Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EVERETT
T he girl deserves a damn spanking.
As soon as the thought rises, I tamp it down, ignoring the guilt in my chest. It doesn’t make me like him. I know I’d never hurt her, and thanks to our conversation after the first time I met her dad, I know Raine knows it, too. Even so, it doesn’t erase the similarities between me and Drake. The way we can be controlling. Stubborn. Unwilling to bend.
Could I be like him? Fuck, no. But am I too controlling sometimes? Am I fucked up for wanting to smack Raine’s ass for hanging up on me? Will she think I’m like him if I call her?
I set my phone back in the cupholder and scrub my hand over my face. After Raine hung up on me, I went back inside the reception hall and faked a stomach bug. Shae and the rest of her family bought it with ease. Shae walked me to my car and thanked me for coming. For saving her from a night of asshole comments.
After confirming I’d paid Reeves’ debt for borrowing Shae’s puppy, I gave her a hug in case anyone was watching from the windows, then got the hell out of there.
Anxious, I pick my phone up again and dial Griffin.
“Hello?” he answers.
“You back at the rink yet?” I grunt. The team rode the bus to an away game, but it ended an hour ago, so they should be close.
“The game was good,” he replies. “We won. Thanks for asking.”
“Answer the question,” I bark.
“We’re about to pull in. Why?”
“Have you seen the girls?” I ask. “Heard from them or anything?”
“All right, now you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”
“Finley picked Raine up so they could hang out.”
“So?”
“So, you really think it’s a good idea for Raine to be away from the cabin without protection?”
“You worried about Drake?” he prods.
I’m worried about a lot of things. Like Drake having some magic crystal ball telling him I’m not around tonight and Raine’s free game to fuck with. Like I hurt her feelings by being Shae’s plus-one tonight. Like other guys looking at her when I’m not sure where we stand. Ever since our kiss during game night, things have been…different. And I don’t know if it’s only me or if she’s feeling the same thing. I don’t know if I'm imagining her lingering looks or if they’re real. But I do know the idea of Raine being out of the house without me by her side when I don’t know where we stand leaves me feeling like razor blades are skating across my skin, and I don’t like it.
“Where are they?” Griff prods.
“They didn’t tell me.” I frown, opening the tracking app from when I picked Raine up on the side of the road. My mouth lifts. “They’re at SeaBird.”
“Well. How far are you?”
“Ten minutes,” I answer.
“We’re pulling into the rink right now. I'll meet you there.”
Perfect.
The ten-minute drive feels like twice as long when I finally arrive at SeaBird. It’s crowded, so I drive around back, looking for a spot and Griffin’s car since I have no doubt he let Finley borrow it. Okay, let her borrow it is probably a stretch. My sister has had my best friend wrapped around her finger since they were kids. She probably stole it. Brat .
Pulling into an empty spot, I leave my jacket in the back, too amped up on adrenaline to feel the drop in temperature. There’s a storm coming. I can feel it.
The quiet creak of metal sounds from my left, where I find Griffin and Reeves climbing out of Reeves’ car.
“Mav’s already inside,” Griffin calls. “He’s been keeping an eye on them since they told him they were having a girls' night.”
Sneaky bastard.
Relief swells through me, and I nod. “Glad someone could be here.”
“Yeah, guess there are pros and cons to the guy having a heart transplant and retiring from the team,” Reeves jokes.
With the guys flanking my sides, we nod at the bouncer, then scan the open bar for the girls and, even though I don’t want to admit it, Drake. When I don’t see him, my muscles relax, and I continue searching for my little sister, Lia, Dylan, and Raine .
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Maverick
They’re on the dance floor. Come to the south side. I have a booth where we can watch the girls without them noticing.
I look up from my cell and survey the dance floor. Sure enough, there they are. Dylan. Finley. Ophelia. And Raine. They’re dancing to the song blasting from the speakers. Raine’s shouting the lyrics along with the rest of the girls, each of them belting out the words about a scorned woman or some shit. She looks happy, though. Carefree. The constant divot between her brows is softer than usual, and when she holds her stomach and bends over laughing at whatever Finley said, I can’t help but feel…lighter, maybe. My mouth lifts, and my chest swells. The girl’s fuckin’ beautiful. I’ve always known it, but this? This is something else. I like this side of her. And honestly, I’m almost jealous I’m not the one who made her this way. Who helped her let go and let loose. It would probably help if I talked to her more. If I opened up. If I let her open up.
“Dylan’s wasted,” Reeves notes, but there’s amusement in his voice as he takes a step toward the dance floor. “Come on.”
I lift my arm to stop him. “Wait.”
Hesitating, Reeves looks over his shoulder at me. “What?”
“They don’t know we’re here yet.”
He quirks a brow. “Okay?”
