After a one night stand on New Year's Eve, Lia and Derrick don't expect to see one another again. After all, she's a Harvard PhD student and he's a professional hockey player for the Boston Knights - there's no way their paths should cross again.
E...
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"Dude, I can't believe you're stuck in San Francisco," my roommate, Nyberg, said over the phone as I stepped into the small airport hotel room I'd been given for the night and dropped my carry-on bag. "You're going to miss an epic midnight barbecue at Coach's house."
"I know," I said with a dejected sigh. "But it's not really my choice, man. I didn't ask to have my flight canceled." After tossing my baseball cap onto a side table, I took a couple steps forward to open the curtains. While there'd definitely been better views over the years of away games and tournaments, the fifth floor of the Hyatt was far from the worst. The night a darkened backdrop to the lights and bustling city below. "But Coach was the first one I called back in the airport. I told him I managed to get a seat on the second flight out tomorrow morning, so hopefully I'll be able to make it for pre-game warmups."
Luckily, our game against Washington wasn't until eight 'o'clock tomorrow night, so barring any major delays, I'd be there with time to spare.
"Let's hope that's the case," he said, pausing as I heard him fumble around for something. "Are you at least back at your parents' place for the night?"
I shook my head despite knowing he couldn't see it. "Nope," I replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "It wouldn't have made sense to trek all the way back to Santa Clara only to come back super early tomorrow. Plus, I don't want to put a damper on everyone else's New Year's Eve."
"So you're ringing in the new year by yourself?" Nyberg asked, clearly astonished at the turn my night had taken.
"Yeah."
A low whistle traveled down the phone line. "That sucks, man, but hopefully you can find some way to entertain yourself."
Looking around the small box of a room I was currently in—consisting of nothing more than a queen-size bed, a desk, and a fairly ancient looking television set—I knew the way to do that was certainly not here.
"I'll probably head down to the bar in a bit," I said. "Grab a beer or something, maybe see if they've got any games playing."
"Or you can see if there are any women around who catch your eye," he drawled with amusement. "You've got the night off now. Have some fun."
As I held back an eye roll at his suggestion, flashes of red braids, a captivating smile, and beautiful moss green eyes invaded my mind. I'd lost track of my incredibly attractive and hopefully single seat mate back in the craziness of the airport, but as the memory of her came racing back, I couldn't help but wonder if she'd also been put up in this hotel. And if she had, maybe trying to find her and seeing how things would've played out had our conversation on the plane not been cut short wasn't such a bad idea.
"We'll see about that," I said. "And anyways, don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Yeah, yeah, Wellsley, I'm heading out now. I'll be sure to recount your sob story to the guys and tell them you say hi."
