Chapter 23
twenty-three
. . .
Rafe
I noticed Beckett tracking her the moment we walked through the door. His eyes found mine quickly, and I didn’t look away. Lulu and I made our way to the back table where Easton, Henley, Bridger, and Clark were sitting. There were a few women hanging on my two single brothers, per usual, but they were all watching me.
They knew that a situation was about to go down, and there was no doubt they’d have my back.
But I wasn’t worried at all.
I wasn’t intimidated by some Hollywood pop star, nor did I give a shit if he wasn’t happy.
I cared about Lulu.
It was that simple.
Jazzy walked over and handed me a beer and Lulu a glass of chardonnay, as Easton and Henley had clearly ordered for us, knowing we’d need a drink when we arrived.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this guy.” Jazzy leaned down when she set my drink down. “I’m pretty good at reading people, and he seems to be itching for a fight.”
“I think you’re probably right. If he starts anything, I promise you, I’ll take him outside.”
“Thanks, Rafe. Ben’s got a few officers outside on standby. We’re sending out some burgers to keep them happy for now,” she chuckled.
I nodded, my gaze tracking Beckett and his entourage as he moved in our direction.
“Long time no see, Lulu,” the asshole said as he approached our table. “Can we talk for a minute?”
“It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m here with my boyfriend, so I don’t want any drama. If you want to talk, he comes with me. If you start anything, we’re walking out the door,” she said.
My girl didn’t show any trace of concern, and I was impressed.
“You’re going to have some random fucking dude sit in and listen to our conversation?” he said as he gripped the edge of the table as if he were about to flip it. Three large men stood behind him, and if I were reading them correctly, they appeared uncomfortable that their job was to protect some asshole who liked to pick fights with people he didn’t stand a chance against.
My chair slid back against the wood floor, making a loud screeching sound, and I stood. My hand found Lulu’s shoulder as she remained in her chair. “Don’t fucking speak to her that way again. If you want to have a conversation, let’s step to the back of the room and have a private conversation. If you raise your voice or flip this fucking table, the conversation ends, and you will be escorted out of here.”
“You’re going to escort me out of here,” he said, a cocky smirk on his face.
I leaned forward, my face just inches from his. “You’re in my town, Beckett. You’ve got your three guys, but I’ve got three brothers ready to jump in and a bar full of locals who I grew up with, along with several police officers outside, just waiting to kick your ass out of here. So stop acting like a child, say what you need to say, and then move the fuck along. There’s no issue here if you don’t make one.”
He glanced around, thinking it over. He was smaller than I expected. Somewhat sickly looking, if I was being honest.
“Fine. Let’s go sit in the back and have a fucking conversation,” he hissed before turning to Lulu. “It’s the least you owe me.”
“I owe you nothing,” Lulu’s voice was hard. “You have made my life a fucking nightmare just to keep your name in the press when you aren’t touring. It’s pathetic. But sure, let’s go have yet another conversation.”
I glanced at my brothers as I reached for Lulu’s hand. I knew they’d be watching. I guided her toward the back corner, away from the dance floor and the watching crowd. He wasn’t being followed in here like he was probably used to because the people here had grown fond of Lulu, and his music sure as hell wasn’t the kind of music that played in this bar.
We sat down at a table, Lulu sitting close beside me and Beckett across from us.
“Do you think I should have to hear about your relationship with this fucking guy in the media?” His hands were fisted on the table, and he was seething. I glanced behind him and noticed the security guy closest to him looked irritated as hell, and I got the feeling that he’d watched this guy have a meltdown one too many times.
“We broke up over a year ago. I’ve dated plenty. I don’t owe you an explanation every time I meet someone. And let’s just be honest, for once in your life—” She let out a breath. “You like my name. You like the attention it gets you when you drag me into your mess. My family puts out a statement, and everyone is invested. Yet there is no you and me. There hasn’t been in a very long time. We don’t even speak. I’ve blocked your number. Why would I possibly reach out to let you know I’m dating someone?”