“They wanted a girls’ night,” I remind him. “Let’s give them one. For now.”
“All right,” Griffin agrees. “But I need a drink if I’m gonna survive their shitty singing.” He slaps me on the shoulder, steps around me, and heads for the bar as I fill Reeves in on Maverick’s text. Afterward, he follows me to the booth. Mav’s right. From here, I can still keep the girls in our line of sight without raining on their parade.
A few minutes later, Griffin brings three beers to the table, setting one in front of each of us. They spend the next thirty minutes filling Mav and me in on the game. It kind of sucks. Growing up with him and his brother on the ice, only to have both of them ripped away in different ways. I guess it’s how life is, though. Unpredictable. Unexpected. We’re all just making shit up as we go. If you don’t learn how to pivot, you’re fucked.
When Dylan stumbles a bit on the dance floor a little while later, I glance at Reeves, curious as to what he’s gonna do. The girl’s clumsy when she’s sober. Add some alcohol, and she’s pretty much a walking disaster.
When we were little, we were playing hockey together, and I got pissed, so I hit the puck as hard as I could. It kicked up into the air and knocked Dylan in the head. She crumpled like a piece of paper. I still remember it. Seeing her fall. How the life left her eyes before they rolled back in her head. The beeping machines. The heavy silence in the hospital room.
Fuck, if I close my eyes, I can still see it. Still feel it. The weight of that moment and the way I irrevocably changed a little girl’s life all because I couldn’t control my temper.
For years, I carried the burden. The knowledge she’ll never be the same person. The guilt over the fact it was me who took it from her. Her future. It threatened to swallow me whole until I was convinced Dylan was nothing but a porcelain doll who could break at any second. And if she did, it would only confirm it was all my fault. My problem. My fuck up.
Then Dylan met Reeves. And even though I wanted him to stay as far away from her as possible, convinced he’d only shatter her further, he refused to play by my rules, giving me two middle fingers as he pursued my little sister’s best friend without a single apology for overstepping his bounds.
But here’s the strange part. The part I still don’t fully understand. As I watch Dylan teeter on the dance floor like an uncoordinated giraffe, the urge to catch her is gone. Because it isn’t my job anymore. It’s Reeves’. My eyes fall to the brunette bombshell beside her. Red lips. Smokey eyes. Long-sleeved crop top falling off one shoulder, giving me a glimpse of her creamy skin and low-slung jeans. The girl’s nothing short of perfect.
And apparently, I’m not the only one who notices.
Like a swarm, guys start approaching, but none of them have a chance to get close because Finley bites their heads off and drags her friends to a different spot on the dance floor. Griffin chuckles as he watches her go head-to-head with a particularly massive dude I’ve never seen until now. When he reaches for Finley’s hips, Griffin is on his feet, and so am I. The guys join us as we stride toward them, our drinks forgotten.
Once we’re within earshot, Reeves calls, “Hey, Pickles.”
If Dylan’s surprised to see her boyfriend here, she doesn’t show it. With a smile, she returns, “Hey, Ollie. Perfect timing.” Dylan turns to the guys bugging them. “Have you met my boyfriend, Ollie?”
“Nah, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure yet,” Reeves states casually as he moves in even closer.
“Lucky man,” one of the strangers offers to Reeves while perusing the rest of the girls as if he can have his pick.
When his gaze lands on Ophelia, Mav steps around Reeves, and Lia darts toward him like a bunny on crack, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him. “You’ve been here the whole time, haven’t you?”
“Looks like I’ve been caught red-handed,” he confirms.
“I knew it was your bike in the parking lot! ”
Mav chuckles dryly. “You really thought I’d let you come here without me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
She kisses him again as the stranger turns back to Raine. “Now, where were we?”
“You were just leaving,” she reminds him sweetly.
“You sure?” he challenges.
Her eyes lock with mine over her shoulder. “Pretty positive, actually. Right, babe ?”
I step closer, hook my fingers through the belt loop on her pants, and tug her into me, bringing her back to my chest. “I think it’s exactly what he was doing.”
His eyes drift over me as if he’s sizing me up. Lifting his hands in surrender, he steps back.
“Another one bites the dust,” the last dumbass taunts. He’s a behemoth but doesn’t give Finley an inch. “And then there was one.”
“Wrong again, buddy,” Griffin says. “This one’s taken, too.”
Finley stares at Griff, but instead of playing into it like I expect, she shifts back a few inches, leaving space between both the stranger and Griffin. “Griffin’s right. My boyfriend might not be at LAU, but he would care if he knew anyone here was trying to dance with me.”
“It’s only a dance,” the stranger argues.
“Then I’m sure you can find a different partner.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Her footsteps are quick as she rushes off toward what I assume is her table. Griffin frowns but follows her, leaving the stunned stranger in silence.
