Though she always tried to hide it, I knew Chloe had trouble fitting in with the wives and girlfriends of my past teammates. It always seemed like they had nothing in common, and they couldn’t connect no matter how many times they tried. I hated it. I wanted her to feel that same sense of camaraderie I did. She deserved that, and she definitely deserved a closer friend than Talia, who was all the way in Tennessee and could only visit every so often since she was busy being a single mom.
“Yeah,” she confirms. “We had a lot of fun during the game. And I got to learn what a grump you’re known to be.”
I’ve never been the best with people, but something certainly changed when Chloe left, and I became an even worse version of myself than I’d ever been before. I knew it was a problem—hence the Serpents Singles vow—but I was too pissed off at the time to care. I care now, though, and that has everything to do with Chloe being back.
“Yo!” Two hands land on my shoulders. “What a block, number 10! What a fucking block!”
The overwhelming smell of booze tickles my nose, and since we’re standing in a bar full of it, that says something. I try to shake the unfamiliar meaty palms off me, but they’re strong, and the person they belong to is obviously drunk as he tries to shoulder in between Chloe and me.
“Excuse me. Can’t you see I’m trying to talk to my man? Get lost, lady.”
I push off the bar in a flash, and the guy—whoever the fuck he is—goes stumbling backward. He trips over his own feet, barely catching himself on a table to keep from falling to the sticky floor.
“What the…” His features darken. “What the hell, man? I was just trying to talk!”
“No, you weren’t. You were invading my space.” I take a step toward him. “And you were being an asshole.”
He scoffs. “What? To her?” He waves Chloe’s way. “Who fucking gives a shit about her?”
“Considering she’s mywife, I do.”
His eyes widen, and he holds his hands up. “Shit, man. I-I-I-I’m sorry. I-I-I had n-no idea. I didn’t mean anything by it, bro. Swear.” He looks at Chloe. “I’m sorry, Mrs. K-Keller. Trul-ly.”
“Yeah, well, you can be fucking sorry outside. Get the fuck out.”
“I—wait, you can’t kick me out!”
“Yes, he can,” the bartender says, pointing toward the door. “Now get out before I call security and have you removed.”
The guy starts to say something else, but I take another step toward him, and he thinks better of it. He turns on his heel and practically runs out of the bar, or at least the best a drunk person can.
I swing around to Chloe. “Are you okay?” I ask her, cupping her face. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, no. I’m good. Are you okay?”
“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I can hold my own.”
“Oh, I’m aware, Mr. Leads the Team in PIMs.”
I wince. I’m usually proud of that title because my not being afraid to drop the gloves gives my team an advantage, but I know she always hated it when I fought. She used to fret over me, panic about the bruising. She would—wait a minute.
“How do you know that?”
“What?”
“How do you know that? How do you know I lead the team in penalty minutes?”
“Oh.” She shrugs. “I, uh, I watched your games. It was a real pain to keep up with them with the time zone differences, but I always tried or watched replays the next day.”
“I was only teasing you at the coffee shop, but…you really watch my games, Clover?”
She nods. “Yeah, I really watch your games, Callum.”
I don’t think—I just act. Not caring about waiting for our drinks, I grab her hand and pull her to the only private place I can think of in this damn place. I don’t stop, even when people cast curious glances our way. I keep going until we’re tucked safely into the dark corridor leading to the bathrooms, then I back her against the wall and press my body against hers.
“What are you?—”
“I want to kiss you again. Can I?”
