Chapter 12
LAINEY
I’ve never had such bad anxiety, watching a game before. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of Jensen all night. It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and his injury to overtake him.
I’m rooting for the Nighthawks—after all, that’s my team now—but I’m still cheering for my brother every chance that I get. He’s such a great hockey player, both in spirit and in skill.
But I can’t acknowledge his abilities without thinking of Jensen. They became the great players they are because of one another and the countless times they spent practicing together, growing up.
Sometimes, I miss the ice, the competitiveness of the game. I loved playing it in middle school and the start of high school, but I knew it wasn’t for me.
That doesn’t stop me from being an avid pro women’s hockey supporter though. Speaking of which, I should get tickets for an upcoming game. Maybe Morgan would be interested in going with me.
The Nighthawks are winning three to one, and there’s four minutes left in the game. The only way we’re losing this is if we really mess it up.
But luckily, the guys manage to hold it together for the remaining minutes and seal the win for the books, meaning that our friend group outing of three is probably going to be a lot rowdier since Luca and Jensen decided that we’re going to The Penalty Box after the game regardless of the outcome.
Before I head to the bar though, I want to stop at home, change, and grab my Taser that I can’t have in the arena.
My heart is in my throat as I step out of the taxi and walk toward the front door of the bar, the air freezing cold as it cuts through the thin material of my top, a cute long-sleeved wrap shirt that ties in the back. Being cold is what I get for not wearing a jacket like an idiot.
The front door opens, and a few guys stumble out, causing every hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. My foot slams to a stop not a few feet away from them, and I suck in a sharp breath.
It’s fine. They’re not going to hurt me. They’re just leaving.
I slip my hand in my purse just in case, wrapping it around the mini Taser.
Just walk away, boys.
They don’t even look my way as they turn toward the parking lot, singing and swaying their way to a vehicle that they hopefully won’t be driving.
My curiosity gets the better of me, and I watch them, waiting to see where they go. Thankfully, one of them pulls away from the group and hails a cab, and a moment later, they are falling into it.
Exhaling the air that was choking me, I take a slow and steady deep breath.
“I’m okay,” I whisper to myself before turning back to the bar and strolling to the door, forcing myself to pull it open and walk inside even though my body is telling me to turn around and go home.
Every nerve in me is standing on end as I step through the threshold and scan the room, already feeling too overwhelmed to function. The place is packed, deafeningly loud, and …
This was a bad idea.
“Lainey!” Luca’s voice somehow cuts through the noise.
Following the sound, I find him waving aggressively from behind a section roped off and guarded by security. Fancy.
I start weaving through the bodies toward the private area that is occupied with a herd of the Nighthawks players and their partners, along with some seemingly nervous and random girls who are definitely hoping to become one.
As I break through the crowd, my blood runs cold, and my cheeks heat up in anger at the vision that fills my sight.
There’s a girl sitting right next to Jensen, pressed up against his side, and for some ungodly reason, it makes me want to rip my skin off … or maybe hers—I can’t tell.
Her tits are practically falling out of her shirt as she looks up at him like he hung the moon, her lips moving nonstop as he listens like he might actually care.
The problem is that I actually care, which shouldn’t be happening at all because I’m in a goddamn relationship.
Jensen must feel my stare because he turns his head, and his eyes flick up and lock on to mine, a smirk tipping up his lips. He squints his eyes, taunting me, teasing me.
I might be unreasonably jealous or maybe just territorial—after all, he’s still one of my oldest friends, and I care about him at the lowest level—but one thing’s for sure: he’ll never know how hot my blood is boiling right now.
“There you are!” Luca sings as the security guy lets me through. Luca grabs my shoulders and pulls me into him, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “I missed you.”
The backs of my eyes start burning, but I blink it away as fast as I can. Sometimes, you don’t realize how deprived of touch you truly are until someone gives you a hug like this, like they’re a shield to the world around you.
That’s what my brother has always been for me, my protector, and for the first time tonight, I’m really glad I came out.
Luca pulls away, leaving one arm around my shoulders as he spins next to me and guides me forward. “Be nice, okay? I know you hate him right now, but he promised to play nice, so I need you to be nice too.”
I audibly groan and actively avoid Jensen’s gaze that’s still tracking me from the table Luca is dragging me toward. “Fine.”
For one night, I can try to behave … unless he pushes it too much. Then I make no promises.
