He sighs and finally lifts his eyes to meet mine. “I’m not going to say why. You guys already fucking hate her enough.”
And there it is. Exactly what I suspected. I exhale loudly and give him a short nod. I search for a tactful way to respond. “It’s not like we want to hate Ainsley. We’d love to love her, Chooch. We would. All of us. The wives, the girlfriends, the players, the fucking staff. Wewantto like her.”
He laughs bitterly at that and gives me a hard smirk. It’s odd on his youthful, goofy face. It makes him look older than his twenty-seven years. “But she gives you no reason to like her,” he admits. “And lately she’s been giving me no reason to like her either.”
Jordan appears next to me, two bottles of beer in one hand and Chooch’s glass of bourbon in the other. He hands me a beer; Chooch grabs the bourbon and finishes half of it in one gulp before Jordan can even lift his beer to his lips.
“So…” Jordan says tentatively, and he glances at me as he sits down. “Are we at the part where he admits his girlfriend is ruining his game, or are we still in denial?”
I try not to smile. I fucking love Jordan Garrison. He has this ridiculous way of being charming and a trainwreck at the same time. Before he settled down, it used to get him an outlandish amount of tail. Of course back then he was more trainwreck than charming, but still. It worked for him. That’s never been my goal, hooking up with girls whose names I don’t know, but it was still oddly impressive.
What’s more impressive, though, is what he has with Jessie. I first met Jordan when he was drafted to the Hawks. I’d already been on the team a year, after spending my first year after my draft in the minors, and this tall blond kid with the crooked smile just walks right on and takes a starting forward position. I’d heard of him, of course; any kid coming up in amateur hockey knew about the legendary Garrison family. Every kid was a better player than the next. I hated him before I met him because I’d busted my ass to be good at hockey. It had never come easy. And I didn’t have his perfect siblings. I had one sister who was a high school dropout with drug problems and I had divorced parents. But after about a week I realized you couldn’t hate Jordan Garrison. He was a hardworking, solid teammate and just generally a nice guy. And I saw what others might miss: a dark, sad look that came over him when he thought no one was paying attention. That’s been gone since Jessie came back into his life.
“As usual, Jordy, you’re a soft shoulder to cry on,” Chooch mutters and takes another swig of bourbon.
“Choochie, I love you like a brother,” Jordan begins and pauses to sip his beer again. “But you and Ainsley are…worse than ever. And I don’t even know how that’s possible, because it always seemed pretty shitty to me.”
Chooch cringes. I can’t help but cringe too, even though it’s the truth.
“We used to be good together,” he explains, the frustration evident in his voice. “I don’t know why the hell things changed.”
Jordan reaches over and squeezes Chooch’s shoulder. “I don’t like seeing you miserable, man.”
“I don’t like being miserable,” he admits and swirls the drops of brown liquid left in his glass. “It’s got to pass. It’s always passed before.”
I put my beer down on the table and say quietly, “Has it really ever passed? I mean…if this isn’t the first time she’s made you miserable, then…it’s not going to be the last, Mikey. I think the only way it’s going to be the last is if you make it the last time.”
His eyes meet mine, and I watch a flurry of emotions tumble through them—anger, frustration, denial and a glimmer of recognition. That glimmer means, deep down, Chooch knows I speak the truth. But still he shakes his head. “I’ve been with her since I was fifteen, Seb. You don’t know what that’s like.”
“No. I don’t,” I admit freely. “But if the spark is gone—”
“You always say that,” he cuts me off, with an edge to his tone I can’t ignore. “I love you, Seb, but you’re not the person to give me relationship advice. You haven’t had a real one yet.”
Wow. He’s being a fucking dick. I take another swig of my beer. “I know real love isn’t torture, Chooch. Tell him, Jordy.”
Jordan glances between us with an awkward expression. “You really want my opinion? On love?”
“You’re in it, right?” I reply as I reach up and loosen my tie.
“Yeah.” He smiles and I know he’s thinking of Jessie. “But that doesn’t mean I know shit.”
“Just regale us with your take, okay?” I demand.
“True love shouldn’t torture,” Jordan says and scratches at the blond stubble peppering his face. “But it should have the potential to be. Like, the thought of living without her is torture. Not the thought of living with her.”
We both look at Chooch. His dark expression gets darker. Like midnight dark. “I need another bourbon.”
“Allow me.” I stand up, grab his empty glass as I swallow the last of my beer, and turn to push my way through the crowd to the bar.
I reach the bar, which is crowded, and wait until two guys at the end get their drinks from Audrey and clear a space. She doesn’t see me yet. She’s spun around to the other side of the bar to serve some other customers. I glance at them while I wait. Long brown hair, big kitten gray eyes. A vibrant smile that sends a jolt of desire into my pants. She’s here. I smile. What fucking luck.
Chapter 17
Shayne
“I’m so glad you came!” Audrey grins at us. “It’s packed tonight, but you guys will get special treatment, I promise. So Shayne will have the regular, I’m sure. What about you, Jessie?”
“What’s your usual?” Jessie asks me.
