Seb’s eyes lock with mine. His lips tug up in a soft smirk that makes me smile. I let go of Jessie and extend my hand to shake his. His grip is firm, which is a total turn-on. I can’t deal with guys who shake a girl’s hand limply because they’re afraid to hurt them.
“Callie,” he says my name. “You are Luc’s girlfriend?”
“The French Disaster? God, no!” I blurt out, and Jessie laughs.
“That’s Rosie, our youngest sister,” Jessie explains.
“I’m one hundred percent single,” I proclaim, and he chuckles at that.
“Good to know,” he says before adding, “I hope to see you after the game.”
He continues down the hall. I turn my head to watch him go. Jessie is watching me with a raised eyebrow. I grin at her. “I want that.”
“Oh my God.” Jessie giggles and tugs me toward a door that leads to a staircase. “I don’t know if he can handle you.”
“Can we find out? Please?”
We head up the stairs to the main level, where our seats are located. “Well, Jordan wants to go out after. I’m sure Sebastian will be there and you’re obviously welcome to come with us.”
I’m excited now. But as we hit the bustling concourse, reality sets in and I grab her hand again and pull her close. “Jessie, Donna and Wyatt don’t know what Ashleigh did,” I explain in a hushed voice. “Devin will tell them and Jordan when he’s ready, and we shouldn’t do it for him, okay?”
Jessie nods. “I won’t tell them.”
Chapter 15
Devin
We’ve only been at the bar twenty minutes and I’m already more stressed and angry than I was on the ice. It’s fucking stupid. My team won. I should be just as happy as Larue and Loops, who are clinking their celebratory beers together. But I know, despite the win, Jordan outplayed me. And worse, I know he knows it. He’s not saying it—yet. He’s just laughing with his teammates about something. He brought his buddy Sebastian Deveau, his goalie Chooch and some rookie named Kennedy with him. They are nice enough guys but I am so not in the mood for a big group tonight.
I head to the bar and notice Seb is over by the pool tables playing a game with Callie. Well, they’re holding pool cues, but the balls look untouched and he’s leaning in pretty close to her as she says something to him. He smiles and she laughs, tipping her head back, her long, wavy brown hair tumbling over her shoulders in sexy waves.
My shoulders get tighter. I order a drink and turn to find Jordan standing right behind me. He must have followed me from the table.
“Don’t let your little French Canadian Casanova get any ideas about Callie,” I warn Jordan sharply.
He glances over at Callie and Seb and snorts. “Please, I’m more worried about Seb than Callie. Callie will have him begging for mercy.”
“Whatever.” I shake my head, throw some money on the bar and grab my drink. Jordan isn’t moving out of my way. I glare at him.
“Can we talk for a second?” Jordan asks quietly.
“If you’re just going to brag about the fucking face-off wins, then no.”
He rolls his eyes. “Actually, I wanted to know how you’re doing. Why are you in your own place?”
“Because my wife is a horrible bitch,” I snap and move to get around him.
He grabs my elbow lightly. “Dev…come on,” he chastises me softly. “Don’t talk like that. You love Ashleigh.”
“I thought I did,” I reply, and it stings somewhere deep in my chest where my heart used to be.
“Is this just because she’s hesitating about more kids?” Jordan rolls his eyes again and I want to punch him. “She’ll come around. Let Jessie talk to her tomorrow. She’s got the whole hockey wife thing down already.”
He looks so proud and so happy and so in love. And even though I know how immature it is, I fucking hate him for it.
“You win face-offs and you pick the perfect woman. Gee, Jordy, is there anything you can’t fucking do?” I hiss and storm off.
He follows me, of course. Jordan never backs down—not even when he should. I get to the table and before I can sit down, his hand clamps down on my shoulder. I spin to face him. Our body language must be completely confrontational because his buddies Chooch and Kennedy stop talking with Jessie and stare up at us.
