Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
TYLER
“Gang’s all here!” Oliver says with a grin, dropping down into the seat across from me and grabbing a beer. “Won in overtime, no thanks to you assholes.”
“What did we do?” I ask, draining my beer and grabbing a second one from the silver bucket of ice on the floor.
We’re sitting at a table along the back wall of Fireside, the South Side bar started by Jack’s dad, Ben, and Oliver’s dad, Jeremy, decades ago.
Jack’s run it for the past few years, and we’re all here tonight celebrating Caitlin and Jack’s birthday.
“You weren’t there. I missed my cheering section. You could have at least sent Ethan,” he says to Cam. “I mean, we were playing Philadelphia, for fuck’s sake, and not one single member of my family bothered to show up.” His eyes are narrowed, but the amusement behind them gives him away.
Cam levels Oliver with a look. “You’re suggesting I should have sent my ten-year-old son to your NHL game alone because you didn’t want to play without your own personal cheering section?”
“I would have made sure someone watched him,” Oliver says, perilously close to a pout. “Or you could have come with him and then come here with me. I’m not that late.”
Cam laughs, propping his elbows on the table. “And face the girls’ wrath for being even a little bit late? No, thank you. They’re scary when all six of them pin you with that look that says they’re disappointed in your life choices.”
“Smart,” I say, kicking back in my chair and stretching my legs out. “I’ve known them my entire life. Those six women could run the damn world, and they can definitely handle any man who wronged them and then six more before breakfast. They’re badass, dude.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Cam says with a smile and a little bit of awe in his voice, and when he glances over my shoulder, I know he’s looking at Maddy.
I sneak my own quick glance over at the bar where Sophie is standing with the girls, and I can’t help my grin when I see her smile, the way she gestures with her hands as she says something to Maya.
I can almost hear the cheerful clink of her bracelets from here, and my arms practically itch to get around her.
Ever since the night of the Broadway rave ten days ago, it’s like my body isn’t satisfied unless Sophie is within touching distance.
And I’ve been touching her. A lot. My grin spreads when I think about the confusion on her face every time I wrap an arm around her.
Sit a little closer than is strictly necessary.
Whisper into her ear when talking at regular volume would do just fine.
The way she practically jumped out of her skin the other day when I pressed a kiss to the soft skin behind her ear.
The tension in the house has been next level, and I think it’s getting to her.
It’s definitely getting to me.
I’m dying to make my move. To grab her and kiss her the way I want to. The way I think she wants me to. But this is too important to do on a whim. I need a plan.
“The party is here!”
Drew’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I turn to watch him amble over to our table and drop into the seat next to me. “What’s the gossip, ladies?”
Cam grabs a beer out of the ice bucket and slides it over. “Nothing yet. Oliver just got here. Apparently, he wants cookies and congratulatory head rubs for winning his game tonight.”
“No, I don’t,” he grumbles. “It just would have been nice to have some family in the stands. I scored two damn goals. Where’s the love, you guys?”
“I love you, man,” Drew says with a wide smile. “And I totally would have come to your game, but the city council meeting ran long.”
“What were you doing there again?” Jack asks, dropping into the last empty seat at the table, apparently relieved of his bartending duties.
When I glance back over there, I see Ben, Jeremy, Gabe, and my dad holding court behind the bar, but I barely focus on them before my gaze finds Sophie again as she tosses her dark curls behind her shoulders and pushes up the sleeves of her purple sweater.
As if she feels me looking at her, she turns to me, our eyes meeting across the room.
When I toss her a grin and a wink, reaching up to run my hand through my hair in a way I realized the other day drives her a little crazy, her face flushes pink and her eyes flash, and everything inside me lights right up.
Fuck, she’s so pretty.
I blow her a kiss, and when her flush deepens, I can’t help but laugh as I turn my attention back to my friends. I love this night.
“Happy fucking birthday, man. My construction company is bidding on the renovation for some of the city playgrounds in Squirrel Hill for this spring,” Drew is in the middle of saying.
“We had to present our designs to the zoning board.” Drew is kind of an enigma.
On the outside, he seems like this cheerful, carefree, wildly talented athlete who plays hard and fucks around and doesn’t take anything too seriously and buys weird shit like drive-in movie theaters and construction companies because he can.
