No.
“I’ve been skating my entire life, since I was a toddler,” she says, her gaze moving over to Miles. Her face shuts down as she glares at him, and her fingers tremble a little.
What the fuck?
“Hi,” Miles says gently. “I’m just here for moral support. I know we got off to the wrong start in New Orleans, but I am not my ex-teammates, Caelia. Not every hockey player can be painted with the same brush.”
“I know that,” she whispers. I almost can’t hear her words in the noisy bar. “You scare me.”
“He does?” I ask, jaw dropping.
“Levon,” Santo warns.
Taking a calm breath, the scent of cherries fills my senses. Damn, what is that?
“Let me try that again,” I say, my voice deeper. “Miles is only dangerous to his players when we fuck up, and only because we’re going to end up skating till we puke. Outside of that, he’s the person we still go to when we’re in trouble, Caelia. By trouble, I mean I gave my man a blow job in an inappropriate place.”
Miles groans, rubbing his face in annoyance, but my eyes are glued to the giggle Caelia gives me. Fuck yes, I want to hear that sound again.
“My dad is headed over this way,” she warns. “He has an issue with anyone speaking to me.”
“I’m going to lose my job,” the intern groans.
“We’ll go,” I reassure them. “I’d like to see you again. I don’t know how we’ll make that happen, but?—”
“We’ll see,” Caelia says, her eyes cautious as she glances again at Miles.
“For what it’s worth, I didn’t know why your dad walked away from the team,” Miles says. “I’m not going to air all of that out here, but his old team was told something different. I’vehated your dad for a long time over something that was out of both our hands.”
Caelia sighs, freezing like a deer in the headlights as she looks at the three of us. Does she feel what I do?
Santo digs his fingers into my side, and I decide it’s time to go. We need to talk.
“I don’t know what you want from me,” Caelia says.
I push Santo and Miles back a step because I don’t know what else to do. The three of us begin to purr, and Roger’s eyes grow wide.
“Give the girl some space,” he says, getting out of the booth and stepping in front of Caelia.
I glare at him as he raises his hands in both surrender and supplication, deciding he’s right.
“I haven’t had a bar fight in six months,” I say nonchalantly.
“And we’re going,” Miles says hurriedly, turning me away. “I’ll let the guys hang out for a while longer, and text Ares to tell him we’re taking an ride share home.”
“Fine,” I mutter, throwing out my mostly full beer bottle. “We have a lot to talk about, Miles.”
“You feel it too, huh?” he asks.
“Goddamn you both,” Santo growls. “I’m having a crisis. She’s?—”
“Ours,” I reply, pushing my way outside.
“Fuck,” Miles says, his fingers moving over his screen to warn our assistant coach. “This wasn’t on my bingo card for tonight.”
“Miles!” a booming voice yells, slamming outside behind us.
Turning, I see it’s Caelia’s dad, and I see my life flash before my eyes.
