Mr. Swoony (The Nest #3)

Chapter 30

Thirty

Conor

We arrive at the venue where our agent, Jagger, is holding the gathering tonight.

Eloise looks stunning. The dress she chose hugs all her natural curves, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up in a fight by the end of the night. Especially since she won’t allow me to stand next to her for longer than a minute before she finds some excuse to leave my side.

She’s a hot single woman in a room full of horny hockey players. Sure, some are married or in committed relationships, but the majority aren’t, and I’ve caught more than one of them watching her.

I’m in a huddle just off the bar with Henry, Tweetie, and Rowan.

“So, what’d you do?” Tweetie asks.

Henry and Rowan look between us, seeming confused. They were probably too enamored with their own women to notice the cold shoulder Eloise is giving me.

The last thing I’m going to do is tell them about the sex list.

“Nothing,” I say.

The three of them raise their eyebrows and share a look with one another.

“Let us more experienced guys help you out.” Rowan nods to Henry.

“Christ, it’s been, like, a year for you, Magic,” Tweetie says.

“Longer than you.” Rowan is baiting Tweetie to try to pry out more information about Tedi and whatever happened that turned Tweetie into the man he is now.

Tweetie ignores his comment. “I’m going to get a drink.”

“Okay, what’s going on with you two?” Henry steps closer, our circle growing smaller.

“We’re getting closer,” I admit.

“Isn’t that the point? The whole reason you stopped her wedding?” Rowan sips his drink.

“Yeah, but it’s only been, like, a month. She just had her final conversation with Tristan.” I bring my drink to my lips.

“So what, she walked into your room wearing lingerie and fuck-me heels, and you denied her? I don’t get why you’re fighting it.” Henry looks over his shoulder to make sure no one is paying us any attention.

How much self-control does he think I have?

“I’m not getting into the whole thing, but there wasn’t lingerie or fuck-me heels. We didn’t even kiss, but the gist is I told her she wasn’t ready.”

They both rear their heads back, look at one another, and burst out laughing. Assholes.

“I’m doing her a favor.” I bring my drink to my lips, the ice knocking together since it’s almost empty. I finish it and set it on a nearby table. I cannot get drunk tonight. All my inhibitions will dissolve, and I’ll wake up in Eloise’s bed. If she’d even let me in, that is.

“Keep going. This is hilarious.” Rowan’s face is red from laughing at my expense.

“Fuck you guys.” I pivot to walk away, but Henry grabs my elbow.

“Sorry, sorry. But your mistake was telling her that she isn’t ready. What were you thinking?”

I shove my hands in my pockets and shrug. “Because there’s no way she is.”

“And why do you think you’re the one to make that decision?” Rowan asks.

“I’m saving her.”

“Saving her?” Henry’s head rocks back, laughing so loudly we’re garnering attention.

What a dick.

“My power crew.” Jagger comes over and slaps my back. “Why don’t you have a drink?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer before he’s shaking hands with Rowan. “This is the year, right?”

“Wasn’t last year our year?” Henry jokes.

“I thought with Pinkie coming on the roster it was.” Jagger thumbs at me and smiles and winks.

He did negotiate a great deal for me to come to Chicago last year. It was exactly what I needed. I can understand why he left behind agenting for actors and actresses. I’m not sure if he was as good at working with movie stars as he is at working with professional athletes.

“It’s your year. I feel it in my gut. You played together for a while last year, now you’re all best friends. You can thank me at your parade.” He sips some of the dark liquor in his glass, his wedding ring glistening under the chandeliers.

We talk about the start of the season, and he congratulates Henry on his engagement, then proceeds to give Rowan shit for not proposing yet, and finally he turns to me. “So, your lady friend is garnering a lot of talk tonight.”

Fuck, I knew it.

“Why hasn’t she been by your side tonight?” he asks.

“He fucked up.” Rowan gives me a smug smile.

Jagger turns to me, laugher bubbling up out of him. “What did you do?”

“I’m not getting into it. And she’s not my lady.”

He glances around the immediate area, then leans in. “I would keep that information to yourself.”

“She is my fucking date though.”

He laughs. “I love athletes and their alpha protective competitive side. It’s like a trifecta only you assholes are born with.”

“I don’t think you’re that different,” I grumble.

