“Hi, Brodie,” I say, giving him a quick wave. I take a deep breath and muster all the courage inside me that I can. “Hopefully, we can get to know each other a little better. But if you hurt my sister, I’ll crush you.”
Brodie and Bella double over in laughter.
My lips twitch.
I tried.
“I’m looking forward to getting to know you more, too. We’ll work on your threats, Little Silver.” He sticks out his hand. I’m slow to reach out at first, but I finally do it. I place my hand in his and shake it. Once, then twice.
Bella beams with pride and covers her lips with her fingertips.
It’s a simple greeting. A few words exchanged and a handshake, but I know she knows it runs deeper than that for me. To have her look at me that way makes it feel as though she’s saying, “I’m proud of you. You did it. Great job, baby sister.”
“We can go back inside now,” I say, taking a deep breath.
“Are you sure?” Bella asks. “We can have a girl’s night if you want?”
I look over at Brodie, who’s watching Bella with the kind of admiration that says she hung the moon, even though she’s talking about leaving.
“Bella said this event is important to you,” I say, pausing for a moment.
Brodie looks at me, his eyes filled with kindness. “Our friend Jack—we lost him last year. This night is to celebrate him.”
“I’m ready.”
Bella loops her arm around mine, and then we head for the door, entering the bar.
My eyes dartto the door as it opens, a flicker of recognition crossing my face, and a ghost of a smile tugs at my lips.
She’s back.
She walks through the bar, her posture tense, eyes flicking around as if preparing for an ambush. She’s not used to crowds—I can tell.
Brodie and Bella follow closely behind her. He told me earlier that he invited Bella, and she was bringing her sister along, who he hadn’t met but knew from Bella that she was shy and quiet.
I haven’t met Bella yet, either. I’ve seen her picture, but Brodie’s plan was to introduce us tonight, as they’ve been on enough dates to determine they’re serious about each other.
However, I didn’t anticipate my introduction to Erin would consist of me running into her…literally. And I wasn’t expecting her to be so damn beautiful.
It caught me off guard, that’s for sure.
I stared at her, struck by her gentle features for a few seconds before my brain kicked into gear and I found my words to ask if she was okay.
Just as Erin, Brodie, and Bella take their seats, the lights dim. Hollers and cheers ring out from every corner of the bar, and players move closer to the stage, drinks in hand.
I slide into a chair that’s been vacated, giving me a perfect view of the stage and Erin.
Rudy is the first to step up. He takes a swig of his drink, and his right hand combs through his rich, deep brown strands. The front pieces fall just past his forehead in soft curls, a sharp contrast to the neatly cropped sides.
I shake my head as I watch the right winger flirt with the women gathering in front of the stage, mischief dancing in his playful brown eyes. His attire is polished in a way that says he came to impress, but I know he did nothing more than shower and apply cologne and beard oil. That’s Rudy—effortless, smooth, and confident.
He taps on the mic twice, and it echoes loudly around the room.
“Miss you, brother,” he says into it, and then the music starts.
Laughter echoes as Rudy howls the lyrics to Jackson 5’s “Who’s Lovin’ You.” His voice dips and cracks as he pushes for the high notes, but he’s got the crowd and is giving a performance of a lifetime.
But my eyes are on Erin.
