Status update: I still hated clubs. So far, I was seriously underwhelmed with this XS joint. It was cramped, humid, and the DJ sucked. The beers were ridiculously overpriced, too. $15 for domestic? Fuck off.

Of course, the only reason I was here was because we pulled off a shutout against the Bulldogs earlier. That did take the edge off my current level of irritation slightly. Seeing the look of defeat on Callingwood's faces as they left the ice was damn near priceless. Suckers.

But since arriving, the only interesting thing that had happened was meeting that feisty blonde chick from their school. That didn't pan out, but I had other options. Now I was thinking it was time to call it. I was too sober for this scene.

"You played amazing tonight," the short blonde next to me said, batting her eyelashes. She straightened her shoulders, sticking out her chest to draw attention to her plunging lace V-neck dress and the plump cleavage it contained.

I was sure she knew next to nothing about hockey. She probably wasn't even there. But my game was on point tonight, so in this case she guessed correctly.

"You a big hockey fan?"

She nodded. "Love it."

"Tonight was tough, huh? We almost went into extra innings," I said. "It was close until we got that last touchdown."

"Totally," she said, making a pouty face. "I'm so glad you won."

See? She didn't know shit about hockey.

And people think I'm the superficial one.

"Do you want to get somewhere quieter?" She asked.

I think her name was Mandi. Or maybe Brandi. She was wearing entirely too much makeup, to the extent that it would probably rub off all over my sheets later. But she was cute enough and she seemed like she'd be enthusiastic in the sack so, why not.

"Uh, yeah. Hang on." I looked over her shoulder for Dallas and Tyler but couldn't find them in the crowd. Whatever, I was leaving with or without them.

Mandi/Brandi stroked my arm with her long, pointy red nails. "Sure." Her hands were fucking freezing. I hoped they'd be warmer before they got to my junk.

Before I could open my mouth to say anything further, a soft, warm hand landed on my other forearm, voice sugar-sweet.

"There you are."

I glanced over to my left, gaze landing on my failed pickup attempt from earlier, who had reappeared out of nowhere. Long, honey-colored hair, a smattering of freckles along her nose, and eyes that were this crazy hazel-green that I couldn't even begin to describe.

Callingwood.

Our eyes locked and she looked at me expectantly. "I've been looking everywhere for you." She tucked a lock of caramel blonde hair behind her ear and gave me a familiar smile, like we were much more well acquainted than we really were.

Mandi stepped aside, withdrawing her hand with a frown. "Is this your girlfriend?"

"Sure. Let's call it that." Callingwood smiled, shooing Mandi away like a pesky animal. She had a good six inches on Mandi, which really added insult to injury.

"Seriously?" Mandi glared at me. "You're an asshole. Good luck with this one, sweetie." She huffed, spinning on her red stiletto heel and disappearing into the crowd.

Well, so much for having options.

"Um, hi?" I turned to Callingwood, giving her a funny look.

What the fuck? Did she come back specifically just to cockblock me?

I wasn't sure whether she had changed her mind or was simply hell-bent on ensuring I went home alone tonight.

Unfazed by my lukewarm reception, she gestured to her friends from earlier. "Zara and Noelle, you remember Carter. I mean, Chase. Chase, this is Zara and Noelle. I'm sure you have some cute friends to introduce them to, right?"

Right. Between the three of them, it was like a trifecta of gorgeous girls. My friends would be all over it. Zara was curvy, with long, reddish brown hair nearly down to her waist. And Noelle was more angular, with a short black bob and golden tanned skin. Both very attractive, objectively speaking, but Callingwood was by far the hottest.

"Sure." My eyes stayed fixed on her. "I appreciate the introduction, but I still haven't caught your name."

I was part-irritated, part-intrigued, and wholly hoping I could still close this. I liked the challenge, because I was dysfunctional that way.

Zara laughed, fluffing her long auburn hair. "I don't know why she's being so mysterious. Her name is Bailey."

Bailey. It didn't ring a bell. But her face definitely did. I couldn't quite put my finger on why, and it was driving me crazy.

"Do you have a last name, Bailey? Or are you just a one-name wonder like Madonna?"

Bailey looked away, taking a sip of her drink. "James."

Like Derek James, D-man for the Bulldogs? Holy shit. That's why she said she hated me earlier. There was no shortage of bad blood there.

"Is Derek your brother?"

"Yup," she said.

"Ah." I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral.

This was quite the plot twist. Derek was a fairly average-looking dude; a little gangly, nothing to write home about. But his sister was a fucking dime. Athletic but curvy, with enough to grab onto. Tall, too—in her heels she wasn't much shorter than me and I was 6'3".

I was into it. Fully.

Noelle leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Bailey is single and ready to mingle. Newly single as of yesterday, in fact."

Bailey shushed her, cheeks reddening. "We don't need to talk about that."

