“Tricksie?”

“She’s a three-legged dog, and I scored a hat trick last night.”

Jensen paused and then laughed. “You’re insane. See you in a bit, and make sure you call Wren.”

“Will do.”

They hung up, and Vaughn rolled his eyes. Jensen was always the do-right kind of guy. While Wells and Vaughn wanted to go out, get drunk, and break something, Jensen would talk them down and convince them that getting drunk and playing on the back pond was a better idea. He was the last one to lose his virginity because he wanted it to be with someone “special.” He never cheated on a girl, and when he broke up with one, he felt bad. When his young marriage broke up, he took all the blame on himself. Never said an unkind word about his ex. Jensen called his mom every day, multiple times, and he hung out with the dorky kids growing up. He was voted Homecoming King of their class because he was so sugary sweet. Not to mention, he looked like a runway model, while Wells and Vaughn looked a little rough around the edges. Still, they were best friends, and nothing could ever change that.

When his phone rang right as he reached the doors to go sign the papers for Tricksie, he looked down to see it was Wren.

Shit.

“Hey, Wren,” he said, answering the phone with a big smile. “How’s my favorite therapist who won’t sleep with me?”

“Oh, I’m just fine. But funny thing, you didn’t show up for therapy, and then I got a text from Jensen saying you got a dog and I’m watching it. Oh, and it has three legs.”

“Um… Her name is Tricksie and she is amazing, and I don’t need therapy.”

“You do. Tricksie. Cute, but I never agreed to watch her.”

“Yes, you did.”

“When?”

“When I got you drunk the other night and stole your virtue.”

“Vaughn Johansson, I haven’t had my virtue in a long damn time.”

“But did a guy take it?”

“I will kill you dead, and that’s off the record, mister,” she growled into the phone, at which he laughed. “So you have no leg to stand on, and I don’t think Tricksie can lend you one.”

Vaughn scoffed. “You said I needed a companion. I got one, and in return, you have to watch her when I leave.”

“I meant a woman, but fine, a dog is fine. It’s a step in the right direction, I guess. But I never agreed to this, and I travel too, Vaughn.”

“Not all the time, though. Maybe once a month, and I can board her then.”

“So you have a plan?” she asked, and she didn’t sound convinced because, really, Vaughn never had a plan.

“Yup, sure do.”

“Okay, well, add me in at nine tomorrow before morning skate, and if you don’t show up, I’ll tell your coach.”

Vaughn’s face scrunched up. “You’re mean.”

“I love you too. Bye.”

She hung up, and Vaughn tucked his phone into his pocket before looking down at Tricksie. “That was your aunt Wren and she’s mean to me, but she’ll be nice to you. Are you ready to go home?”

Tricksie began to lick his skin off, and he took that as a yes. As a huge smile covered his face, Vaughn nodded his head. He had his baby girl, his best friend was coming to his team, Wren would watch Tricksie, and he was playing for the team of his dreams. Things were good. Really good.

And loneliness would be a thing of the past; he just knew it.

“Who talked me into this?”

“No one. You did that to yourself.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You’re lonely?”

“Oh. I am, aren’t I? Shit.”

“Yup, so may the force be with you, my friend.”

“But I don’t want to do this.”

“Then leave?”

“Can’t you come with me? There’s still time. It doesn’t start for another fifteen.”

“I’m just sure my fiancé would love that.”

Brie Soledad rolled her eyes as she leaned on the pillar of the ballroom, her eyes burning a hole in the sign that read: Speed Dating for Nashville Locals. It was embarrassing that this was what her life had resulted in, but as her best friend had said, she was lonely. Mekena Preston, though, was not lonely. Nope, she was all happy and in love with her fiancé, while having a great job and a wonderful life, blah, blah, blah. And if Brie was honest, she was jealous as hell and so desperately wanted to get laid, maybe even fall in love. Get the blah, blah, blah.

God, she wanted the blah, blah, blah. So damn bad.

Being a hockey reporter for one of the hottest teams in the NHL, the Nashville Assassins, one would think she would be rolling in the men, but she wasn’t. Everyone treated her like a little sister or they ignored her or they treated her like shit. Well, only one did that, but that was beside the point. The point was, Brie needed more. She was happy in her career. It was awesome, she was amazing, and people loved her. She had even won an Emmy the year before; she was kicking ass. The only problem was she didn’t have anyone to share her success with.

Yeah, she had her little brother, Rodney, but he really didn’t understand. Also, he needed to focus on his health and not on her. She was supposed to worry for him, not the other way around. Or at least, that was what she had promised her mom before she’d passed away from cancer a few years back. Sometimes, it was hard to remember, but Brie blamed that on the fact that she had no one to lean on. It was just her, with the weight of her job and her brother’s issues on her shoulders.

And plus, she really wanted to get laid.

It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t an ugly girl. She was short, and maybe she could have skipped a few desserts, but then, what was life without ice cream and donuts? She had a pretty face, big blue eyes, and lips that screamed to be kissed, yet no one was kissing them. It was annoying, and pray God, this damn speed dating worked.

“I’m gonna stay,” she said, coming off the pillar and fixing the skirt of her little blue dress that stopped right at the middle of her thighs. “I need to get laid.”

Mekena stuttered. “Not tonight, though, right?”

“Jesus, Mekena, I’m not a whore.”

“Oh, you’re not?”

And this was the problem with being best friends with a girl she met only a month ago. “I’m not. Asshole.”