He’s good with his patrons, and that’s why we love to come here from time to time for a drink or two. Now, we might be here, but all of us know to keep our alcohol intake in check. We’re in the middle of the season, so losing our senses won’t do any of us any good. And then there’s Coach to always remind us of this.
The adrenaline still coursing through us after the big win is enough to ride us through our high. “To showing the New York Falcons who we are!” I raise my glass in a toast.
“Cheers!” Seb yells, raising his pint in the air,and the rest of us follow. Ever the young prankster, Seb nudges Noah. “I didn’t think you still had it in you to earn a shutout, being old and all, you know.”
Noah grabs Seb in a friendly chokehold as he gives him a noogie. “Who are you calling old, you baby? I can still kick your ass, rookie.”
“Show him how it’s done, Noah!” Lucas encourages him.
Seb raises his hands in surrender as laughter sputters out of his mouth. “My bad, my bad!”
Laughter erupts as the team gathers around the table, teasing each other over who could eat the most without dropping anything. Someone switched the TV to the replay of the game, and every little highlight drew cheers and playful mockery.
“To our Cap for that score and Noah for that shutout!” Oliver raises his glass, and everyone follows.
“Thank you guys! We all did amazing!” I raise my own glass again, and the team hollers in celebration.
Despite the noise, there was a warmth in the group – an easy camaraderie that only came from long hours together on and off the ice. For amoment, the game, the stats, the pressure–all of it melted away, leaving friendship, laughter, and the comfort of knowing that these people had each other’s backs, no matter what.
Besides the players, there are some staff members too, celebrating with the team. Taking a swig of my beer, I scan the crowd for her. And there she is, sitting with Stacy and Jodi at the counter.
A frown settles between my brows when I find her lost in thought, even though she’s sitting with her friends as she robotically twists her glass in her hands without drinking. Then my mind travels back to the look on her face earlier, before the game, and my fist clenches in my lap.
Needing to know what it was about, I get up and announce, “Be right back, boys.” They barely pay me any attention and dive right back into their chatter. But Noah notices, as he raises an eyebrow at me, questioning me with that small gesture.
Not yet ready to answer, I shrug at him and leave to make my way to her through the throng of people in the bar.
“Hey,” I say to announce my presence, leaning on the counter beside her.
Too lost in thoughts, she jolts and stares at me wide-eyed before registering her surroundings. “Oh, hey.” Her voice raspy as if she hadn’t spoken in a while.
Her reaction deepens my concern, niggling at that curdling feeling inside my chest again. “What is it?” I don’t pretend to ask if something is wrong, because I know itis. The only thing I need to figure out is what. And she’s the only one who can apprise me of that.
When swiveling her gaze to the glass, she still doesn’t answer me, I change my tactic. With a sigh, I ask her, “Wanna get out of here?” My head jerks toward the exit.
Surprised by my suggestion, she searches my face. Eventually, she agrees with a nod. “Sure.” Standing up from the stool, she takes the lead as I follow close behind her, my hand nestled on the small of her back.
I worry that she’ll slap it away, but she doesn’t. So my palm singes with the heat of her body even through her clothes. Her supple waist begging me to grab hold of her and bury her in my chest.
My jaw clenches with the restraint I practice to keep from hauling her into my arms. We’re outthe back exit too quickly for my liking. My hand drops from her waist, and I shove it in my pocket lest I do something that will get me in trouble.
She takes a huge breath in and releases it into the night air. Silently, I stand beside her, tilting my head up to look at the night sky, the stars barely visible due to the city’s pollution. Yet the chilly air soothes my inner turmoil, and by the looks of it, hers too, when I find her gazing at the sky.
“What happened today during the game, Kaeli? Who did you see?” I ask her, noting her expressions for a shift or unease.
Her shoulders tense at my question, and her eyes harden. Wrapping her arms around her, she says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She doesn’t meet my eyes as she spews white lies through her teeth.
I twist my body toward her as I take a step forward. “Don’t bullshit me, Kaeli. You looked like you saw a fucking ghost in there,” I grit.
Fire lights in her eyes at my choice of words, and she turns to me, too. And God, if the prospect of arguing with her doesn’t excite me. “What is it to you? Why do you care?” she throws at me, her eyes harboring accusations andanimosity.
“I don’t,” I snarl.
“Then you don’t have the right to ask me anything,” she states as an emotion akin to hurt passes through her eyes, but I might be wrong.
I don’t know how I find myself crowding her as her back presses against the rugged brick wall. “That’s where you’re wrong, Feather. Everything about you is my concern until you’re in my vicinity and that of my team. I don’t want you causingboyproblems and scandals,” I say as I hover over her, her head tilted back to look at me. I know it was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
Her eyes slide to my lips and back again, but she goes rigid when she processes my words, glaring at me. She bites her lips to hold her words back, directing my gaze to the luscious size of them.
