keith even more pleased that he was out of his apartment
for a while and in the presence of other people.

Fighting their
way through the crowd, heads down, Vlad led him to a door in the back, next to
the bar. “Come on. We have a private room back here.”

The first
thing Keith noticed when he stepped through the door after Vlad was a banner on
the wall. It was homemade and simply said, “Welcome to the team.”

“Our captain’s
here, guys!” That said, Vlad walked over to the much smaller bar in their room
and grabbed a couple of beers, handing one to Keith.

“Hey, man.
Nice to meet you.” Brandon Marcoux shook Keith’s hand and moved aside so that
the rest of the guys could welcome him.

Landry “Ace”
Hawthorn sauntered over to him, and Keith could tell right away that he was a
player. Ace shook his hand and pounded him on the back. “Did the old man tell
you about the beach party yet?”

“Old man.”
Nice. “No, what about it?”

“We’re having
a big bash on the beach the Saturday before the first preseason game. Everyone
will be there. The players, the office staff, wives, their brats—everybody. The
chicks bring lots of food, and the men grill burgers and stuff. We have
horseshoes and volleyball—man, there are tits and ass everywhere. Easy pickings
after drinking all day too. I usually go home with a blonde
and
a
brunette. Getting laid doesn’t get any easier. You don’t want to miss it.” He
gave him another slap on the back before he made his way out the door, back
into the main part of the pub.

“What the fuck
was that?”

“
That
,
my friend, is my backup goalie. He’s annoying as hell, but great in the net. He
just needs a little fine-tuning—and a lobotomy. Kid’s got no filter. It’s
landed him in trouble once or twice too. He even spent a night in jail after a
barroom brawl a year back. Seems to be a theme here. Every backup goalie I get
is a young shit with a ton of attitude. And they don’t last long.”

“Damn. He’s
like a tornado. A womanizing tornado.” Keith was laughing as he looked over
toward the door, seeing Ace coming back in with a girl on each arm. “Works
fast, doesn’t he?”

“You have no
idea.”

The rest of
the night passed quickly, and by midnight Keith was more than a little buzzed.
At his suggestion, they made their way out to the main bar since the crowd had
thinned out considerably. He liked to make himself and his teammates just a
little bit available to the public when he was comfortable doing so. It did a
lot to promote goodwill with the fans, and only cost the players an hour or so
of their time.

“Great idea,
man. You’ll be a fan favorite in no time.”

Still feeling
good, Keith swung his arm around Vlad. “Vlad, my man, I have a few good ideas
here and there. Of course I have some bad ones too. For example, it would a bad
idea to take that little filly home with me tonight, right?” It was the red
boots that caught his eye. She was a redhead, wearing a denim skirt, a frilly
white tank top, and red cowgirl boots. From the way she was undressing him with
her eyes, he knew she’d be willing. “Fuck, I’m horny. Twenty-two-year-old guys
aren’t meant to go for so long without sex.”

“Hey, man. I’m
not your father. You do whatever you want. You’re feeling good, but to the best
of my knowledge, you’re not shitfaced. I’ll drive you both home if that’s what
you decide to do. Why don’t you go chat her up?” Vlad disentangled himself and
pushed Keith toward the girl in question.

“Hey,
Lambert.”

Hearing
himself addressed like that by another lovely woman had him laughing. “And
again, the athlete loses his first name. What’s your name, baby?”
Did I
really just call her baby? This is so not me. Aw, fuck it, live on the edge,
man!

“You can call
me Pip. My real name’s Penelope, but I go by Pip. So listen. I’m just going to
put this out there. I think you’re hot, and I’m looking for some
earth-shattering sex. Tonight. With you. Are you interested?”

“Wow. You are
direct, aren’t you? I know I should immediately say yes, but to be honest, it’s
not my style.”
Wait, isn’t this exactly why I walked over here?

“I know. Or at
least I know you’ve never been in the tabloids. It’s kind of why I picked you.
I’ll be gone for a while and I’m a good girl. I want one night. I want to be
the bad girl. But it
is
only one night I’m offering.”

Something was
holding him back. She really did seem like a good girl. It felt wrong. “Gone?
What do you mean? Are you going to jail or something?”

She laughed at
that. “No, nothing bad like that. It doesn’t matter where I’m going. So, are
you interested or not?”