“It’s a respect thing,” he said, like the entitled prick that he was.
“A respect thing?” She barked out a laugh. “You cheated on me multiple times during the last year of our relationship. And I don’t even care because we weren’t even really together. I hardly saw you, and I wanted out of this. It’s toxic and miserable, and you are the one who turned this into a living nightmare.”
“Because I still love you.” He shrugged, and for one split second, I felt bad for the bastard. Because having a girl like Lulu Sonnet was like catching the sun—and losing her, I knew it must suck for him. But it was by design. It was his doing. He had her, and he treated her like shit, so she walked away.
Shit happens, asshole.
“You don’t even know what love is. You just want what you can’t have because you’re an entitled narcissist, and you can’t handle that I don’t care about your fame or your money. You can’t bully me into talking to you, Beckett. It’s over. It’s been over for a long time, and we both know it. So let’s call this done once and for all, and let’s move on.”
“Do you know how many women I fuck a week?” he said, leaning into the table now, and I placed an arm around Lulu’s shoulders protectively.
Don’t even think about it, asshole.
I wanted to jump in. Tell him to shut his fucking mouth. But she needed to handle this, and I respected that. Unless he crossed the line and forced my hand.
“Probably a lot, and good for you. I want you to be happy. I wish you well. But the truth is, I don’t care. I don’t care who you date or who you fuck or what you do.” She took a sip of her wine, acting completely unfazed.
Lulu Sonnet was a badass in every way. And I was getting a front-row seat.
“Anastasia is pregnant,” he said, and I had no idea who that was.
I glanced at Lulu, wanting to see if there was any sort of reaction to his words. It was what he was hoping for.
“I really hope, for Anastasia’s sake and your child’s sake, that you pull your shit together, Beckett. You have a woman you’ve been sleeping with on and off for a very long time. She’s been on tour with you from the very beginning, and she deserves better. You should be there with your pregnant girlfriend instead of chasing after your ex-girlfriend who wants nothing to do with you.”
“Fuck you. I should lock you in a closet again,” he hissed, and my shoulders stiffened at his words.
What the fuck did he just say?
I was about to push to my feet when Lulu’s hand found mine beneath the table, and she squeezed it.
I’ve got this.
“Let me give you a little advice because we do have a history, and because of that, I’ll give you this.” She set her wine glass down and looked him in the eyes. “That day you’re referencing, that’s the day that I made a conscious decision to cut you off in every possible way. So thank you for that little lesson where I realized there wasn’t even the possibility of a friendship left for us. It’s also the day that I decided to start taking self-defense classes. So I promise you this, if you ever put your hands on me again, you won’t walk away on two feet. I will snap your little fucking neck because you’re a bully and a sad excuse for a man.” And then she looked up, over his shoulder. “And the people that work for you, that allow you to behave like an animal, should be ashamed of themselves for looking the other way. You’re lucky I didn’t go public with what you did, and that wasn’t to protect you. That was to save my family any more embarrassment than you’d already caused.”
My blood was boiling, and I didn’t even know what exactly had happened, but I knew it was bad.
I tugged Lulu closer, and my gaze locked with his. His eyes were bloodshot, pupils dilated, making it clear he was on something. “Did you get your fucking closure? Because this is the last time you bother her. Don’t even look in her direction again. Am I being clear? Get your guys together, and get the fuck out of my town. No one wants you here.”
He glanced around. No one was paying him any attention, aside from my brothers, who were watching us from a few feet away.
“I just wanted you to know that I’m having a child.” He shrugged.
“How about you start focusing on that child? Don’t mention my name in the press. Just move the fuck on, Beckett.”
He ran a hand down his face. “I fucked up, Lu. That’s the truth. I know I’ll never find anyone like you, and I know you’re never coming back.”
“You’re right about that.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against me. “Goodbye, Beckett.”
His gaze moved from me to Lulu, and then he pushed to his feet. “Let’s get the fuck out of this shitty little hell hole.”
