Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MIA
O kay, well, Riley’s Bar is clearly the place everyone goes to after Scorpions games.
“Are you sure about this?” I tap Tara on the shoulder as we push and squeeze our way through the mass of bodies.
Nearly getting taken out by a big, brawny dude, she turns back to me. “Yeah, I told you, Leo booked a private booth.”
As I grip my bag closer to my side, embarrassment no doubt paints my cheeks redder than my reaction to this hot-as-fuck bar. The gift I got him is kind of embarrassing, but I couldn’t think of—or afford—anything else. Especially when we’ve only known each other since the start of the school year.
“I’m going to head to the restroom,” I announce as we finally reach the other side of the crowd and I can breathe again.
Swiveling around to me, Tara smirks. “You look perfect, babe, but I can understand why you’d want to look your best for Leo.”
“More the fact that I actually need to pee,” I reply dryly.
I’m at that point where I’ve given up on trying to correct Tara about Leo. He’s nice to look at, but he does nothing for me.
The cooler air from the bar restroom hits me as soon as I push through the door, and I shake out my long hair and pull off my jacket, instantly feeling the benefit before looping it over my shoulder bag.
“Unbearable out there, right?”
A petite brunette looks at me in the mirror as she washes her hands and then begins drying them on paper towels.
She’s pretty—really pretty. Definitely older and somehow kind of familiar.
And British.
“Yeah. Kind of wish I’d worn my hair up tonight.” Trying to gather my it into a tight, high ponytail, I begin searching through my bag for a hairbrush and tie. “Dammit.” Pulling out the brush, I set it to the side and then root around for the black hair tie I’m sure I picked up from my dresser.
“What’s the matter?” the pretty brunette asks as she begins applying hand cream.
As I drop my shoulders in defeat, I try one last time, looking in a zipped side pocket. “Ugh. I was sure I’d brought a tie with me.”
“I got you.”
When she bends down to her side, that’s when I see it—the large black tote bag next to her feet. She sets it on the counter and then pulls out a cosmetic purse, handing me a black tie with a smile. “Here you go.”
It’s a tiny gesture, but coming from a stranger in a big city like this, it somehow means something. I take the tie from her as my eyes snag on the impressive emerald rock on her left hand.
That’s some ring.
“Thank you. That’s really kind.”
As I gather my hair, she stands, watching me in the mirror, her head cocked slightly to the side.
We stare at each other for just a couple of beats, but it’s not uncomfortable.
“Are you here with friends?” she asks, her English accent noticeable.
“Yeah,” I say on a semi-sigh. “We’re celebrating a birthday. We have a private booth in the back.”
“Oh, that’s where we’re sitting.”
“You come here a lot?”
She smiles and begins applying some gloss. “Yeah. Typically when we’re celebrating a win.”
“Scorpions girl?” I ask.
Her face seems even more familiar as she fluffs out her thick chocolate-colored hair.
“You bet. You?”
“Getting there, I guess. I’ve always followed the Destroyers.”
For a second, I think about telling her who my dad is, but right at the final moment, I change my mind. There’s something about her that draws me in. Apart from Jessie, she feels like the closest thing to someone I can trust since arriving in Seattle. Still, I don’t know her.
“Well, I won’t hold that against you.” She clips the cap back on her gloss and tosses it into her cosmetic bag. “I can definitely recommend the cosmos here if you’re a cocktail girl.”
“Oh, I don’t drink much, but thanks, although I might make an exception tonight. I think my student budget could stretch to one.”
She smiles again and turns to me. “You’re new to Seattle, right?”
Raising an inquisitive brow, I turn to face her too. “I am. Other than the Destroyers, how could you tell?”
She runs a manicured hand through her hair, her smile growing wider. “Because you have the same look on your face when I came to this city—overwhelmed. It’s fine though; people are kind of friendly when you get used to it.”
She throws her bag over her shoulder and makes for the door, stopping just before she gets there. She walks a couple of paces back to me, holding out her hand. I take her soft palm in mine.
“Felicity. Nice to meet you …”
“Mia.”
“Pretty name. Well, Mia, when you head up to the bar—there’s one in the private area—just mention that the drinks are on Felicity Morgan.” She squeezes my hand. “And happy birthday to your friend.”
I’m pretty sure my eyes are bugging out of my head as I finally place her face, although she clearly doesn’t recognize me. I saw her in the café that time in Whistler. “Call me crazy, but are you Jon Morgan’s wife?”
She throws her head back and laughs sweetly before focusing her green eyes back on me. “I am. You really are a hockey fan if you know who I am. I try my best to keep my face out of the spotlight as much as possible.”
I’m a hockey fan, but I also have a good memory.
I nod as our hands break apart. I want to tell her I know the feeling of wanting to stay anonymous all too well.
