“Seems like something he would do for you,” Essie muses.
“He’s ridiculous,” Dred replies.
“He’s obsessed.” How amazing would it be to have someone love me the way Connor loves Dred? But nothing is guaranteed. Anyone can fall out of love. My parents just proved that.
“He really is.” She smiles softly. “Will you come? Or do you have plans with Fee and Cammie? They could also come. Lord knows there’s enough room.”
“Tilton has a tournament that weekend, and Cammie and Fee are driving up with the guys.” I haven’t made the commitment to tag along, though I’ve been invited. As much as I love my Tilton friends, spending New Year’s with a bunch of guys who want to make the pros is a recipe for disappointment and frustration. The last thing I want is to drunkenly sleep with one of Chase’s teammates.
Tristan’s youngest brother Brody and I often find ourselves huddled together at such events, trying to avoid the nonsense that comes with our Terror affiliations. Fee occasionally falls into this category, too, because her sister Lexi is an assistant coach for the Terror and is married to their former goalie, Roman, who is also Hammer’s dad. But the attention is new for Fee, so she has a higher tolerance than me and Brody.
The bell over the door tinkles, and a gust of cold wind blows in with the Terror boys.
“I told Dallas what was going on and he gathered the rest of the troops,” Hemi explains.
“They all came?”
“We want to support you,” Hemi says gently.
My heart stutters when Flip appears, dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. He removes his toque and runs his hand through his thick, dark hair. It feels like a year has passed, instead of just hours, since he gave me flowers.
The girls greet their significant others, and I sneakily order another shot while I’m hidden behind Hemi and Dallas.
Flip ends up two stools down, and the woman beside him immediately starts chatting with him. It happens all the time. Usually I let it roll off me, but not tonight. My parents’ marriage is ending, my family is broken, my idea of love has been shattered, and I don’t even know how to process the betrayal I feelover my mom leaving me on the outside of this with everyone else. My life is spinning out of control and some random woman is flirting with Flip.
His gaze finds mine, and I realize I’ve been staring. The woman’s back is to me, so she can’t see us making eye contact over her shoulder. He arches a concerned brow. I arch a defiant one in return.
I shoot my shot, maintaining eye contact. She puts her hand on his arm, dragging his attention back to her. Which, of course, pisses me off. Irrationally.
I push away from the bar, doing my best to walk a straight line to Flip. Based on my slight wobble, the shots are catching up to me. This explains why I don’t adjust course and head for the bathroom, instead of proceeding toward the star of my fantasies.
“Hi.” Now that I’m standing in front of him, I don’t know what to do.
He turns away from the woman flirting with him, and she shoots me a “I was here first” look. She has no idea.
Flip tips his head, furrow deepening as he settles a single finger under my chin. The woman behind him frowns at the intimate contact.
“How many of me are in front of you?”
Triumph emboldens me and I blink a couple of times to bring him into focus. “Just one.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you sure about that?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, Phillip.” I drag a fingertip between his eyes to smooth the furrow.
“What’s going on here, Tally?”
For some reason, I go with blunt honesty. I must have drunk my filter to death. “I’m jealous. I hate the way that woman was touching you, and I want it to be me.”
Everything about him softens. “Talls.”
The woman who was chatting him up has moved to her friends, her irritation clear in her rigid stance. I climb into Flip’slap and drape an arm over his shoulder. I don’t even mind the fresh disapproval slanting his brow, because his attention is on me.
“How drunk are you?” His hand settles between my shoulder blades. I finger the silky strands at the nape of his neck, encouraged by the fact that he hasn’t moved me off his lap.
“Not that drunk.”
“Are you sure? ’Cause you’re sitting in my lap, Talls.” His fingers slip under my hair and flex against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. Something shifts between us, and suddenly I’m hot all over.
