I’m not ready to tell her this. Hell, I’m not even sure I’m ready to try and make sense of it myself.
“Fine,” I relent. “Call me when you’re done. I’ll pick you up. That’s not up for discussion.”
She smirks. “Nice try. Rose is my ride. She’ll have me home by one .?.?. ish.”
“Midnight.” It’s a challenge because even when I’m still simmering down from our sparring, I enjoy this fire between us. The push and pull.
“Or what? My clothes will turn to rags and my heels to slippers?”
I shove my blazer on with a smirk of my own. Because my comment doesn’t come out of nowhere. “Something like that. You won’t make it past midnight.”
If there’s one thing I noticed about Willow the past two weeks it’s that she’s no night owl. About an hour before midnight, she starts to fade, makes her tea, and starts her nightly routine.
Her eyes soften for a second. Shimmering with something uncertain before her defiance returns. “I’m a musician. Staying up late comes with the territory.”
That might be true, but doesn’t mean she likes it. “We’ll see,” I tell her, then grab my keys and head for the door. “Have fun.”
As much as I might grumble about it, I do mean it. Wherever she’s performing—and I will find out just where—I want her to enjoy herself. She’s been selfless since the day we made our arrangement. She should get to do what she loves without anyone getting in her way.
“You too,” she says, in a dragged-out, half-hearted way.
I don’t know who won this round.
I’m not even sure it was a round or if this is just us.
But I can’t wait for the next one.
The music is too loud. But the whiskey’s smooth, so at least there’s that.
Silas—who planned the whole thing—promised low-key. Which I naively believed, since we’re just outside of town. There’s a mile-long night-life strip here. A go-to spot if you’re looking to get out of Blue River but not committed enough for Denver.
We’re at a place called Salt Rim. Which is no strip club, thankfully, but the place is still too loud and busy for my liking.
Still, for Silas—and the typical rituals I’ve heard the hockey team do when someone’s getting hitched—I’ll take it.
I’m sitting at the bar with Wilder, who slips his phone away when I look over.
I twist my neck. “Gotta say, I’m surprised. Not like you to let Rose be out on the town without you knowing where to find her.”
Wilder pauses mid-sip. He doesn’t look at me when he pours down the amber liquid.
“What was that?”
“What was what?” He sucks his teeth, twisting the glass like he’s inspecting it.
“You know something?”
Wilder glances behind us. “Will you relax and try to have a good time?”
Silas and Chase all but jump us from behind. “Grabbed us a table in front of the stage,” Silas shouts. “Come on.”
The stage? There’s a stage?
I’d laugh if I weren’t already annoyed. “No goddamn way. You boys enjoy.”
The teammates exchange a look like they expected this reaction and walk away—which should probably worry me.
I twist back to Wilder. “You know where the girls are.”
