“This is art,” Jacob counters.
They go back and forth.
“This is why you’re single.”
“I’m single by choice.”
“That’s what all single people say.”
Mason leans forward from the back seat. “So, Cross, you ever going to tell us what actually happened out there? One minute, you were playing like you’d never seen a puck before, and the next, you were unstoppable.”
“Callan’s pep talk.”
“Not buying it. They’re not that good,” Smiley says, and everyone laughs.
“That’s the only excuse I’ve got.” I stare out the window at the city lights blurring past and think about brown hair and gold-flecked eyes. I scored three goals because I imagined her watching.
We pull up at Diamond and security waves us through. The place is dark and sleek, with crystal chandeliers and black marble everywhere. This is a bar where models, actors, and athletes come to be seen. Normally, I hate places like this, but tonight, I don’t care because I’m not at my empty penthouse.
Jacob heads straight for it while the rest of us follow. The music is prominent, but not deafening, and the crowd parts as we move through the room. Being a New York Angel has its perks, especially after a win like tonight.
I’m taking in the scene when my eyes land on a familiar figure at the bar.
I’m not imagining her this time.
Kendall Hart is holding a drink and laughing with my sister.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
I stop walking, and Callan crashes into my back.
“What the—” He follows my gaze, and his expression shifts. “Well, that’s interesting.”
“I need to leave.”
“After a hat trick? Not a fucking chance.” He grabs my arm before I can turn around. “Sit down, order a drink, and pretend she’s not there.”
He’s right, and I hate it.
I let him steer me toward the booth and slide in next to Hunter.
“Three bottles of Dom to start,” Smiley tells the server. “Actually, make it five bottles. We’re celebrating properly tonight.”
I grab the whiskey as Jacob slides toward me. I take a long sip, trying to focus on the burn instead of the woman who’s haunting me at the bar. I refuse to acknowledge her. I focus on my teammates and celebration because I had one of the best games of my season. Funny, considering how it started.
But as I drink more, my eyes drift toward the bar. I watch her lean toward Addison to say something that makes my sister throw her head back. Every time she moves, her hair falls loose around her shoulders. Maybe I can get through this night without another confrontation. Hopefully, I can finish my drinks, celebrate with my team, and leave without her ever realizing I was here.
Smiley follows my gaze and grins. “Yikes.”
“Shut up.”
He laughs and raises his glass. “To Cross and his hat trick.”
The guys echo the toast, and I drink, but I barely taste it.
My eyes find Kendall, and this time, she turns her head just enough that our gazes collide. The smile drops from her face, and her grip tightens on her glass.
She knows I’m here now.
