Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
I wasn’t typically a nervous person.
I was usually confident and sure when it came to my academics and my job.
Socially, I was maybe a little awkward, but the only times I could recall being truly, gut-wrenchingly nervous both involved Foster.
And tonight was one of them.
When Foster walked into The Old Pine, I swore every head in the building turned his way.
He wasn’t alone. Liam and Drew flanked him on either side with Gordy trailing behind them, looking less than thrilled to be there.
They all seemed to command attention without even trying.
Foster wore dark jeans and a sapphire blue button-up that made his blue eyes pop even from across the bar.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his muscular forearms, and those now-familiar butterflies took off in my stomach at the sight.
“Holy crap. Talk about fucking eye candy,” Sam whispered beside me. “Is there some kind of rule that you have to be hot to play hockey? Because damn, those boys are fine.”
I couldn’t disagree with that assessment, but I only had eyes for Foster. When his gaze swept the room and landed on me, his face broke into a smile that made my stomach flip.
“Act cool,” I muttered to myself.
“What?” Sam asked.
“Nothing.”
Foster and his friends made their way over to our table, and I tried to look casual, like my heart wasn’t threatening to beat out of my chest.
“Hey,” Foster said, his eyes roaming over me appreciatively. “You look amazing.”
I smoothed my hand over the deep purple fabric of my top and tried to remember how to breathe. The V-neck wasn’t even that low, but under Foster’s gaze, it felt borderline scandalous.
“Thanks,” I managed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “You too.”
Drew slid into the large U-shaped corner booth beside Sam. “Hey, Abby. Foster hasn’t shut up about you all day.”
Foster shot him a death glare. “Dude.”
“What? It’s true.” Drew turned to me with a grin. “It was all ‘Abby this’ and ‘Abby that.’”
My eyes widened, and I glanced at Foster, who looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
“Ignore him,” Foster said, sliding in next to me. “He was dropped on his head as a child. Multiple times.”
“It’s true,” Liam added, squeezing in beside Drew. “I was there for at least three of those times. But it’s also true that our captain here is a smitten kitten.”
“You’re both assholes,” Foster muttered, but there was no heat behind it.
Gordy, who seemed to be the quietest of the group, took the remaining seat beside Liam. “I apologize in advance for anything these three might say or do tonight,” he said to me with a small smile.
I laughed, feeling some of my tension ease. “Noted.”
Sam, ever the social butterfly, kept the conversation flowing.
She asked the guys about their hockey season, which led to animated stories about their games and practices.
Drew and Liam were natural storytellers, acting out plays and mimicking their coach’s expressions.
Even Gordy joined in, his quiet demeanor giving way to dry humor that had me laughing more than once.
Throughout it all, I was hyperaware of Foster beside me. Our arms would occasionally brush, or our knees would touch under the table, and each time it happened, my heart would skip a beat. It reminded me of the times during tutoring when he’d moved closer to me.
It had wreaked havoc on my emotions then just like it did now.
And as the night stretched on, I just wanted to be alone with him—to have the talk I knew we needed to have so we could clear the air and move forward.
Hopefully together if I wasn’t too late.
“So, Abby,” Drew said, pulling me from my thoughts, “are you going to grace us with a song tonight? It is karaoke night, after all.”
I shook my head quickly. “Oh, no. I’m just here to watch. I don’t sing.”
“Everyone sings,” Liam argued. “Some just better than others.”
“Trust me, you don’t want to hear me sing,” I insisted. “I’m tone-deaf. Like, clinically.”
“I’ll go up if Sam goes with me,” Drew offered, turning to my roommate with a charming smile.
Sam, never one to back down from a challenge, grinned. “You’re on. But I get to pick the song.”
“Deal,” Drew said, extending his hand for her to shake.
As they debated song choices, Foster leaned in close to me, his breath warm against my ear.
“For what it’s worth, I bet you’d be great up there.”
I turned my head slightly to look at him, suddenly aware of how close our faces were. “Trust me, I wouldn’t be. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
He smiled, and my eyes dropped to his lips for just a moment before I caught myself and looked away. From the corner of my eye, I saw his smile widen, and I knew he’d caught me looking.
Sam and Drew eventually decided on “Unholy” by Sam Smith and Kim Petras and put their names in with the emcee.
When their turn came, they took to the small stage with surprising confidence.
Sam had a great voice, and Drew wasn’t half bad either.
The crowd went wild when he rolled his hips while he pulled his shirt off, showing off his abs.
Gordy shook his head. “He will use literally any excuse to take his clothes off.”
“They’re good together,” I remarked to Foster as we watched.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I haven’t seen Drew have this much fun in a while.”
When they finished their performance to enthusiastic applause, they returned to our table, flushed and laughing.
“Your turn, Foster,” Drew said, clapping him on the back.
“Not a chance,” Foster replied, shaking his head. “I’ve heard dying cats that sound better than me.”
“Aw, come on,” Liam goaded. “Show your girl what you’ve got.”
“What I’ve got is a healthy respect for everyone’s eardrums,” Foster shot back.
Liam raised his hands like he was backing off, but after a few minutes, both he and Drew stood up.
“We’ll be right back,” Drew said, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Where are you going?” Foster asked suspiciously.
“Bathroom,” Liam replied innocently—too innocently.
“Together?” Foster raised an eyebrow.
“What? You’ve never heard of the buddy system?” Drew quipped before they both headed off.
“That can’t be good,” Gordy muttered, watching them go.
“What do you think they’re up to?” I asked Foster.
He sighed. “With those two? Who knows. They could be going to flirt with girls they saw or planning something diabolical.”
I looked over my shoulder. They hadn’t even gone near the bathrooms—they were lingering by the karaoke table, laughing like they’d just pulled off a heist.
When Liam and Drew returned a few minutes later, they were both wearing identical shit-eating grins.
Foster narrowed his eyes at them. “Why do you two look like that?”
“Like what?” Drew asked, the picture of innocence.
“Like you just—”
Before Foster could finish his sentence, the emcee’s voice boomed through the speakers.
“Alright, folks! We’ve got a special request tonight. Can I get Foster Kane up here to sing for us, please?”
Foster’s face went pale, then red. “You didn’t.”
Liam and Drew burst into laughter.
“Oh, we absolutely did,” Liam said, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Come on up, Foster Kane!” the emcee called again. “Don’t be shy! Your friends tell me you’ve got a special song to sing for a special someone.”
All eyes in the bar turned to our table, and I felt my own face heating up as Foster slowly stood, looking like a man headed to his execution.
“I’m going to kill you both,” he muttered to his friends before making his way to the stage.