Raine twists in my arms and faces me. “Is this a habit of yours, babe ?”
“What?”
“Saving the day, even when I don’t ask for it? ”
“Depends. Are you pissed I used your location to track you down?”
Her forest-green eyes flash with understanding. “Ah, so that’s how you did it.”
“ Babe ,” I finish for her, mimicking her syrupy sweet tone.
Her lips purse, but she stays quiet. I guide her hands around my neck, then hold her hips and sway us to the music. “I’m sorry.”
She pulls back, her brows bunching, but she forces her tense body to soften as she peeks up at me. “For what?”
“For helping Reeves out tonight,” I admit. “And for using your location to track you down.”
“I’m not mad about it.”
“Which one?” I ask. “The first or second apology?”
“Does it matter?”
“To me, it does.” I bring her a little closer. “I’m also sorry I called her babe, and you had to hear it.”
She drops her chin lower, choosing to stare at the top button of my dress shirt instead of my eyes. “It’s not a big deal, but…you’ve never called me babe , and we’ve been fake dating longer,” she admits dryly. “I guess it took me by surprise. How easily you fell into the role with her.”
“Stormie.” I bend closer and brush my lips against the sensitive patch of skin beneath her ear, causing her breath to hitch. But she doesn’t push me away. Doesn’t let me go. “You deserve more than a generic nickname. You’re more than babe . You’re Stormie. A pain in my ass, but the good kind.”
“There’s a good kind of pain in the ass?” she challenges.
I tug her even closer, keeping us pressed together as I run my lips against her skin for one more taste when her cool breath hits the side of my face.
She turns toward me, lining our lips up, though I doubt she realizes it. “What are you?—”
“I’m your boyfriend, remember? Gotta play the part. ”
“Is that what you’re doing?” Her tongue darts out between her lips. “Playing a part?”
My brows dip as my attention bounces from one forest iris to the next, though I have no fucking clue what I’m searching for. “You tell me.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” she admits, though the words are so hushed, I don’t know if they're for her or for me.
“Let’s say we’re both still playing the part,” I offer. “What happens next?”
“If I was playing a part, I’d tell you to kiss me.”
“Oh?”
“Mm-hmm.” She tugs me closer, making me bend until her lips brush the shell of my ear. “I’m not the only one who can see them watching.”
Them. The guys who bothered her a few minutes ago. Fuck, I almost forgot they were even here. I glance to my left, finding them hanging out at the bar. They aren’t even looking this way, too caught up in flirting with the bartender, though I’m not sure it even matters.
Bringing my attention back to the girl in my arms, I push, “And what if you weren’t playing a part?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On you.” She leans back, putting more space between us as we continue dancing. “I’m glad the date went well, at least.”
“It wasn’t a date.”
“And this isn’t real, right?” she counters, lowering her hands from around my neck. “You looked nice tonight. I didn’t tell you that when you left.”
“Thanks,” I rasp. “You look nice tonight, too.”
She laughs quietly and looks down at her outfit. “Thanks.” Peeking up at me again, she adds, “I, uh, I think we should call it a night, don't you? ”
“Depends,” I reply. “Why?”
“Maybe we could both use a breather.” She reaches for my fingers and tangles them with hers. “For the crowd. Come on.”
We say our goodbyes and head outside. It’s snowing now. The flakes float down from the dark sky in small flurries, and Raine folds her arms. When we reach the car, I open the door, help her inside, and grab my tux jacket from the back seat, offering it to her.
Her brows dip, but she takes it and slides her arms through the holes, letting the back of my jacket cover her front.
“Seat belt,” I remind her.
“Oh.” She reaches for the strap, but I beat her to it, sliding it across her chest and leaning closer as I buckle it in place. When I realize I’m leaning over her, my body freezes, and my eyes fall to her lips.
“They could still be watching,” she whispers.
My mouth lifts. “You think?”
“Mm-hmm.” A puff of misty air leaves her lips and swirls between us. “You should kiss me. Just in case.”
“You still worried about keeping up appearances?”
“I mean, we wouldn’t want anyone to catch us in a lie, right?” she argues.
I lift her chin, moving in slowly until I press my lips to hers. The kiss is soft and unhurried. If I don’t overthink it, I can say it’s because I had half a beer when we both know it has nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the tension that’s been building around us for too long with nowhere to go.
But now I’ve tasted her without people watching. Without an act or a reason to perform for anyone but us. I’m afraid I won’t be able to pull away, won’t be able to stop this. Her tongue dips into my mouth, and she tilts her head more, letting me in in more ways than one until my head spins.
Forcing myself to end the kiss, I shove my hair away from my face. “We should get going. This’ll be a blizzard by the time we reach the mountains.”
With a slow nod, she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. “Sure thing.”