Chapter 4 Chase
My eyes dart to the door as it opens, a flicker of recognition crossing my face, and a ghost of a smile tugs at my lips.
She’s back.
She walks through the bar, her posture tense, eyes flicking around as if preparing for an ambush. She’s not used to crowds—I can tell.
Brodie and Bella follow closely behind her. He told me earlier that he invited Bella, and she was bringing her sister along, who he hadn’t met but knew from Bella that she was shy and quiet.
I haven’t met Bella yet, either. I’ve seen her picture, but Brodie’s plan was to introduce us tonight, as they’ve been on enough dates to determine they’re serious about each other.
However, I didn’t anticipate my introduction to Erin would consist of me running into her…literally. And I wasn’t expecting her to be so damn beautiful.
It caught me off guard, that’s for sure.
I stared at her, struck by her gentle features for a few seconds before my brain kicked into gear and I found my words to ask if she was okay.
Just as Erin, Brodie, and Bella take their seats, the lights dim. Hollers and cheers ring out from every corner of the bar, and players move closer to the stage, drinks in hand.
I slide into a chair that’s been vacated, giving me a perfect view of the stage and Erin.
Rudy is the first to step up. He takes a swig of his drink, and his right hand combs through his rich, deep brown strands. The front pieces fall just past his forehead in soft curls, a sharp contrast to the neatly cropped sides.
I shake my head as I watch the right winger flirt with the women gathering in front of the stage, mischief dancing in his playful brown eyes.
His attire is polished in a way that says he came to impress, but I know he did nothing more than shower and apply cologne and beard oil.
That’s Rudy—effortless, smooth, and confident.
He taps on the mic twice, and it echoes loudly around the room.
“Miss you, brother,” he says into it, and then the music starts.
Laughter echoes as Rudy howls the lyrics to Jackson 5’s “Who’s Lovin’ You.” His voice dips and cracks as he pushes for the high notes, but he’s got the crowd and is giving a performance of a lifetime.
But my eyes are on Erin.
She’s fucking beautiful.
I watch her laugh and clap her hands. So carefree and real. She’s captivating.
I don’t know what it is about her. Maybe it’s the way she holds herself, or the light that radiates from her as she clearly tries to hide.
I find myself watching her more than I should. Her smile is carefree and unguarded. It lights up her whole face. Her mouth spreads wide, showing a glimpse of teeth, and her eyes sparkle with mirth.
It cuts through the tension in my chest. And for a moment, I forget about the heaviness of the last six months. Just looking at her makes my body weightless, the drowning pull of my grief momentarily forgotten.
As she watches the guys butcher classic after classic, I find myself focusing on the little things—the way she bites her lip when she’s trying not to laugh and how her eyes crinkle when she finds something funny.
There’s an innocence about her that doesn’t fit the world of hockey players and bright lights. It makes me want to know her more.
She’s nothing like the usual girls I go for. She’s tiny. No more than five feet. Doll-like in comparison to my six-foot-four frame.
My mind wanders to all the ways her body would feel draped over my shoulder and how pretty she’d look tangled up in the sheets with me all night long. My dick stirs at the thought of it.
Nothing about her screams she wants attention from me or anyone else, for that matter.
Not her demeanor, body language, or her simple outfit of black skinny jeans and a white tee tucked at the waist. Her hair is tied in a loose ponytail.
Dark brown waves sway down her small back, short bangs framing her makeup-free face.
There’s only one word that comes to mind.
Gorgeous.
Oliver, Hayes, Rudy, and Austin take a bow after their performance of “Islands in the Stream.”
As they turn to get off the stage, Oliver smacks our broody captain on the ass. Hayes shoots him our defenseman with death stare, and Erin bends at the waist and erupts into a fit of giggles.
Bella leans into her sister and whispers a few words in her ear. When she pulls back, Bella grins wide.
When Erin’s eyes lift to find mine watching her, I have no doubt that’s what Bella whispered to her.
I give her a wave.
Erin’s gaze widens, and she covers her face with a book. A chuckle rumbles out of me, and then I’m moving.
It’s as if Erin knows I’m coming for her because her fingertips press harder into the book she’s holding.
“Hey, man,” Brodie greets. “This is Bella. Bella, this is my best friend, Chase,” Brodie adds.
I stick my hand out to Bella. “Hey, it’s nice to meet the girl he can’t shut up about.”
Bella laughs. “He talks about you a lot, too. This is my sister, Erin. Say hello, Erin,” Bella coos, elbowing her sister.
“Hi,” Erin squeaks from behind her book.
Brodie folds his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing while Bella pries the book out of Erin’s hands and shoves it under her butt.
Erin gapes at her, and I observe the two sisters communicating with facial expressions. It’s entertaining, to say the least, and Bella appears to have won.
“We already bumped into each other,” I say, sticking out my hand in an attempt to try this again. “I’m Chase.”
Erin hesitates, her eyes flicking nervously between my hand and my face.
For a second, I think she might leave me hanging, but then her hand lifts and she places it in mine. Tentative and trembling. And then, just as quickly, she pulls away, her head dipping low.
Why does this simple touch seem to carry more meaning than it should?
“H-hi. I’m Erin,” she says, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes flicking to mine for just a moment. I find myself fighting the need to reward her for her bravery but suppress the urge to kiss her right on the mouth.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bookworm.”
A beautiful tint creeps up her sun-kissed skin at the nickname. She lowers her gaze to her lap, biting her lip as if fighting a reaction. Her eyes close, and I study her intently.
There’s a worried expression on her face, one I’ve seen a few times tonight. Her lips begin to move. She’s mouthing words, but I can’t make out any of them. And then her eyes open, and she lifts her head ever so slowly.
“You too,” is all she says, and it’s the best thing I’ve heard in a long time.