But I’m positive there’s a deeper layer to him he never shows anyone—even Cam, who he’s closest to. I’ve just never been able to prove it.
“It’s cool you’re doing that,” I say, hoping maybe he’ll tell me more.
Drew just shrugs. “It’s new. I…”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Caitlin’s scary voice interrupts Drew mid-sentence.
The voice that’s low and fierce and gives You will tell me what I want to know or you will find yourself on the wrong side of a very, very deep grave.
Her hands are on her hips, light brown ponytail hanging over one shoulder, and she’s glaring at Drew.
“Dude, what the hell did you do to her?” Jack mutters to Drew. “That’s Caitlin’s you fucked up face.”
Drew doesn’t answer me. Instead, he smiles casually, but there’s something behind his smile I’ve never seen before. It looks almost like longing, but when he speaks, his voice is light and filled with ease. “Hey, Princess.”
She narrows her eyes at him as her brow pinches together.
“Don’t call me that. Who invited you?” The words are barely out of her mouth when, for a split second, Caitlin breaks character, sucking in a sharp breath, her face twisting in a wince like she’s in pain.
One hand flies to her abdomen, pressing hard enough that her knuckles turn white, and it looks like every muscle in her body is coiled tight.
Drew curses under his breath and starts to stand, then seems to think better of it when Caitlin practically shoots laser beams with her eyes, her body uncoiling and her hand dropping to her side like that little interlude never happened.
He sits back down and takes another sip of his beer, gesturing to Jack.
“Your brother. He said if I wasn’t doing anything tonight, I should stop by.
I wasn’t, so here I am. Happy birthday, by the way. ”
She shoots her twin brother a menacing glare. “Whatever. Play with your friends, but stay the hell away from me.”
She spins away and stomps back towards the bathroom, and I watch as Drew’s eyes follow her until she disappears down the hall.
“Uh, what the fuck, Drew?” Jack asks. “Caitlin’s prickly, but she’s rarely downright hostile. What did you do to her?”
Drew shakes his head with a sigh before draining his beer. “It doesn’t matter. I fucked up. End of story.”
“Uh, no. Not end of story.” I lean forward and fold my arms over the table. “I didn’t even know you really knew Caitlin. How could you have fucked up badly enough to earn her I will end you voice?”
“We met the night of the Super Bowl,” he says, a hint of resignation in his tone. “It doesn’t matter. It’s nothing.”
I’m about to protest that it’s not nothing. That whatever this is sounds like the opposite of nothing. But my thoughts are interrupted by a very familiar laugh ringing out across the bar. My favorite laugh.
My attention is immediately pulled back to Sophie, smile tugging up my lips. But the second I lay eyes on her, my smile freezes, and I suddenly feel like there’s hot lava rushing through my veins. “What is happening right now?” I mutter.
“Everything okay?” Oliver asks.
“Who’s that guy?” I ask, my eyes still on Sophie, who is currently leaning back against the bar, elbows propped up behind her, as some blond douche-bro in a suit that looks like it cost more than my car crowds her space.
“What guy?” Jack peers around me, trying to see whatever I see.
“The jackass with the four-hundred-dollar haircut pinning Sophie to the bar,” I grumble, not taking my eyes off her. “Does she know him? She doesn’t, right? I know everyone she knows, and I’ve never seen that asshole before.”
My mind goes immediately to the dating app, and my brain positively melts down because why hasn’t it ever occurred to me that Sophie might be dating?
Like, actually dating someone she met on the app instead of just talking the way she’s been talking to me.
Well, alter-ego me, but me nonetheless. I mean, I got on VibeCheck to try and find my forever person.
It stands to reason she got on the app to do the same.
I frantically tear through my memory banks for the last few weeks, trying to remember if there were nights she didn’t come home right after work.
Thinking of every time she laughed at her phone and I assumed she was texting her family or one of the girls.
Fuck, was she texting a guy? That guy? Other guys?
I mean, ChaosQueen totally blew off the test balloon question RenegadeRush sent last week asking if she wanted to meet, and our messages have been light and kind of surface level since then.
Is it possible she doesn’t want to meet me because she’s already met someone else?
A displeased rumble escapes my chest before I can stop it.
“Did you just…growl?” Cam asks.