“Oh! Oh, wow. Uh—” Brielle’s voice cuts through my brain fog. It grows muted when she adds, “Yeah, they’re here! Just give them a second!”
I tense when we break apart, rocks filling my stomach at the thought of Aubrey changing her mind and pushing me off. But instead, she bumps the tips of our noses and smooths a hand down my chest, taking that fear from me. Her touch remainsfirm on my body, almost claiming, when she moves to my side, facing Brielle.
“Hey, Elle. Sorry we’re late.”
“It’s totally fine.I mean, at least it was for a good reason,” she says, and I can hear the smirk in her voice.
I keep my back to them for another few seconds and steady my breathing before turning around. Aubrey’s hand drops to my belt loop before she slips a finger through it.
“At least it wasn’t your brother that went looking for us.”
“Good point. He’d have taken his phone out and started recording. Maybe the two of you should thank me, actually,” Brielle suggests coyly.
Aubrey snorts. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Well, you’re mine now, anyway. Sorry, Finny. I’ve waited extra long to dance with my bestie.”
I don’t have a chance to react before Brielle’s swooping in and hauling Aubrey away from me in a cloud of pink glitter and red hair. My frown is immediate, even when my girl blows me a kiss over her shoulder and then disappears behind a wall. The cheers that follow her appearance carry easily over the performer onstage.
With a sigh, I step out from the hiding spot. The sight of my closest friends passing Aubrey around for hugs melts all the annoyance Brielle sparked. It’s impossible to keep from smiling when even Asher stands from his stool at the small bar and envelops her in his arms. Despite the wiggle of barbaric jealousy that follows the friendly embrace, I make no move to interrupt when she squeezes him back.
It ends quickly, and then she’s rolling her eyes at something Wes says to her and tugging on his ear. He reaches up and swatsher away when I start their way. My arrival is noticed by Kellan first, and he extends his hand to me before we shake and hug.
“Finally!” he shouts way too close to my ear. “We were debating sending a search party out.”
“And who would that have been?” I ask when we separate.
“Wes, of course.”
Beck slaps me on the back, having come up the stairs that lead to a group of leather seats. I survey the rest of the suite, noting the typical Vancouver Warriors logo marked all over the leather stools and art pieces slung up on the dark walls. It’s the same type of branding the Havoc have throughout our stadium. One of the biggest differences between where the hockey team plays and where we do is that it’s a hell of a lot smaller and fits fewer people.
Yeah, I’m smug.
It only takes me half a breath to be able to tell that Wes is floating on quite a few drinks when I go to his side and grab the top of his head, jostling it. His groan fills the space, followed by a rough shove at my chest.
“Do you want me to barf on you?”
“Don’t tell me you’re already feeling sick,” I mutter, bending slightly to examine his face.
He blows a raspberry. “I’m not sick. I’m staaaaarving, and Rome won’t let us get food yet.”
My brows jump into my hairline. I do a quick sweep over the bare island where the usual catering is nowhere to be seen. “He’s here?”
“Yeah, surprising, right? I don’t know what made him drag his ass out with us, but he’s sitting down there right now. Apparently, he likes whoever it is up onstage.” Beck points past Wes’ head to the stairs.
“Who is it?”
“Hell if I know.” Beck shrugs before tipping his crystal glass back, finishing off whatever he was drinking.
Wes shakes his head, craning his head around to try and look at where Roman must be sitting. “Actually, he was an ass to my sister and then put himself in a time out chair.”
“To Brielle? I didn't think I was that oblivious,” Beck says.
“Well, you are. And just as a reminder, my sister is off limits to all of you! Yes, I’m looking at you, Asher. Don’t even think about using that bad boy thing to try and win her over. She’s dated too many losers.”
I inwardly wince when Wes airs Brielle’s dirty laundry for everyone to hear. When I look across the suite, I see Aubrey wrapping an arm around her friend’s midsection to keep her from storming over and beating her drunk brother black and blue. I smack him upside the head instead, earning a nod from the women.
“Don’t be an asshole, Wes!” Brielle shouts, a nude lip pulled back.