“Thank you!” Luca sings.
“Hey, Lainey!” a girl’s voice, one that I recognize, calls out to me from her chair.
I glance over to find Morgan smiling up at me, Cam’s arm wrapped around her waist. I bring Luca to a halt.
“Oh my gosh! I didn’t know you were coming!”
“Hi!” God, seeing a familiar face that isn’t pumped full of testosterone is refreshing. “Yeah, I told my brother I would.”
Luca waves and smiles.
“Grab a drink with me later?” Morgan asks, and of course, I agree, nodding as Luca starts dragging me away.
“Yes, please! We’ll catch up!” I shout back to her.
She nods and smiles before turning her attention back to her table.
Luca drops his arm and plops down across the table in his seat, leaving me to sit next to Jensen and the wannabe blonde WAG at his side since the other two chairs are occupied by heaping piles of coats.
Do they really expect me to behave under these conditions? Absurd.
Forcefully keeping my gaze on Luca, I ignore the humans beside me, pretending they don’t even exist.
Apparently, Jensen doesn’t like that idea.
“Hey, Lain.” A wave of alcohol hits my nose as he leans toward me, invading my space. “You look nice.”
“I know,” I bite back, side-eyeing him.
His gaze is locked on my chest, which is far more exposed in this top than the typical scrubs I like to wear to work.
“Good,” he says smoothly. “As you should.”
“What can I get you to drink?” A bartender saves me from continuing the conversation.
“Just water for me, thanks,” I order, debating if a thousand shots might be better to help me relax.
Clearly, I’m already on edge from the encounter outside the bar. I shouldn’t drink; that’s only going to make this all worse—that’s what Cole has always said, and I don’t think he’s wrong. Even so, I’m not ready to commit to anything, so I stick to my water.
Luca chuckles. “Lainey, the fuck?” He turns to the worker. “Three shots of Patrón, please.”
“Three?” the blonde next to Jensen protests, jutting out her bottom lip. “There’s four of us.”
“Then you three can enjoy them,” I chime in, feeling that chip on my shoulder sharper than before. Sometimes, it’s exhausting, always being on defense, but I don’t know any other way anymore.
“No,” Luca corrects me. “They are for the three best friends in the entire world, and I’m sorry, but that doesn’t include you.”
Apparently, Luca is just as fed up with the puck-bunny energy coming from her as I am.
“Fine,” she snaps, standing up from her seat. “I’ll go get my own then.”
“And I’m going to take a piss,” Luca announces, following her out of the bustling section.
The air thickens, and Jensen’s gaze strokes the side of my face like a physical touch.
Tearing my phone out of my pocket, whether from guilt for feeling jealousy for Jensen or from needing a distraction, I text Cole, asking him what he’s doing.
Jensen stretches his arm behind my chair, resting his other on the table as he leans forward, his face only a few inches from mine.
His warm breath caresses my cheek as he asks, “Who’re you texting?”
I huff. “My amaaaazing boyfriend.”
He sneers. “Oh, are you going to tell him how you were just jealous, all because of me?”
My head snaps his way, and I suck in a sharp breath, suddenly realizing how close we really are. My eyes fall to his lips of their own accord, but I quickly snap them back up to his intense gaze.
“I was not.”
He runs his tongue across his upper teeth before biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes dropping slowly to mine. “You sure about that?”
It takes more willpower than I’d like to admit to force my gaze toward my phone. I read Cole’s message.
Cole: I just checked your location. Are you really at a bar right now, Lainey?
I don’t know where the hell he’s getting the attitude from, but I certainly know where he can shove it. I answer him back immediately as his next few messages come.
Yeah. Is that a problem?
Cole: Who are you with?
Cole: New city, new you, huh?
My brother. He’s in town.
Cole: You’re at a bar with your brother? You really expect me to believe that?
What the actual hell is happening? Where is the accusatory tone coming from? I know how Cole communicates in messages and I can tell he’s being snippy.
I’ve never given him a chance or reason to doubt me. I’ve been nothing but loyal and dedicated to him every single day of our relationship.
Yeah, I do because it’s the truth. Why are you being such a dick right now?
Anxiety begins to eat me alive after I hit Send.
I’ve never called him out like that before, and honestly, I regret it immediately because I don’t want him to be mad. I hate fighting, and I hate confrontation, especially with him.