“Well, thank you, Felicity.” I point at my hair. “For the tie and the drinks.”
I’d usually never accept anything from a stranger, but there’s a strong part of me that doesn’t want to reject her kindness.
Felicity walks back over to the door and pulls it open, casting an appreciative gaze down my outfit. “Nice skirt and boots.”
“That was the longest pee in history,” Tara drawls as I walk back into the main bar area.
“Sorry. Got to talking.”
“To who?”
“Oh, no one in particular.”
I could tell her Jon Morgan’s wife, but I decide not to. Felicity clearly values her privacy, and I’m not about to send Tara on a hunt for famous hockey players. As harmless as she is, I can see it ending with her trying to take sneaky photos for social media.
We begin walking toward the private area at the back of the bar. It’s cordoned off with red rope and several security guards.
Tara quickly gives Leo’s and our names, and the guard nods and unclips the rope so we can walk through.
“I feel like royalty!” she says, taking my hand in hers.
“Underage royalty,” I mumble under my breath.
She brings her pointer finger to her mouth. “Shh! You’ll blow our cover and my expensive fake ID!”
I roll my eyes for the hundredth time tonight as we turn a corner, and that’s when it hits me—Tara’s back against my chest, to be specific.
“Oh. My. God!” she squeals.
Thankfully, her shriek doesn’t garner too much attention over the music, and I look around to see what she’s so giddy over.
“Over there!” she hisses, pointing without shame. “Jessie fucking Callaghan! Oh my God, and Jensen Jones, the goalie.”
My face heats with the fire of a thousand suns right before the panic hits. Sitting around a black leather booth is none other than half of the Scorpions team. Felicity has her back to me as she sits next to her husband, one of the most famous names in the NHL.
But it’s Jessie that I can’t stop staring at. He hasn’t seen me as he sits there, smiling and laughing with his teammates. His white dress shirt is rolled up to the elbows with a couple of buttons undone at the top. His disheveled blond hair hangs over his forehead, but doesn’t cover his piercing blue eyes. The scruff on his strong jawline is short and definitely tidier than when I previously saw him.
His appearance makes me happy. Like, today, he’s doing okay.
To look at, he’s delicious. But to see him smiling tonight is everything and more. I just hope it’s genuine. Although I want to speak to him since the last time I did was a couple of texts about pancakes, there’s a part of me that hopes to stay anonymous. It’s not like I can join him. It’s not like we can sit across the table and share a conversation.
It’s not like we can ever admit we know each other. Not if I want my dad to stay out of jail.
“Over here!” a voice shouts from across the room.
Leo waves his hands in the air, attempting to attract our attention.
Tara grabs my hand and pulls me in the direction of our table. “Girl, I need to find an excuse to talk to Jessie!”
“Just leave it, Tara. They’re having a night to themselves. They don’t want to be bothered,” I reply.
We dump ourselves down into the booth, and I cast my eyes to the right side. They’re around thirty feet away from us, but Jessie’s back isn’t to me, and if he looked up and to his left, I’m almost certain I’d be one of the first people he saw. But his attention remains focused on his friends as he takes a sip of beer and sets his glass back down on the table.
“Right, so happy birthday and all, babe. But, please, tell me you guys have noticed who is behind me.” Sitting opposite me, Tara inconspicuously tips her head over her left shoulder, gesturing toward Jessie’s table.
“Leo won’t shut up about it.” Hugh chuckles, taking a sip of his beer.
“I say we tell them it’s my birthday and try and get autographs and pictures.”
I quirk a brow at the three of them. “You guys seriously have zero chill. Just let them be. This is a regular hangout for them, probably because they don’t get bothered by the public.”
“And how would you know it’s a regular spot for them?” Tara returns a raised brow.
Because Jon Morgan’s wife just told me.
I shrug a shoulder. “Intuition. I’m sure they’ve tested out loads of bars over time.”
Leo edges closer to me as we sit next to each other. It’s subtle, but obvious enough for my cheeks to no doubt flush again. “Can I get you a drink, Mia?”
“I can get them,” I rush out, already starting to slide out of the booth.
“They have servers on staff tonight,” Leo counters.
“It’s fine. I, um … I want to order a cocktail, and call me weird, but I love to watch them make it. All part of the experience.”
Leo chuckles and points to the table number. “Just put it on that, and we’ll split the bill at the end.”
“It’s fine. I got it. Birthday gift,” I reply. “Same again?” I point to Hugh’s half-empty beer and then to Leo’s.
“Yes, please,” they both say in unison.
“I’ll go for a porn star martini, please, babe.” Tara closes the cocktail menu in front of her.
“Okay. Got it.” I say over my shoulder as I head for the bar, all the while keeping my eyes trained on the floor and away from Jessie.