Blake keeps watching me.
The need to flee hits me hard, and I’m probably harsher than I should be as I snap, “Look, it’s fine. I’m not thrilled to be here tonight, but it’s been an okay time, all right?”
Luckily, we’re interrupted by our teammates before Blake can respond—or keep prying. Eriksson leads the pack with Forsberg and Hewitt in tow. Clearly all three have been frequent visitors to the open bar tonight, because they’re loud and rowdy as they join us.
“We’re hitting up The Lantern House,” Eriksson announces. He jabs the air in front of us. “You’re coming.”
“Sorry, man, but I’ve got plans,” Blake drawls. He peers off in the distance, a slow smile stretching his mouth. “And there she is now.”
Forsberg hoots as Blake ambles away from the group toward the stunning brunette who’s just reentered the ballroom. Kai greets him with a dazzling smile, and it isn’t longbefore the two of them are tangled together on the dance floor.
Good. This is awesome. Blake is officially occupied for the night, which means there’s no chance of him showing up at the apartment when I get home.
If that had occurred to me earlier, I would have spent the whole evening introducing him to women.
Eriksson, however, isn’t put off by Blake’s desertion. He slings one big arm around my shoulders and says, “Guess it’s just the four of us, kid. C’mon, let’s get our pub on.”
Aggravation clamps around my throat. No fucking way. I’m not going to a pub with these guys, not when Jamie is waiting for me at home. Not when I already allowed this goddamn benefit to ruin our night. If I head home now, at least Jamie and I could have a few hours together before bed. We’ve both got early practices tomorrow.
“Sorry, I’m passing, too.”
But I underestimated Eriksson’s tenacity. Or maybe I just hadn’t realized how much my friendship seems to mean to him. “Aw, don’t bail on me. This day has been shit from the moment I woke up.” His voice goes awkward. “I need my team to rally around me tonight.”
“You got it, bro,” Forsberg says. “Can’t believe I’m passing up easy pussy for you tonight. But even I can respect the bros-before-hos rule every now and then.”
How I hate that phrase. But the pathetic expression in Eriksson’s red-rimmed eyes triggers a rush of guilt. The man’s wife just told him she wants a divorce, for chrissake. And I’m standing here telling him to fuck off because I want to go home and snuggle with my boyfriend?
“Okay,” I finally say, reaching out to pat his arm. “I’m there.”
NINE
JAMIE
My new friends choose The Lantern House, which turns out to be a pretty big place. We snag a high table in the back, and Frazier wades through the crowd to get us a pitcher. The thump of music and the buzz of the chatter around me lifts my spirits. It startles me to realize how infrequently I get out to a bar like this. For a twenty-three-year-old guy, I’m practically a shut-in these days. Gilles tells a funny story about his team getting lost in Quebec, and I find myself laughing more easily than I have in a while.
I’ve missed this. Wes and I visit restaurants together sometimes, but it’s just not the same as carrying on at a bar for a few hours.
“Play some darts? That board just opened up.” Gilles points toward the back.
“Let’s do it,” I agree.
He lays out the rules for a three-man game, and we start shooting. And with that comes the inevitable smack talk. “You’re a goalie, Canning. Betcha can’t hit the bullseye,” Frazier crows.
When I do, he has to buy the next round.
Maybe it’s inevitable, but three attractive guys playing darts on a Saturday night will attract the ladies. It isn’t long until a trio of young women is watching, cheering us on.
Frazier and Gilles camp it up even more. We’re into our second pitcher when Frazier dares Gilles to let him shoot an apple off his head with a dart. The girls dissolve into giggles. And thank fuck nobody can find an apple, because I really don’t want to spend the rest of this evening in an emergency room with Gilles and the dart in his eye.
At any rate, the girls sort of descend on us when we give up the dartboard. The assertive brunette claims Frazier, who’s hotter than Gilles, with his dimples and impressive forearms that I really shouldn’t be noticing. The brunette isn’t as cute as her two blond friends, but she’s got a bossy vibe that’s sexy in its own way.
Apparently one of the blondes has a thing for plaid, because she soon attaches herself to Gilles’s arm. Even though I’ve quite intentionally avoided eye contact with all three of them, the law of the jungle applies. The third girl moves in, planting herself in front of me, nodding whenever I speak. She puts a hand on my back and laughs when I make a joke.
It’s not the first time someone has hit on me in a bar, so it’s not like I’m going to panic. And she doesn’t seem like the pushy type, either. I can buy a girl a couple of friendly drinks for an hour and then pull an oh-look-at-the-time-I-gotta-run. But part of me is just really weary of the charade. Because there is someone in my life and I’d feel completely differently about the next hour if he was here with me.
You can’t have everything you want, though.
That’s my last thought before I happen to turn my head and scan the front of the pub. My eye snags on a cluster of tuxedosnear the bar. I recognize one of them immediately. The back of Wes’s head is all I can see from here. Just dark, spiky hair closely shorn where it approaches his neck. And I know that neck. I like to put my mouth on the smooth skin right there, and when I suck on that spot, he moans.
