“Solid practice,” Dallas said. He drained the last of his rum and coke and set it on the black laminate tabletop. “Aside from the part where half the team puked in the garbage can at center ice.”

“At least none of us did.” I shrugged, pushing my chair away from the table to stretch out my legs in front of me. My ankle still wasn’t 100 percent going into practice, and it was agonizing coming out. “Plus, by Miller’s standards, only half the team is practically a pass.”

Ty smirked, tipping back his beer. “And you even got a few shots past me during drills for once. Good for you, little buddy.”

“I guess your strategy of flopping has to work sometime,” I said.

“Maybe you should learn to lift the puck.”

“Maybe you should—”

From out of nowhere, a soft hand touched the back of my neck and startled the crap out of me. I jumped in my seat and jerked around to find a pair of blue eyes with heavy eye makeup staring back at me.

“Hi, handsome.” Lindsay slid into my lap, looping an arm around my shoulders. She crossed her legs, causing her very short, very tight black skirt to hike up a little more.

I shifted my weight uncomfortably. Would it be rude to tell her to get off my lap? Diplomacy wasn’t exactly my strong suit. Even if I did mental gymnastics to justify this—like reminding myself that I was still technically single—it felt disloyal as hell.

“Hey.” My voice fell flat. In the background, Ty rolled his eyes and stood up to grab another beer.

“Long time no see,” she said breathily.

Objectively speaking, Lindsay was hot, albeit in a very overt, heavily made-up way. Earlier this year, I made it a mission to hit it and flirted with her like crazy. We did a whole back and forth thing and got pretty close, but it never quite came to fruition.

Despite that, there was zero response in my body to the events that were unfolding now. It was like watching the entire thing happen to someone else.

“Yeah. Been a while.”

“Are we going to pick up where we left off last time?” She bit her lip, tracing a pink fingernail along my chest. “Remember?”

I craned my neck and reached around her for my beer. “Er…no, not really.”

I hadn’t seen Lindsay since sometime this summer. Between hockey, school, and James, it felt like a decade had passed since then. I had no recollection of where we’d left things. I may or may not have been wasted at the time. Odds were, I was.

“About christening the bathroom next time we were here?”

Oh. That.