Not that Leon gives a shit what I think or want.
Anger starts to burn deep inside me, pushing away some of my anxiety. This entitled prick… I can’t even stand the feel of his touch on my arm. Is this really the kind of guy my parents want me to be with?
Do they actually know me at all?
“Oh, is that Bradley Hastings?” Leon waves his hand at some poor guy who looks startled to be singled out. “I must say hello.”
Seeing my opening, I slip from his grasp. “You go on and catch up. I’m going to go to the bar.”
He gives me a frown. “You should come with?—”
“No, no, it’s okay,completelyokay,” I insist in the nicest tone I can muster, while already pulling away. However, my voice trembles a bit on the last few words before I can steady it. Fuck,did he notice? My heart is pounding in my chest. I feel trapped. I need to get out of here and the fuck away from Leon. “I’d hate to intrude. We’ll catch up later. Bye!”
Before he can sputter out a response, I turn and hurry away, slipping into the crowd. Thank God! If I had to put up with his bullshit for another moment, I was going to lose my mind.
I’m breathless. My heart is racing so fast that I have the momentary worry that I might actually have a heart attack. I make a beeline for the bar, needing something with a lot more kick than champagne.
I need everything to just go… numb. Just for a little while. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this situation.
When I reach the bar, the bartender comes right over to me.
“What can I get you?” he asks with a bright, charming smile.
“Vodka martini. Dirty.”
“You got it.” He slips away to make my drink, and I lean against the bartop, releasing a long sigh. I clench my hands into fists to try, and stop the tremors in my fingers.
I can’t believe this is happening. Can’t Mom see how awful Leon is? Is she so distracted trying to rekindle her friendship with Aubrey that she’s totally blind to how shitty these people are? Mom has always been trusting, but I wouldn’t call her naive. What is it about Aubrey? As far as I can tell, the woman is an ice-cold bitch…
“Long night, Starling?”
The deep voice interrupting my thoughts startles me, and I blink. Starling? What the hell?
I turn to face the guy, saying, “It’s actually Sutton, not…” but the words die on my tongue when I lock eyes with a tall, handsome man that I instantly recognize.
“Oh my gosh! Jayce?” I’d know that blue gaze and golden, surfer-boy locks anywhere. His crooked little smile is effortlessly charming, and his broad shoulders and lean body looksogoodin that black suit that I’d think he was a movie star if I didn’t know he was a hockey player. Of all the Night Hawks, he has the most dynamic presence, walking into a room and simply owning it with a cool confidence that I can’t help but envy and admire. “Wait,” I say, “what are you doing here?”
He gives me a smile that would make any girl swoon. “Nice to see you again, Sutton. It’s been a minute.”
This isn’t our first time crossing paths, but we’ve never talked much. We last saw each other in January when we all went to Estes Park for a little post-Christmas “Friendsmas” gathering with all my best friends who are, coincidentally, mostly married, dating, or engaged to his teammates. Jayce was a day late, so I didn’t see him too much. Still, I had to fight to keep my eyes off him. Who could blame me? Jayce is sexy as fuck. Wedidalso dance at our friends’ wedding. Remembering the way his big hands held me… the heat of his body pressed against mine…
Sheesh, I need to calm down! All we did was dance, and I’m getting worked up like we shot a porno together. In my defense, too, I have been suffering through the longest dry spell in the history of humanity.
“I noticed you slipping that skinny guy before,” Jayce says with a chuckle. “You need a scapegoat? Feel free to use me as an excuse for you ditching him, if that helps.”
I let out a laugh and shake my head. “Thanks, but I’m good. Though if you see him coming, let me know. It’ll give me time to escape.”
“You got it.”
The bartender appears with my martini and as I pick it up for a sip, Jayce moves to sit in the seat right next to me. Good Lord, he’s big. I have to tilt my head back just to meet his gaze.
I clear my throat, feeling suddenly hot, and it’s not the vodka. “So, uh, you never answered. What are you doing here? It’s the middle of hockey season.”
He nods and takes a drink of the amber liquid in the glass he’s holding. “No game this weekend, so I promised my grandfather I’d come. He wants me to start schmoozing with potential clientele more.”
“Oh?” I frown. “You’re working for your family’s company now?”
“Not yet.” He takes another drink and rests one hand on the back of my chair, boxing me in, and I do not mind. “I’m supposed to take over Parker Global when I’m thirty-five, after I retire from hockey.”
