the deal. He’d stomped to the locker room and yelled at them to man up and get their asses out there. Yeah, they kept playing like shit and losing, but that was not a reason to hide out. Fuck that noise. They got paid the big bucks and they were accountable to the media and their fans and they damn well had to own their shitty play and hold their heads up and talk to people.
Going up to see those sick kids in the suite afterward had chased away his black mood, though. How could you be down when they were so excited to be there, pumped about the game even though the Aces had lost. These kids were battling things way more important than a fucking hockey game. It helped him keep things in perspective as much as it helped cheer them.
Now seeing Lovey perched on a high stool at a table laughing made that hard knot of disappointment in his gut loosen even more. His feet slowed in their progression through the crowded restaurant/bar, and he actually stopped to watch her for a few seconds. She was all bright light and warmth, dazzling him, making him want to go stand near her and see if she could illuminate the darkness that was threatening to fill him up again.
Spouting the same old platitudes to the media was getting painful. Talking to one another after every loss about what was going wrong was excruciating. But she was…radiant.
Then he saw the big blond guy she was laughing with and his gut clenched again. Damn. He forced his feet to move him toward the table, still watching Lovey as she turned to a woman beside her, a pretty brunette, and said something. Then the woman turned to Army, next to her, also said something, and Army burst out laughing.
Army laughing was good. He too had been pretty black in the dressing room after the game, the mood there bleak and quiet. Marc arrived at the big table with people crowded around it. “Hey,” he said.
“Duper!” Stoykers shouted. “At long last you arrive! You the man tonight, Super Duper!” He raised a hand in a high five, which Marc returned with a wry grin and a shrug.
“We still lost.” His two goals were meaningless if it didn’t result in a win.
He accepted congratulations and fist bumps, ordered a beer, then let Army introduce him to Lovey’s friend.
“This is Jillian,” Army said. “Lovey’s lesbian lover.”
Every male head at the table snapped to attention.
Marc’s throat closed up and he wheezed. “Uh…whut…?”
“Yeah, she’s the reason things didn’t work out with Lovey’s ex,” Army continued.
Marc’s mouth dropped open as he watched Lovey slide her arm around Jillian’s waist, lean in, and kiss her cheek.
He swore every guy at the table groaned. Duncan looked strangely gleeful.
What the ever-loving fuck? Lovey was no lesbian, that was for damnfuckingsure.
Or…? No. No fucking way. Marc narrowed his eyes at the two women. But damn, they made a pretty picture together. No wonder every guy was hurting. Fucking hell.
Okay. He needed to stop cursing, get his mind out of the gutter, and drink a beer. Or ten.
Lovey laughed. Her eyes sparkled. She and Jillian exchanged amused glances.
Did Army fucking seriously believe she was a lesbian? Jesus, he was an idiot. Marc shook his head.
Lovey looked at him and their eyes met. Her luminous smile pulled at him and he moved toward her and leaned down to speak into her ear. “Lesbian lover?”
She beamed up at him, eyes twinkling. “You don’t believe it?”
“Not a chance. What the hell is he talking about?”
She rolled her eyes. “He was lecturing me about who I date again, so I told him I was dating Jillian.”
He stared at her for a minute. Then he couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “Christ,” he gasped. He laughed more, then he shifted position to look at Army. “You’re an idiot, man.”
“What?” Army frowned.
“Your sister is not a lesbian.”
“I know that. But these guys don’t.” He gave a satisfied smile. “They’ll leave her alone