"The team. The wives. The girlfriends. The whole crew." She gives me a pointed look. "Is that a problem?"
Yes. "No."
"Great. Then stop arguing and start getting ready." She disappears into the bathroom to fix her makeup. I stare at the red dress in my hands.
This is a bad idea, going out with the team, in Vegas, after everything that's happened or hasn't happened with Emmett. I should stay in. I should order room service, watch TV, and pretend I'm not thinking about the way his hands felt in my hair.
"Jo!" Collette yells from the bathroom. "I can hear you overthinking! Stop it!"
Fuck it.
I sigh and start getting ready.
The club is exactly what you'd expect from Vegas. Dark. Loud. Pulsing with bass that you feel in your chest. The VIP section is roped off for the team, with bottles of champagne on ice, and beautiful people everywhere. I spot Harper and Issy in a booth, and they wave me over. Collette has already disappeared into the crowd with some of the PR girls.
"You look amazing!" Harper hugs me as I slide in beside her. "That dress is killer."
"Thanks. Collette made me wear it."
"Sisters are good for that." Issy pushes a glass of champagne toward me. "Drink. Celebrate. We won."
I take a sip and let myself relax a little. This is fine. I can do this. I can have a fun night out with the girls and not think about .... Then he walks in.
Emmett. The boys. My brothers. Fresh from whatever postgame media obligations they had. They're all in dark jeans and button-downs, looking like they stepped out of a magazine spread. My eyes find Emmett immediately, like magnets. His sleeves are rolled up, showing off his forearms, his hair is still a little damp from the shower. He's laughing at something Sully said, that easy grin that makes my stomach flip. Then his eyesscan the room and land on me. The smile fades, and something darker takes its place as his eyes scan my face. I look away first. Reaching for my champagne like it's a lifeline.
"Are you okay?" Issy asks.
"Fine. Just hot in here." I fan myself.
She doesn't look convinced, but she lets it go.
The boys settle into a booth across from us, and for a while, everything is normal. Music. Laughter. Drinks flowing. I talk to Harper about work. I listen to Issy complain about a case she's working on. I pretend I'm not hyperaware of every move Emmett makes. Then the puck bunnies arrive. They swarm the VIP section like sharks scenting blood. Beautiful women in barely-there dresses, all long legs, glossy lips, and hungry eyes. They zero in on the players with practiced precision. Two of them make a beeline for Emmett. I watch as a blonde slides into the booth beside him, pressing her body against his side. She's saying something in his ear. One hand on his chest. One of the guys leaves so her friend, a brunette with legs for days, positions herself on his other side. He's surrounded. And he's not pushing them away.
"Jo." Harper's voice cuts through the noise. "You're going to break that glass."
I look down. My fingers are white-knuckled around my champagne flute. "Oops." I giggle, setting it down.
She follows my gaze to Emmett's booth, and understanding dawns on her face. "Oh."
My brows pull together. "No, no. There's no oh."
"Then what is it?"
The blonde is laughing now, her hand sliding up Emmett's arm. The brunette is whispering something in his other ear. He's smiling at them. That polite, distant smile I've seen him give fans. He doesn't seem interested, but he's not stopping them either.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I need some air." I stand abruptly. "I'll be back." I don't wait for a response as I push through the crowd toward the back of the club, looking for an exit. A bathroom. Anywhere that isn't here. I find a hallway leading to the restrooms and lean against the wall, trying to breathe. This is ridiculous. I have no claim on him, we're not together, I have no right to be jealous. But I am. I'm so jealous I can barely see straight. Shit. I bang my head against the wall. I don't want to be jealous.
"Running away again?" His voice hits me like a physical blow.
I turn to find Emmett standing at the entrance to the hallway, hands in his pockets, watching me with those stormy green eyes.
"I needed a break from the noise."
"Sure you did." He walks toward me, slow and deliberate, until he's close enough that I can smell his cologne. That familiar scent that makes me want to bury my face in his neck.
"Shouldn't you get back to your fan club?" I ask. I hate how bitter it sounds.
"My fan club?"
