The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 2

Evie

The night went on and I continued setting tables for a private event set for this evening. It was a nice little break from the constant stream of guests that would come through.

It was hard to tune out the highlight reels of the Thunderbolts Captain being the leading scorer in the league and becoming the rookie of the year.

How some people manage to become that successful amazes me. He must be the city’s favorite little hockey star.

I hummed quietly to myself as I moved around the dining room.

“Waitress,” a woman’s shrill voice squawked. “Waitress!”

My head snaps up at the signal. “I’m so sorry, mam,” I apologize carefully. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, for starters, why don’t you actually serve me,” she scolds. “I have been sitting here for ten minutes trying to get your attention!”

I looked around. My eyes were starting to turn towards where I stood.

“Absolutely, mam,” I stammer. “What can I get you?”

“I need a drink, but everyone in here seems to be too distracted by the craziness outside,” she says with a huff.

I looked down at her glass. “What kind of wine would you like?”

“Your most expensive bottle. Make it snappy,” she orders sharply.

“Anything else?”

a super important guest coming. Bring two glasses,” she muttered.

with your drinks,” I say with forced cheerfulness.

this make

the bottle of wine and bring two glasses back out to the table. The woman watched me with cold eyes as I popped

“Anything—“

sudden splash of fragrant red wine over my face

your attention,” she laughed smugly. “That’s for being incompetent and ruining

said angrily, coming beside me. “Are you not

bought out the restaurant just for celebrating your win,” Stella pouted innocently. “We can do what we

– He is Timothy

any and all ability

go get yourself

me back to the torment of high school. It was brutal how some kids were just able to rip into their peers’ self esteem like it was

managed to calm myself down and I stepped back

went fairly smoothly. At least I made good tips tonight. Maybe it was the pity of the entire restaurant that

throw my apron into the dirty bin and grab my bag, throwing it tiredly over my shoulder. Without a single word, I head out the back of

the street in some crazy expensive sports car.

“Wait!”

the wheel of that crazy

hazel eyes of his and his chestnut hair. His face, though still youthful, had matured in all the best ways. His cheeks were toned and his

get

Sinclair, are

picked up

minute,” he shouts quickly. “I know

him again.

give you a ride,” he offered hopefully.

the grate on the sidewalk, snapping it from beneath me. Stumbling forward, I hear a car door open

This night could get

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