"What?" Zara shrugged. "It's Luke's loss."

Luke... Luke. Then it clicked. Bailey was Morrison's girlfriend. Or ex-girlfriend, it would seem. Now I knew why she looked so familiar. I'd probably seen her at games in the stands before.

But she was cheering for the wrong side.

"He's an idiot, right?" Noelle chimed in, nudging me.

"Definitely," I agreed. On both parts, actually—it being his loss and his status as a total fucking idiot. Emphasis mine. Luke Morrison was the worst kind of hockey player; one who takes cheap shots and won't answer for them later.

"Hey, fucker. I thought you might have left." Tyler strolled up, holding a drink in each hand. One wasn't for me. He was just double-fisting.

"This is Bailey, Noelle, and Zara." I gestured to each with my beer. "And this is Tyler, one of our goalies."

"Nice to meet you." Tyler flashed them a grin. He sidled over to Zara and Noelle, ushering them a couple steps away and striking up a private conversation between the three of them.

I guess he'd seen me talking to Bailey earlier and already done the math on that. He was a damn good wingman, but that wasn't what I needed at the moment. I wasn't sure what I needed, actually.

I returned my attention to Bailey and she batted her eyelashes, waiting for me to speak. She was fucking gorgeous—in the kind of way where you knew she'd still be gorgeous the morning after.

Not that it mattered, because I didn't do sleepovers.

After decimating their team tonight, hooking up with her would add major insult to injury. Unless I was looking to pave the way for a full-on line brawl next time, I knew I should run in the other direction and never look back.

But I'd never been good at doing what I was supposed to.

"Do you want to go dance?" I asked.

"Let's get a drink first."

I glanced down at my full beer and her still half-full drink, but decided better than to argue. After the chilly reception I'd initially received, she'd warmed to me for some reason and I wasn't going to ruin that.

Bailey grabbed me by the hand and turned, threading her way through the crowd as I trailed behind. We squeezed through a group of people clustered in front of the bar. She stood up on her tiptoes and leaned over the counter, looking for the bartender. Her miniskirt rode up, revealing her long legs, defined calves, and did I mention legs for days? I was a leg man, and hers were fucking phenomenal. I wanted those legs over my shoulders.

She was hot as hell.

Unfortunately, after seeing how unsteady she was walking over to the bar, I had a feeling she was drunk as hell, too.

"So...." Bailey turned back to face me, stepping closer. And, yup, her eyes were glassy. She traced a slender finger down my torso, coming to a halt just above my jeans. "Does your offer from before still stand?"

I wished I could say yes. I really, really did.

"That depends," I said, studying her. "How drunk are you?"

I had some hard limits—like taking advantage of drunk girls. And I had a feeling she was well past the point of tipsy.

She made a face like I'd just insulted her. "What, are you gonna breathalyze me?"

"Should I? You seem pretty wasted."

"Maybe a little." Bailey swayed on the spot, confirming my suspicions that she was significantly more intoxicated than during our earlier encounter.

Grabbing the edge of the bar, she braced herself, looking down at the counter. "Okay, maybe more than a little. That last shot is hitting me hard."

"Do you want some water?"

"No, I think I want to leave." Her pretty lips folded into a frown. "I'm getting tired."

Pretty sure "tired" was code for the spins, but I wasn't rude enough to call her out.

"Your friends look a little occupied." I nodded in their direction, where Tyler and Zara were dirty dancing in the corner of the dance floor, accompanied by Noelle and our third-line center, Graham. "Should I go break it up so they can leave with you?"

Bailey glanced over and paused, brow crinkling. "No... I don't want to ruin their night." She hiccupped. "I'll just get an Uber."

In other words, she'd rather ruin my night than Zara and Noelle's because there was no way I was letting her leave by herself. I'd be surprised if she even made it home.

"You can't leave here alone."

"Sure I can," she said, grabbing her purse off the bar. "Watch me."

I shook my head. "I'll come with you."

"Because you want to get me in bed?" She gave me a coy smile and tripped over her own feet. I caught her elbow, steadying her.

"No, because I want to make sure you don't die."

She shrugged, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. "Eh, works for me." Pulling out her phone, she typed a quick text. A moment later, from over on the dance floor, Zara checked her phone and glanced up, looking in our direction.

Bailey waved at her friends, pointing to the exit and mouthing, "Bye." Noelle shot her a questioning look, gesturing as if to say, "what gives?" Bailey waved her off and gave her a thumbs-up, which seemed to pacify her.

"They're okay with you leaving with me?" I asked.

"Oh, I told them who you are," she said. "If anything happens to me, they'll know who did it."

Drunk logic for sure, but whatever worked.

And it's quite an eventful walk home. But are we maybe seeing a hint of redemption with Chase? I hope he's ready for the ride.

(I do not apologize for the amount of Taylor Swift songs that will be in this story. #sorrynotsorry)