“This is a Riders bar,” Larsy pipes up. “You don’t get to come in here and insult Kennedy, Bougie, or anyone else. This is our home.”
“This is a public place. You don’townthis bar,” Chadd squawks, puffing his chest while his date is still over at the bar ordering drinks.
“No. They don’t,” Walt booms, walking over to our table. “But I do. And from what I heard you say to Jordan and Kenni, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We don’t tolerate that kind of talk here.”
Damn, Walt. You go, Glen Coco.I fight back the mist in my eyes between him and my teammates coming to our defense.Hold it together, Jordan.Don’t cry in a bar or you’ll be chirped the rest of your life.
“You’re going to let a bunch of goons dictate what happens in your bar?”
He crosses his arms, Johnny leaning against the bar top over his shoulder.
“Damn straight I am. This bunch of goons are my family, and we treat family with respect.”
“Thanks, Walt,” Kennedy says, standing up and linking her arm around mine. “I can take it from here.” I thread my fingers through hers, squeezing lightly and letting her do her thing. “Listen Chadd, we don’t need to get along, but we also don’t need to be around one another outside of work. I’m here celebrating my boyfriend and his team’s big win tonight, and we were here first. We’re not working, so there is no reason for you to be over here. I wish I could say it was good to see you, but I was raised to believe lying is wrong. Now, go back to Vanessa Von Ray-Ban over there and enjoy your drinks on the other side of the bar.”
Chadd’s jaw tightens as he seethes. “Her name is Mara.”
Kennedy and I exchange a quick glance and begin hysterically laughing, no one having any idea about our joke from earlier.
“What are you laughing about?” Chadd asks, looking like smoke is going to pour out of his ears as his face turns a deep shade of red.
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all,” I manage in the midst of my giggles.
Kennedy doubles over, unable to breathe, she’s laughing so hard. But she regains her composure to get out another dig. “Oh! Hey Johnny, play I Wear My Sunglasses at Night on the jukebox!”
Chadd finally gets the joke, stomping his foot as he storms off, waving off the drinks and dragging Mara out the door, pulling it shut with an exaggerated slam.
“Such a shame they didn’t want to stay after all—wonder why?” I say after composing myself.
“Probably going to go home and file a formal complaint against sunlight,” Kennedy whispers, and we double over again. Seeing her smile, hearing her laugh uncontrollably, makes me want to be with her even more.
“Speaking of going home,” she says, sliding her arm from mine, “I think I’m gonna head out. Maggie, are you ready to go?”
Maggie snorts and gives us a look like we’re certifiably insane. “Kenni…I amnottaking you home. I’m staying at Vladi’s tonight. Yourboyfriendis your ride. I’ll see you Sunday for brunch.”
I swallow hard at the thought of another awkward car ride. But also…I don’t want her to leave.
She turns to me, her lips twisting. “This is your night to celebrate. I can order an Uber if you want to stay longer with your team?—”
“No!” I interrupt quickly.Awkward or not, I still want to be with her.“I’ll take you home. It’s not a problem. I was just getting ready to leave anyway.”
She scoffs. “I can’t imagine you wanting to go home early.”
I still don’t think she gets it—I will go anywhere she does.
“It’s been a long day, and I haven’t been drinking like the rest of these fools. Plus, I see them constantly. They can roast me another time. Come on, let’s go.”
We say our goodbyes, several members of the team hoot and holler as we walk away hand-in-hand.Mental note: give them shit about that later.
The ride to her place is actuallycomfortable. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume this feels more like what a realrelationship should be. Our nerves seemingly disappear as we continue making jokes at Chadd’s expense, the conversation flowing like a clean breakaway on fresh ice. She laughed even harder when I told her I was seriously debating going full-on Crazy Rich Asians on his ass and buying the damn company they fly for so I could fire him. She made me swear not to do it. And I did.
She doesn’t need to know I may have had my fingers crossed.
As we pull up to her building, her phone buzzes. She sighs, and my stomach twists. I can only imagine the texts she’s getting from the WAGs, not to mention social media clips of her being at the game, but as I put the car in park, she screams, “Oh my God. Oh my fucking God!”
I whip my head toward her, my heart pounding. “What? What’s wrong?”
She looks at me, her eyes filled with horror, and slowly holds her phone to my face. There’s a photo of the two of us at the arena when I’m opening the door for her to get in my car.It’s actually kind of cute for a pap picture. But the message beneath it makes my blood freeze:
