After a career-ending fight, ex-professional-hockey-player-turned-Zamboni-driver Chase Cassidy has never looked back at the sport. He's perfectly content cleaning the ice between periods and chatting with fellow staff members, and running a pub outs...
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
Spencer
Chase lets me drive. He's so distraught, he's worried he won't be able to focus on the road. I take the keys and follow him to the truck. It takes about ten minutes to find the bar where Maya and her friends are. Because parking is so limited, I suggest Chase go in and grab Maya while I wait in the loading zone. It's against the law to loiter in a loading zone, but we're well past ten o'clock. No one makes large food or alcohol deliveries for bars so late into the evening, especially on a day like Valentine's Day. Besides, it won't take Chase long. We'll be gone before anyone can issue me a ticket.
While I'm waiting, I tap my fingers against the steering wheel. Going down on Chase gave me an unfathomable amount of energy. It feels like I've consumed too much coffee—my blood is jittery. I could run a marathon across Toronto.
Groaning, I close my eyes and knock my head against the headrest. As soon as Maya is safe, I hope Chase will fulfil his promise. I'm genuinely concerned about her. I'd lose it if someone told me someone drugged Lennon. But horniness is in the air tonight—it's Valentine's Day, for god's sake! So I'm allowed to be a little upset our plans were ruined. Feelings are always a double-edged sword.
Fuck, I need to get laid by Chase Cassidy sooner rather than later.
Pushing my moment of crisis aside, I return my attention to the entrance. Light snow is falling, covering the sidewalks with a thin coat of white. The snow looks magical as it falls through the city lights. Tonight, Toronto's downtown core is rambunctious. There are people in every restaurant and bar. Heels click against the sidewalk while large groups of people laugh, and there are about twenty yellow taxis lining the blocks ahead.
I continue to stare, waiting for Chase to exit with Maya. He was quiet on the drive over. I could feel the anxiety seeping through his pores, along with a touch of anger. I hope he doesn't decide to do anything stupid. I'd love to see him kick the ass of whomever's spiked Maya's drink. However, the consequences would be dire. Chase hasn't confirmed it, but I'm positive he's set on returning to hockey. Starting out with a bar fight on the local news wouldn't be a good start. He's been through enough. It's not in Chase's nature to instigate a fight, but your entire pattern of behaviour changes when your family is at risk.
My fingers continue to tap against the steering wheel. And when I see Chase's hat, and then the two women following him, I breathe a sigh of relief. There are no bruises or blood. While I'm staring at them, my left hand finds the panel on the door. I hit the buttons that control the windows before eventually hitting the button to make sure the truck's unlocked.
When the three of them arrive at the truck, Chase opens the backdoor and helps Maya in. This is the first time I've seen Chase's sister in person. She looks extremely drunk. Her movements are lagging and she continues to loosen a groan every so often. When she's in a sitting position, she drops her face into her hands. Her elbows rest against her knees.
