“Did you see who’s here tonight?”
“I did. I saw the group of them walk in. And he was kind of hard to miss with that blonde hair.”
“He’s a pretty boy.”
Valtteri let out a disgusted noise and grabbed his beer off the bar. He threw down a twenty and spun around, winding back over toward. It was nice to have a free night to go out… but next time he was going to go out by himself. Catch a movie or something.
Pretty boy, he thought to himself. Like he could help the blonde hair, the blue eyes, the sharp features. When did that become a bad thing to have? He was a hockey player, he was tough, he was manly…
“Like I don’t have something to offer women besides my looks,” he mumbled under his breath.
“What do you have to offer exactly?”
Val jerked his head to the right and stared at the person who had just spoken.
Her head came up to his eyes. Long, dark hair fell over her shoulders in curls, a large fluff of bangs swept to the side almost covered a pair of vibrant, green eyes. A cute, little turned-up nose was set atop of a full set of shiny red lips. And a dusting of freckles was barely noticeable under the lighting of the club.