“That’s why I understand you so well. We’re one and the same.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Now, go find your lady and clear this shit up before someone steals her away from you.”

Rowan and Henry don’t say anything.

Before I can respond, Quinn, Jagger’s wife, comes by. We all take turns hugging and kissing her on the cheek, saying our hellos. Jagger is quick to put his arm around her, his hand resting on her hip in a territorial and protective way. He catches me looking at his hand, and when I meet his eyes, he’s smiling at me, nodding for me to go.

“Hey, Quinn, you’re a romance writer, right?” Henry asks. “Is it true that hockey romance is a big thing?”

Quinn laughs and nods but pats Jagger’s chest. “It’s true. There’s a big market for sports romance these days, especially hockey. But I write about arrogant wealthy playboys and the women who bring them to their knees.”

Her and Jagger’s eyes lock, and it’s obvious how much they love one another. The admiration in his gaze is something I see in Henry and Rowan all the time.

She rises to her tiptoes, and he lowers his head to kiss her. “I’m going to call the kids.”

“I’ll meet you on the balcony in a second,” he says.

She puts her hand on my bicep. “I met Eloise. She’s sweet. Don’t mess it up.”

All three assholes laugh.

“Too late,” Rowan says.

She draws back and waits for me to explain. When I don’t say anything, she hooks her arm in mine. “Escort me over to the balcony.”

“Hey, remember how you got that big salary. She’s mine,” Jagger calls out behind us.

Quinn pats my hand. “Don’t worry about him. He’s mostly bark, very little bite.”

I open the door to the balcony for her, and we walk to the railing overlooking the city. The sun has begun its descent, leaving us with pinks, oranges, and yellows in the sky.

I tell Quinn the short version of my whirlwind story with Eloise, and she listens, not interrupting at all.

“I just don’t want to be…” I stop myself because I haven’t felt this for any woman in my entire life, and I do not want to fuck this up. This thing between Eloise and me, it’s something I can’t explain. Something I’m scared of losing.

“You really like her.” Quinn faces the skyline. “Feelings are tricky little bastards. They can take over pretty quickly, and most of the time, it feels like they come out of nowhere. You met this person you weren’t expecting to, and it sends your life spiraling in a different direction.” She turns to me, resting her arm on the balcony. “It sounds like she wasn’t happy with her fiancé, and my assumption is that she feels something strong for you. That you’re giving her something he didn’t, and she wants to explore that some more.”

“But it’s only been?—”

“Time is relative, Conor. I’ve known people who fall in love in a month. I’ve known couples where it takes longer. Sometimes people are enemies at first who find themselves falling for each other.” She shrugs. “There’s a reason why there’s not one true definition of love.”

Love ? Who mentioned love?

She laughs and places her hand on my arm. “Don’t look so scared. All I’m saying is that it’s not for you to decide when and if she’s ready. Only she can make that decision. And it’s your job to trust that she’s making the right decision for her.”

My shoulders sag as I nod. I fucked up.

“You athletes crack me up. I think because you’re embarking on something you don’t have control over, you think it has to be hard, and you somehow have to be the one to take charge because that’s what you do in your sport. Think about it. You’re too slow, you practice to get faster. You’re not stopping the pucks enough, you see a coach to help you. You need more stamina, you work on your cardio and diet. You guys know how to navigate your career, but no one knows how to navigate love because it takes blind trust.”

I chuckle. “I can see why you write romance.”

She laughs and shakes her head, eyeing something or someone over my shoulder. “I think it’s my years of experience more than my writing skills. Plus, I’m married to a complicated man who took years to figure out what he lost before he came to his senses.”

“When I found you again, I didn’t give up though, did I?” Jagger comes around us and kisses his wife. “All done fixing my player?”

Quinn smiles at me. “He didn’t need much help, but I think he’s sorted.”

“Good. We can’t have the best goalie in the league fucked in the head over a girl.”

Quinn lightly smacks his stomach.

“You have ten minutes before I’m starting my speech, so go.” Jagger points. “You’ve taken enough of my wife’s time.” He steps between us, giving me his back.

I peek my head around his arm. “Thanks, Quinn.”

She winks. “Anytime.”

I leave them on the balcony, enter the ballroom, and scan the room until I find Eloise with a glass of wine in her hand. Talking to Rigby fucking Calloway.