Thin Ice (Power Play Series Book #2)

Chapter Sixty × Like a Butcher Cutting Meat

Catching up with the guys is nice, for about half an hour. For the most part, everyone went to their families place for Christmas or had their family over to meet their new one. That's what I mean about family changing in hockey. You either accept it and that you have to live away from your own for the majority of your life - like a lot of normal adults, or you pout and wait until Christmas time when you can visit them again.

But let me tell you, sometimes you just have to make the best of a situation. And for me, that meant moving here and trying to rekindle things with Rosie. Do I ever plan on telling her that's why I moved here? I already did.

Yeah, I'm not waiting for some gossip blogger or catty girlfriend of some bench warmer to spill the beans and tell my girlfriend why I chose Portland. Although I was sure she would understand that I wasn't some restraining order warranting stalker, but rather someone that had a few different options of where they wanted to go and chose the one with her in it.

Would it have been a bit of a bitter pill to swallow if I showed up here and she wanted nothing to do with me or was engaged to someone? Definitely. But I was willing to take that chance. I also may or may not have had someone on the inside that found that info out for me. The part about her not seeing anyone; not her and her feelings towards me.

"So, how's everything been with you? I feel like I barely see you since you got a girlfriend." Gabe says when he shows up to the party - ironically enough a few hours late because there was some emergency with his babysitter. His wife, Natasha, is beside him, and probably one of the few wives and girlfriends that doesn't cluster to the wives' club like a fly to shit.

The wives club. Basically a group of the wives that control the narrative and treat the girlfriends and fiancés (anyone not actually a wife), like shit. Their excuse is that they don't know if the person will stick around because some guys go through more women in a week than someone with diarrhea going through toilet paper.

They don't actually say that but I added the metaphor just to show how extreme they are. Which is partially why I was surprised Ro was hanging out with them; but hey, if they've taken her under their wing for whatever reason, then I'll take it. The second they start treating her anything but nice, I'll be getting involved.

I'm not usually one for drama but if anyone fucks with my girl, I'll cut them faster than a butcher cutting meat.

"You see that fucking grin on his face, how do you think it's going?" One of the guys chimes in, making the group around us laugh.

I don't bother trying to hide my smugness. "Yeah, things are really good." I answer, not being one to divulge the intricacies of our personal life - not unless I'm wasted and about to tell her I love her for the first time. I guess technically not the first, first, time, because we said it back the first time around.

But the first time for the second time, if you're catching what I'm putting down. "When do I get to meet her?" Natasha asks, not usually being able to come out because of the kids; but tonight, thankfully making an exception. It makes me wonder how much of the time she actually can't come out and how much of the time she's just tired and doesn't feel like putting up with the bullshit of having to mingle and talk.

I look around the restaurant, wishing I'd be able to answer the question myself. I haven't seen Rosie since she left to go to the restroom; and that was about an hour-or-so ago. Then she texted me that she was hanging out with some of the girls and I was like, okay, cool (even though on the inside I was kind of jealous because they get to see her and I don't.)

But I know she wants to make friends (it's one of her goals), and I want to support her in whatever she wants to do. And if that means me seeing her less at a New Years Eve party, then so be it.

When eleven o'clock comes around though, their time is up and I'm going to get her. Because there's not a chance in hell, I'm missing my midnight kiss with her for our first New Years together.

"I think she's with the wives." I answer, earning a few looks from the group - nobody here particularly liking their cultish behavior. It's very high school cliques-like and even though most of us didn't have a problem being liked in high school, none of the guys are particularly fond of their girlfriends getting the third degree just because they haven't walked down the aisle yet.

Even for Rosie and I, I know we're gonna be together for the rest of our lives; and I'm not about to go get married in Vegas because some middle-aged women don't want to waste time making small talk with someone that isn't here next week.

Plus, we'll be getting married soon enough, if I have anything to do with it.

"And you left her alone with them?" Natasha questions, looking at me like I'm a rat she just pulled out of the sewer drain. Which makes me wonder if I made a mistake by leaving her there when she texted me. I mean, it's not like I knew she was gonna go hang out with them or be recruited into their little girl gang.

Though, I think girl gang is more of a positive thing whereas this is more like a sinister group that rules the small town on some east coast city. Okay, I'm gonna stop making old dad references and go find my girlfriend. "I'll be right back." I tell them before grabbing my beer and strolling my way to where the cult congregates.

You would think it's like some real Medusa level shit, in reality, it's usually meters within the women's washroom - because they have to be able to check their makeup in somewhere that has good lighting, as Makena has told me. Speaking of Makena (and Quentin) it would've been really nice for them to be here tonight - especially Makena because she could've hung out with Rosie and protected her from the girls.

Though, I guess that's technically my job seeing as I am her boyfriend. I'm doing a real shit job at it right now. I don't know why I didn't think more when I saw her text; I just thought she was trying to branch out or whatever. Plus, let's be real, Rosie's hard to not like. She's so fucking cute and funny and smart and has these witty comebacks to things that make me laugh even when I'm thinking back about them in the middle of the night. Did I mention she's cute?

"Hey Katie, have you seen Rosie? She said she was hanging out with you guys." Karen, or Katie, laughs very snarly, making me wonder who it is that's married to her and why they haven't gotten a divorce yet. I know if it was my wife acting like a chaotic bitch to people, I would be taking a serious look in the mirror.

"That's funny. Considering she hasn't even said hi." She says, looking towards the girls around her like they're her backup dancers. They all hum and nod in agreeance. I really hope Rosie doesn't become anything like them. Who am I kidding? That would never happen.

"Ok. Thanks." I don't even bother trying to mask my irritation with them or their attitude towards my girlfriend. Instead, I take matters into my own hands by looking for her. There's no new texts on my phone; so, I assume she hasn't booted it out of here and taken an Uber home.

I hope she would at least tell me if she was going to do that.