How could I possibly say no to that?
We slip back into the house, and it looks like everyone else went to bed. Good. I don’t need to deal with my sister. For as big as Wolfe is, being a goalie made him pretty graceful, so we move in silence, getting to the stairs when someone clears their throat.
I spin and find Mark sitting with a glass of scotch, sitting in a decorative chair in the formal living room.
No one even uses that room. What the fuck is he doing?
“What do you want?” Wolfe crosses his arms, defensive already, so I put a hand on him, like I can hold back the attack.
“Do you two just get off on embarrassing her?” His words are low and forced out through gritted teeth. Whatever Mark believes, it’s a big deal.
What the fuck could Steph have said?
I’m not even scared of him, I’m fucking curious.
“What are you talking about?” Wolfe asks.
“From one goalie to another, I thought there was more respect.”
“Why the fuck would you think I owe you respect? You play for the worst fucking team in the league, and you’ve threatened my boyfriend.” The way he says boyfriend makes my stomach flip. I should not like it as much as I do.
“The team plays the way they do because of our former coach. He’s gone. But there should still be respect among goalies!” Mark shoves to his feet.
Wolfe levels him in a stare. “Not with douche bag ones.”
I tighten my grip on Wolfe because this seems like it’s going to devolve fast. “Let’s go to bed.”
“No, first I want to know what this motherfucker’s problem is.”
“I’m the motherfucker?” Mark points to himself.
“Yes, you threatened Angel and keep doing this shit. I want to know what your problem is.” Wolfe glances at me, clearly in a ‘who does this guy think he is’ way.
“She told me what you did.” Mark turns his head away, and it almost looks like his eyes are watering? Is he crying?
“What I did? I was nothing but good to her, and she cheated on me the first fucking chance she got.” Wolfe clearly didn’t clock the emotion on Mark’s face.
Mark gasps and stalks up to Wolfe to jab a finger into his chest. “Don’t you fucking make up lies because you can’t deal with your own guilt.”
“My guilt?” Wolfe pulls his head back like he can’t believe Mark has the gall. The height difference between them is super evident. Wolfe’s got like six inches on him, but that doesn’t seem to faze Mark.
“You both owe her an apology and to stop flaunting your relationship in her face.” Mark shoves past Wolfe, shoulder-checking him.
I wrap my arms around Wolfe’s bicep so he doesn’t go after him. “Just let him go.”
“He fucking ran into me.” Wolfe doesn’t fight me, which I’m thankful for because I would lose. “I have every right to hit him.”
“It’s not worth it. Steph will just make it a problem.”
He groans. “I need a Dr. Pepper if I’m going to quell this rage.”
“A Dr. Pepper and then a blow job?”
He side-eyes me then nods. “That might calm me down.”
“It better. We need to sleep before everyone comes over tomorrow for Christmas Eve.”
We head to the kitchen, and I open the fridge, but there isn’t any Dr. Pepper in there.
