Page 68 of Offensive Plays

I shake the thought from my head.

“Would you ever want kids?” Izzy asks. “If the right guy came along?”

I laugh, “Hell no. I’m programmed for Crazy aunt life. You guys can count on me to spoil all your little offspring because I will not be having any of my own. A career in modeling doesn’t really lend itself to kids.”

Even as the words leave my lips I realize that it must’ve been my own mother’s belief since she left us for that very reason.

I swallow hard and focus on the ice, where the Heatwave now have control of the puck.

“Well, you never know,” Izzy says, capturing some closeups as they skate toward us.

You never know.

Chapter 19

Michael

“We’re in Vegas, Fergie. You can’t just bail. We got a limo, for god’s sake,” Hicks pleads with me and motions toward the stretch Hummer parked in front of the hotel.

We won the game, which means the Heatwave players are ready for a celly night. And we’ll be in Vegas for three more nights before we need to fly back to Texas for game three of the series.

“I don’t know, man.”

A group of our people stroll out from the hotel lobby hooting and hollering.

“Fergie’s not coming,” Hicks announces.

“The hell he isn’t,” Landry says. “Fergie, get your ass in the limo. We’re celebrating. You made the game-winning shot, you gotta go.”

“I’m seriously so tired,” I say, hoping they get the picture.

“Alright, I never thought it would come to this. But you leave me no other choice. Rookies!” Hicks calls out.

Trevor Sincaid and three others pop their heads out from the crowd of players.

“Sequester our starting right-winger,” he says with a finger pointed in my direction.

“You can’t use the rookies to do your—“

In seconds, I’m being hoisted up into the air. “Put me down, you idiots.”

“No can do, Fergie,” Sincaid says. “We need you.”

“Yeah, you’re the only sane one,” one of the others says.

“Hicks! Tell them to put me down, I’m not going.”

“Into the limooooo,” Hicks yells out in the same way a mad queen would’ve said Off with their heads.

The limo doors swing open and the rookies toss me inside just as my teammates pile into the extended Hummer.

“This is ridiculous,” I shout out. “I’m not even dressed.”

“It’s Vegas, Fergie. Nobody cares,” Ryker says, clambering in.

“Where the hell are we even going? Please for the love of all things holy don’t say a strip club,” I cross my arms over my chest.

Libby might not be attached to me but if she found out I left her hanging for a strip club… I can just kiss our little arrangement goodbye.