He walked away, his security team falling in place, and I followed them all as they made their way out the door, making sure Lulu stayed tucked behind me.
“You all right?”
“I am. Thanks for sitting beside me and keeping things calm.”
“You want to tell me about the closet incident?” I asked, my blood boiling at the thought of him doing something to her.
“Maybe later, okay?” She smiled up at me. “It’s still Valentine’s Day, and it happens to be the best one I’ve ever had, so how about we go back to having some fun?”
“You got it. Let’s go see what everyone is doing,” I said, but I was still on edge about what he’d said to her. What he’d done to her.
We spent the next hour laughing our asses off and putting Beckett Bane in our rearview. There’d been no tables flipped. No photographers. No drama.
Lulu had written the end of their story, and I could tell she felt good about it.
She was sitting on my lap, running her fingers through my hair, as Bridger and Clark asked her questions about Paris.
Easton and Henley had gone home a few minutes ago, and the bar would be closing soon.
“French food gives me the shits,” Bridger grumped.
“French fries do not count as French food,” Lulu said over a fit of laughter.
“Good one, Lu.” Clark held his hand up and high-fived her.
I just watched her. The way she interacted with them. The way she fit so well right here.
In this town.
With my family.
With me.
“It’s all the sauces that get me. I’ve got irritable bowels,” Bridger said.
“You’ve got an irritable personality.” Clark slammed the rest of his beer.
“Don’t you have practice tomorrow?” I asked my brother, as he was in the middle of his season.
“Yeah. So, Lulu, you think you can cover me in pickleball until you leave for Paris? We’ve got a ton of games, and I can’t play at all until the season ends. Henley is supposed to cover me, but Archer hardly makes it anymore.”
She ran her finger over the rim of her wine glass. “Does a bear shit in the woods?”
“What the fuck does that mean? Are you going to shit on the pickleball court?” Bridger asked.
“It means, she can cover for him, dickhead.” I barked out a laugh.
“Ah… she’s a cocky little one, isn’t she?” Clark said. “Buckle up, Sonnet. Easton is no joke about the Chad-six.”
“Well, he’ll have to amend his rules if he wants me to sub. I won’t wear that ridiculous tee. If I’m going to play, I’m going to wear something spectacular.”
“Do you actually know how to play?” Bridger groaned. “Because I can’t deal with his moping if you suck.”
“My best friend has taught me a trick or two. You needn’t worry, boys. I can hold my own on any court.” She turned to me and waggled her brows.
“I don’t doubt that for a minute,” I said, tugging her head down and kissing her.
It wasn’t for show or for a camera to catch us together.
I kissed her because I wanted to.
I kissed her because I needed to.
“And that’s our cue.” Clark pushed to his feet. “Come on, big guy. Let’s get our asses home. You ran off the two women who actually wanted to go home with us.”
“Because Fiona talks too much, and her voice is ridiculously high-pitched, and Wendy spits every time she speaks to me. I’m not going to fake it just to get laid.” Bridger pushed to his feet and slapped a few hundred-dollar bills down on the table.
“Well, I was fine faking it,” Clark said, clapping me on the shoulder before leaning down and kissing Lulu on the cheek as she pushed off my lap to stand.
Bridger shocked the shit out of me when he wrapped his arms around her. “I’m glad you dumped that jackass and scared him off before I had to put my fist in his face.”
“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Bridger Chadwick,” Lulu said, as the corners of her lips turned up, and she pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.
“Don’t get used to it,” he said, slapping me on the shoulder. “See you, brother.”
“I like your family,” she said as she reached for her purse.
“They’re all right,” I smirked. “You ready to head home?”
She looked up and smiled. “I’m ready for round two, Rafael.”
I hurried her out the door before picking her up and tossing her over my shoulder as I started jogging toward Easton’s house.
“What the hell are you doing?” she squealed over her laughter as she smacked me on the ass.
“My woman wants round two, so who am I to deny her?”
Because I don’t think I could ever deny this woman anything she wanted.