Exhaling roughly, I peeled the wet label off my water bottle.
“Chaos?” Max said, resting his elbows on the table, leaning closer, so I could hear him over the music. “We would never intrude, you know this, but if you care about Charli, and she’s it for you, then talk to her.”
“Yeah.” Jack nodded his agreement. “Don’t leave it for later or for someone else to drop it on her.”
I lowered my gaze to the Aquafina bottle. I’d been in a dark place most of my life. Hockey and the wins helped briefly push everything to the back, but the shadows always lurked.
With Charli, I saw an inkling of hope, of peace.
Would she want to leave if I told her the truth? My gut twisted that she might, causing acid to gnaw my insides. No matter what my friends said, I didn’t dare take the risk of telling her so soon. We’d barely started our relationship. Hell, it was mere hours old, and I refused to lose her.
“So, did you see the illustration?” Max asked then, dragging me out of my brooding.
I frowned at his smirking expression. “What illustration?”
“One Charli sent to Ila—”
“Who the hell is that?” Jack growled. “And why are they looking at him like he hung the moon?”
My head snapped in the direction he glared. My jaw tightened at seeing a dark-haired guy with his arm around Charli, who looked so fucking happy. This dirtbag couldn’t be another cheating ex since she was smiling. My gaze lowered, my fingers clamping around the bottle, squishing the plastic. I fought the urge to get up, punch the daylights out of him, and drag her away.
“You know Max, right?” Charli said in an almost yell above the music.
“Yes,” the dick finally let her go and nodded. He reached out, and Max, my best bud, rose and shook hands. “It’s been a while, Julian.”
Jack frowned at me, discreetly shaking his head in warning. Max cut me a furtive look of the same. The woman had no idea of the lit fuse to a keg of dynamite I was.
Jack stood, but at Charli’s frown, I did, too.
“That’s Jack Griffin, Ray’s husband,” Max said smoothly. “And this is Eli Warrick.”
Charli stepped closer, and I put my arm around her, drawing her to me. The dick narrowed his eyes, then lifted an eyebrow.
“Yes, I saw you both on Instagram,” he murmured, tone cool.
My expression equally cool, I remained silent. I could feel Charli’s stare burning holes in my face as she introduced us. “War, this is Julian Dupont, mystepbrother.”
It mattered little to me. They weren’t blood.
“Yes, the hockey player, I know.” He held out his hand.
I didn’t fucking do handshakes. Then Charli put her arm around my waist, leaned her head against my chest, and the turmoil within quieted. I shook his hand.
“Just so you know, you hurt her, and I’m coming after you.” His eyes resembled gray stones, his warning blunt.
“Julian, please,” Charli groaned.
His stare shifted to her and softened, but he let out a long-suffering sigh. I clenched my teeth. Yeah, I was a possessive bastard, especially when it came to Charli.
“Very well. I’ll lay off the player for now,” the ass said, but I got his point loud and clear. “That weasel, Craig, got away because he’s always flying off somewhere—”
“Oh, he’s back in town,” Ray helpfully added.
“Is he now?” A gleam transformed his eyes to titanium bullets.
“Julian, God, don’t.” Charli reached out as if to stop him, but then she dropped her hand. “Besides, I took care of it.”
“I would have castrated him, not burned his clothes,” he retorted. “If he can’t keep his dick zipped, he shouldn’t come anywhere near you.”
