With one last look at the gorgeous psycho behind me, I turn and make my way toward the full on brawl happening mere feet from my girl.
My girl? Who the hell am I right now?
Shaking those thoughts off, I turn and see that Holden already has Truett by the shoulders. He’s trying to pull him off of Keegan, but our goalie doesn’t want to stop punching his former friend.
Kai is trying to pull Keegan out from underneath Truett, but neither of those guys are light. I can see the way he struggles to move him.
Maxton is just standing off to the side and shaking his head, muttering something about how he's too old for this shit. We’re all too old to be breaking up bar fights.
I grab Truett's arm and yank it backward before he can land another punch to Keegan’s jaw. “Enough.”
“He started it,” Truett roars, but he's not fighting me. Holden is finally able to pull him off the ground as Kai yanks his sparring partner back.
“I don't give a fuck who started it.” My voice is level, attempting to maintain some semblance of control is this situation. It’s the same tone I use when rookies get too cocky on the ice. “I’m ending it. You’re done.”
Keegan climbs to his feet, chest heaving, and I know he wants to take another swing. Thankfully, he doesn't. He just glares at Truett, rage and hate burning in his eyes. Without a glance at the rest of us, he turns and stalks away from the group.
When I turn, I spot a hint of a smirk on Gianna’s face. I want to be mad that she’s entertained by this, but the way she’s looking at me stops me from speaking.
“That was amazing,” she murmurs, her eyes bright as she takes me in. “Do it again. The tough guy thing is really hot on you.”
Letting the comment wash over me, I get a good look at her for the first time tonight. She’s wearing the tightest, shortest dress that hugs each of her round curves in a way that makes my pants too tight to contain my dick. Her hair is unruly, and her lipstick is a deep shade of red, like a fucking warning sign.
She's chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos. She’s stunning, and I want her so badly I can barely think straight.
“Come on,” she says, closing the distance between us and grabbing my hand. “Let's get out of here.”
I’m too distracted by the way her hand fits perfectly in mine to respond to her right away. She interlocks our fingers in a way that feels too intimate, but I like that she does it.
“Where do you want to go?” My question comes out on a strained exhale.
Her smile widens, clearly pleased that I’m agreeing. “Anywhere that's not here.”
Somehow, we’ve found ourselves at some dive bar only three blocks from Rookies. It’s the kind of place with sticky floors and a jukebox that only plays songs from the eighties. It's loud in here, but it’s so much quieter than where the night began.
Gianna loves it immediately.
“This is perfect,” she sings, spinning around to take it all in. “Come on, buy me a drink, super star.”
I order her a Jameson and Ginger, and I get myself a whiskey. As soon as she has the drink in her hand, she downs the contents of her glass in two sips.
Then, her hand is in mine again as she drags me toward the back of the bar. There’s no one back here, just a speaker and an old unused bar, vacant of liquor or stools.
“Dance with me.” It’s more of a demand than a request, which is exactly what I’ve come to expect from her.
“I don't dance.’ Even though I reject her offer, I refuse to release my hold on her hand.
“Liar.” She's already swaying her hips, looking ridiculously sexy, to the beat of some song I don't recognize. “Everyone dances.”
“I don't,” I laugh, but my eyes never stray from her body as she moves effortlessly.
A second later, her movements come to an end, and she looks up at me with a pout on her red painted lips. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pout look sexy before, but it is on her.
“Fine,” she huffs. “Then watch me dance for you.”
Before I can stop her, she's climbing onto the bar. The bartender at the front yells something about insurance, but Gianna ignores him. She resumes her earlier dancing, and I watch mesmerized as her body moves in ways that should be illegal.
I can feel eyes on us and the presence of people moving closer to our previously secluded corner. There is no doubt in my mind that all the men in here are looking at her. She’s fucking stunning.
