That should feel dramatic.
It mostly feels true.
Chapter eight
Jax
Brodywolf-whistlesbeforeI’mthrough the door.
So it’s going to be that kind of night.
“Not a fucking word.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
Sebastian has his phone out before I’ve even put my jacket down. Caleb offers me a mint. Aiden says nothing, which says everything. Liam looks up from his phone, looks back down, and says, “Don’t embarrass us.”
From Liam, that’s basically a speech.
“You clean up good, goalie boy,” Brody says.
“I hate this shit.”
“The monkey suit?”
“All of it. The suit. The event. The whole situation.”
“You look great, though.”
“Shut the fuck up, Brody.”
“Just saying—”
“Sit down.”
He sits down, still grinning. I grab my keys and get out before anybody says anything else.
She opens the door on the second knock.
Jesus.
She’s in a dress. Dark. Hits mid-thigh. The neckline does something that makes it very difficult to be a serious person right now, and her hair is loose around her shoulders and her green eyes are sharp and already laughing at me.
My cock kicks.
Just like that. Done.
I keep my face as neutral as I can manage because I’ve been controlling my crease for ten years and I should be able to manage this.
Probably.
Barely.
“You’re staring,” she says.
“Yeah.”
