Icing (Aces Hockey #1)(11)
It was kinda weird to be alone so much. He’d gotten used to having his best bud around, someone to watch TV with or arm wrestle with. Also, he was a slob and Duper liked to keep things clean, so that was handy. Although Ruby, his housekeeper, also helped with that.
He stripped off his clothes, fell face-first onto his bed, and promptly passed out.
—
Elliott told Amber she could leave early after the incident with those stupid drunk guys. And the stupid drunk guy who’d come to her rescue. It irritated her so much that she’d been about to end up in that guy’s lap and Duncan had saved her. She did not need to be saved. She’d been looking after herself for a long time. She was more angry than hurt or upset, but it was nice that her boss was concerned that she’d gotten hit in the face. She’d worked in a lot of places where nobody gave a shit.
She got her tips, her purse, and her jacket, and left. Her old beater of a car was parked in the lot behind the Sin Bin. When she reached into her purse, she pulled out a set of keys and frowned at them. Shit. These were Duncan’s keys. Oh my fucking God. What else could go wrong tonight? Did she really want to go back in there and face him again?
No.
Yes.
She sighed. She had to give him his keys back. She could trust that his friends wouldn’t let him drive drunk. Right?
Fuck no. They were all pro athletes, all of them tossing back round after round with an unlimited tab, brawling in the bar, gorgeous puck bunnies hanging around. They probably didn’t give a shit. She knew more than one pro athlete who’d been charged with driving under the influence—lots more than one, sadly—and she could name at least two who’d died in drunk-driving accidents.
She was keeping the damn keys. Then she’d know for sure he was going to get home safe.
Why she cared, she had no idea.
Well, that was callous. She may not like him, or his type, but she didn’t want him to die. Or kill someone else.
She dropped his keys into her purse and found her own.
She’d get his keys back to him tomorrow. She wasn’t sure how. She wasn’t scheduled to work, but possibly she could call the Sin Bin and see if someone there knew how to get hold of Duncan. Clearly he was a regular there and a teammate of the owner of the restaurant. She’d figure it out.
When Amber let herself into the Lincoln Park apartment she shared with Easton, she found him sitting on the couch making out with another guy.
“Yikes.” She held up a hand, averting her eyes. “Sorry to interrupt.”
Easton pulled away from his friend with no urgency, his eyes heavy-lidded. “You’re home early, boo.”
“Yeah. My boss sent me home before my shift was over. We had a little, uh, incident.”
Easton frowned. “What happened?”
She dropped her purse onto the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Small bar fight.”
Easton’s jaw slackened. “Really? Are you okay?”
She set her fingers to her cheekbone. Yeah, a little tender. “I’m fine. But Elliott felt bad that I got hit.”
“You got hit?” Easton jumped to his feet and rushed at her. He cupped her chin and turned her face. “Jesus, Amber. You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” His concern for her warmed her insides. “Thanks.”
Easton grimaced. “You can’t have a bruised face.”
She shrugged. “Makeup can hide a lot.”
Easton cursed under his breath.
“So can Photoshop,” she added with a smile.
“I’m not just worried about how you look.” He frowned. “You seem upset.”
She sighed. “It’s nothing.”
Easton cast a regretful look at the guy on the couch. “I should introduce you. Amber, this is Jamie. Jamie, my roommate, Amber.”
Amber smiled at the guy, who politely rose and extended a hand. She took the two steps to meet him and shook his hand. Holy crap, where had Easton found this guy? He was gorgeous—tall, wide-shouldered, and lean, dark hair falling over his forehead. He flashed her a dazzling smile.
“Hi. Nice to meet you, Jamie.”
She didn’t really need to wonder where Easton had found him. As a sought-after commercial photographer in Chicago, Easton often worked with top models in the city. No doubt Jamie was one of those.
“You too. Maybe I should go.”
“No, no! I’m heading to bed. It was a crazy night. You two kids carry on.”
Easton rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. We can talk tomorrow.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek and he gave her arm a squeeze.
—
In the morning when Amber got up, Easton’s bedroom door was closed and there was an unfamiliar pair of boots at the front door. Oooookay. Jamie had apparently stayed overnight.