From that day on, I was on the ice with them, but when the summer came around, they traded me to Dallas. I was shocked and confused, but I was excited for the start. Now I’ve been here for eight years, and I’m one of the oldest ones on the team. I shake my head, laughing. Old my ass.
Pulling up to the arena, I park in my designated spot. I climb out of my car and then grab my phone to text Becca, my agent, and tell her that I’m here. Then I take a picture for my Instagram.
The picture is of me smiling, and the caption is:
This could be all yours. Going once, going twice.
Putting my phone away, I walk into the arena and see all the changes they made in order to get us to party here. The arena has been transformed into a ballroom with a huge black stage at the back of the ice. Seeing all the round tables situated in front of it makes it feel weird that I played on this ice yesterday. The tables are covered in white tablecloths with crystal standing chandeliers. People mingle as waiters and waitresses pass out food and champagne. I spot the bar right away and start my way there when I’m stopped by a couple of fans who are attending. I smile and pose for a picture and then finally bump into Manning on my way to the bar.
“Look at you, Mr. GQ,” Manning, my best friend and captain of the team, jokes as he slaps my shoulder. He’s been calling me that ever since I was on the cover six years ago. “You look dapper.” I shake my head. He’s the only man who stands six feet six and is built like an ox who can use the word dapper.
“We are wearing the same fucking suit.” I point at him, shaking my head. “Let's take a picture together and put it on Instagram so we can do a poll on who wears it better.” I slide my phone out, and he pushes me away.
“I don’t do that shit.” He’s the only one who refuses to take part in social media. However, he’s the first to help out or donate his time. “It’s enough I have to put up with the pictures tonight from the press. I don’t need you adding to it.”
“I’ll take a club soda,” I tell the bartender, “with lime.” Looking over at Manning, who puts his hands in his pockets, I see the vein in his head start to pulse. When I see what he’s looking at, I laugh. His wife is the social butterfly. She is in the middle of everything, schmoozing and flirting. “Whatever, man. You get to take her home tonight.”
Manning looks around before he talks. “Don’t remind me.” He brings his whiskey to his lips. To the outside world, they are a perfect couple, but those who know him, know he’s living in hell. I don’t know when it happened, but she might be the devil. “She threatened to post on Instagram and actually created an account for me.”
“Did you tell Candace? She’d be so pissed if you didn’t become one of her clients,” I say to him. “Don’t look now,” I tell him, seeing Candace and her boyfriend, Ralph, walking toward us.
“Boys,” Ralph says when he gets close enough. He is quieter than some of our other teammates. He’s fierce on the ice, but no one would call him the life of the party.
“You,” Candace says right away, pointing at me. “Are you insane?”
“Me?” I ask her, confused.
“Do you know how many DMs you got because of your Instagram picture?” I look at her as she glares. “My phone has been blowing up. One girl wants to suck your dick for a hundred dollars.”
“What?” I ask her, taking out my phone to check my comments and seeing she’s right. “What is with all these women? Also, only a hundred dollars?” I ask, looking up and seeing Layla walking in. I swear my cock springs to action the minute I catch a glimpse of her bare leg through the slit in her long strapless black dress. Her long brown hair curled and swaying, she stops a waiter and takes a glass of champagne, smiling at him.
“Earth to Miller,” Candace says. “You need to edit that post,” she tells me, and I just hand her the phone.
“Don’t click on my photos,” I warn with a wink, and Ralph pushes my shoulder.
“Is the ring on her finger not enough to tell you that you can’t flirt with her?” He looks over at Manning. “Can you believe this guy?”
“Yes, I can.” Manning nods. “Do you not remember when we all got his dick picture?”
“That was on Snapchat.” I throw my head back and close my eyes, thinking about last year when I sent it by accident. “It was an accident.” They all laugh.
“What is everyone laughing about?” Layla says once she comes closer to us, and I see her holding a glass of champagne.
“The time Miller sent his dick picture to everyone on Snapchat,” Candace says and then looks at me, then back at Layla. “You look amazing, by the way.” I’m about to tell her that she looks gorgeous when I hear someone talking.
“There you are.” I look over to see Manning’s wife coming over to us. She smiles at the guys and literally rolls her eyes when she sees Layla and Candace. “Nico would like a picture of us,” she says, looping her hand through Manning’s arm. “Shall we?” He takes his hands out of his pockets, and she grips his arm. He walks away from us without saying anything.
“Why is she like that?” Layla asks.
“At least she never poured a drink over your head,” Candace says, and Layla laughs.
“I thought you were going to throat punch her,” Layla says, taking a drink.
“Okay, let’s go spend some money,” Ralph says, pulling Candace away to the silent auction items.
“And just like that”—I smirk—“it’s just you and me, gorgeous.” I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes.
“You’re so gross,” she scoffs, finishing her drink and placing the glass on a passing tray. She smiles at the waiter as she grabs another glass and downs half of it in one shot. “Oh, look,” she says, pointing at a group of women dressed to the nines who are all huddled together, all holding drinks, and all looking this way. “Well, there you have it. Your harem has arrived.”
“You know green is not a good color on you.” I push away from the bar and go up to her. She looks down at herself and then up again.
“Are you color blind?” she jokes, and I see her just eye me.
“You’re green with jealousy.” I get closer to her as she throws her head back and laughs.
“Jealous?” She finishes the drink in two gulps, then leans past me. Her hair brushes across my face, and her smell gets my cock going again. “Of you?” She pffts as she grabs another glass and finishes it, then swaps it out for a fresh one before the waiter can get away. “At every single party we’ve both attended, you’ve left with a different girl each time.” She laughs now. “Once, you left with one girl, then came back two hours later, and left with another one. I’d watch myself if I were you,” she says as she passes my ear and then comes back. She motions with her head toward them and then laughs again. “You’d best be careful of them.” She looks at them. “Those girls look like they stab holes in the condoms.” I shiver. “The blonde looks like she can be a baby momma.” I look over at the blonde who winks and then sticks her tongue out and rolls it over her lips. “I think that is her mating call.”