Blair makes a little humming noise. Her gaze has a far-off quality to it, and I’m not sure she’s even paying attention to where we’re going, or if she’s just trusting me to lead her safely to my car. I’m happy she trusts me, but not happy about that look in her eyes or that my dad is the reason it’s there.
It was really fucking rich of my dad to make accusations about Blair trying to trap me when he’s knowingly married half a dozen women who’ve done the same damn thing. Blair is nothing like those women, which I’m sure he’s aware of. She just bruised his ego when she shot him down.
I shake my head. I can’t believe he hit on her. Well, I can. He hits on every beautiful young woman, and he’s apparently going through another divorce, so he must be on the prowl for a replacement. Despite his age, and regularly going for women much younger than him, he doesn’t strike out often. He’s handsome for an older guy, and with the way he dresses, it’s clear he has money. When he sets his sights on a woman just as predatory as him, they usually jump at the chance to be spoiled.
But Blair isn’t predatory, and that’s where he made his mistake.
I wanted to tell him to fuck off. To really dig in and defend Blair. I wanted to tell him that, for the first time, I’ve been rethinking my stance on long-term relationships and even marriage. I’m still not sold on it—Maddox and Griffin are the only people I’ve seen do marriage well—but Blair makes me want things I never have before.
But my dad doesn’t deserve an explanation. He doesn’t deserve to know anything about the state of my heart or the status of my relationship.
And I know Blair’s worried about our relationship going public and affecting her job. The last thing I want to do is subject her to the kind of scrutiny and attention my dad was garnering.
I need to remember to talk to the team about us. There are no rules against dating within the organization, but it’s pretty clear Blair needs some extra reassurance.
I open the car door for my angel but stop her before she can climb in. Cupping her face with both hands, I do the only thing I can think of to wipe away that pinched expression.
It takes a moment for her lips to soften against mine, but soon Blair grabs my arms and relaxes against me. She sighs into my mouth and opens as I trace the seam of her lips with my tongue. The kiss is hard, needy, and all too brief as Reed clears his throat loudly in the back seat.
“I’m going to need therapy,” he chirps.
Smiling against her lips, I press my forehead to Blair’s before pulling away. There’s still tension in her brow and jaw, but she’s no longer frowning. I wish her smile was brighter, but we’ll get there. I refuse to let my dad ruin this night for us.
“Come on, angel. Let’s go hang out with our friends and get some food.”
“Okay,” she whispers, her brown eyes searching mine. Just as I’m starting to worry she’s still pissed, and maybe at me, she smiles softly and goes up on her toes to press a sweet kiss to my lips.
The drive to Chasers is quiet at first. I even have a hard time getting Reed to engage with me. But by the time I’m parking, he’s recounting the shot I made while I was falling, and he, at least, is back to his normal self.
The crowd cheers when we walk in. It’s always full of Rogues fans after a game, and they get particularly loud when we win. I lead Blair and Reed back to our normal booth, where the guys and their women are already settled. There’s a round of beer on the table and a Coke for Reed.
“Hey,” Sebastian says, scooting in for us. Reed slides in first, then Blair, and I take up my position on the outside. It’s anunspoken rule that we never leave the ladies on the edge. While the fans are typically respectful, it’s not a risk any of us are willing to take. “You all good?”
“Yeah. Sorry about the scene earlier.”
“Why are you apologizing?” Griffin asks. “Your dad’s the one who’s a dick.”
“Seriously,” Lexi pipes up. “I thought mine was the only asshole father in the group. Yours is almost as bad.”
Lexi’s dad was our former head coach, and he was a raging piece of shit who made some pretty awful public comments about her that resulted in him being fired last year. She knows a thing or two about crappy fathers.
“Yeah, he’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type.”
“You okay, Blair?” Isla leans forward, her eyebrows knit together.
Blair blinks a few times before she focuses on Isla across the booth. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”
I find her hand under the table and lace our fingers together. She keeps saying she’s okay, but I’m not convinced. There’s something hesitant about the way she’s acting right now, and it makes my stomach twist.
Relationships are new territory for me. I’m an expert at reading certain cues from women. When they’re interested, when they’re horny, when they’re down for some no-strings-attached fun, or when they’re secretly hoping it will turn into something more.
What I’m not great at reading are all the other emotions.
I can tell Blair isn’t happy, but is it because of what my dad said, or did I do something wrong?
I’m sure I did something wrong. But the question is, what?
To my relief, Blair moves closer when I tug her tighter against my side. And when she rests her head on my shoulder, that tight ball of anxiety in my chest loosens somewhat.
