Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
MORGAN
Here I was, thinking this situation couldn’t get any worse, and then Carter had to open his big mouth and utter the stupidest words you could say in this situation.
I suspect he’s the only guy in the bar who doesn’t recognize Aidan.
A few weeks without a haircut or trimming his beard, and he looks every bit the hockey player he’s known as and almost nothing like the guy I flirted with at a bar in Bermuda.
“Let’s not find out.” Aidan is eerily calm, his voice making him sound almost bored, and that seems to ramp Carter up even more.
I have no idea what Carter is thinking—Aidan is easily six inches taller than him, with about fifty pounds more muscle.
And despite his calm voice, I can tell Aidan is wound tight, ready to beat Carter’s ass if he makes the wrong choice here.
It’s like he’s just waiting for Carter to throw the first punch so he can show him what or what looks like.
“Hey,” a sharp voice comes from my left, and we all turn to see the bartender setting three drinks on the bar top. “Cool it, you two, or I’ll have security remove you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Carter’s voice rings out like a petulant child, “this asshole is bothering us.”
Standing between these two men—so different in every way—it’s unbelievable that I ever fell for one, and unfortunate that I can’t have the other.
No, you don’t want Aidan, I remind myself. We had a great few days in Bermuda, back when I thought he was someone else. Nothing about us together makes any sense.
Carter steps past me, as I stand with my back against the bar, and shoves Aidan again. It’s like he has zero self-preservation instincts.
When Aidan barely moves despite the way Carter throws his weight into the shove, Carter instead cocks his elbow back like he’s winding up to punch him.
I don’t move away fast enough, and his elbow connects with my cheek.
I yelp in surprise as I press a hand to my cheek, and then the pain strikes and my eyes instantly fill with tears. Fuck, that hurt.
Stepping toward Carter, Aidan pulls me behind him. Over the shouts of everyone around us, I have to strain to hear Aidan’s words. “You’re going to apologize to her, and then you’re leaving.”
“The hell I am,” Carter says, and he must make a move toward Aidan because when I peek around his side, Aidan’s fist connects with Carter’s nose and the sound of crunching bone silences everyone in the immediate vicinity.
“Aidan,” I gasp, “your hand—”
“Is perfectly fine. See?” Instead of showing me his hand, he punches a stunned Carter a second time, this time connecting with his jaw. And a third time, right on the side of his face.
Carter’s head snaps back each time, but he stays upright, and as Aidan goes to punch him again, my voice rings out sharply. “Aidan. Stop!”
He stills instantly, and we watch as Carter stands there swaying side to side before he steps back, slips, and falls on his ass.
“Enjoy your broken nose, asshole,” Aidan says as he grabs my hand and drags me through the crowd toward the door.
On the sidewalk outside, Aidan moves so quickly I’m nearly running to keep up with him.
About a block down, he pulls me into the alcove that houses the recessed doors to a shop.
The light above us shines in my eyes as he tilts my chin up, moving it to the side as his fingertips lightly skim my cheek. “That’s going to leave a bruise.”
“No shit.” I wince at his light touch, but am not in the mood to listen to him state the obvious. “What the fuck was that all about? I had things handled, and you made it worse.”
His fingers steer my jaw upward, making me meet his gaze. “He had his hand around your waist and wouldn’t leave you alone. That’s not handled.”
“Oh, so the big hockey player has to come throw his weight around? How fucking predictable.”
“Nooo,” the word is slow and deliberate leaving his lips. “You just needed backup.”
“No, I didn’t. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m an adult and can handle myself.”
“He was not leaving you alone, despite your telling him multiple times.”
I don’t know what bothers me more—the way he stepped in and escalated things, or the fact that he saw me as weak and needing rescuing from the confrontation with Carter.
“I don’t need you inserting yourself into situations I already have a handle on. Or any situations, for that matter. I’m going home to put some ice on my face.”
“I’m coming with you.”
I step past him onto the sidewalk. “No, you’re not. Go back to your teammates, Renaud.” Using his last name doesn’t dismiss him the way I intend it to, because as I head down the street, he steps up beside me.
“I’m not going back in there.”
“Why not?”
“Aside from the fact that they probably wouldn’t let me back in, I can’t be held responsible for what else I’d do to the asshole who was harassing you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets as we walk.
Half a block later, when it’s apparent he’s intent on following me to make sure I get home safely, I say, “Are you sure your hand is okay? That was such a stupid thing to do after having multiple surgeries.”
He chuckles. “That was my right hand. If I’d used my dominant hand, he would’ve been on the floor. I went easy on him.”
I shake my head at him and his ridiculous bravado. “What is it about men that makes them think fighting is the answer to everything?”
“Maybe brute force is the way we protect people when words don’t do the job.”
I huff out a laugh. “Not every problem requires your fists to solve it.”
“That one did.”
My phone rings before I’ve even closed the door to my apartment, and AJ’s number flashes on my screen.
I barely even have time to say hello before she’s talking, “Morgan, where did you guys go? McCabe and I tried to follow you out, but by the time we were on the sidewalk, you were already gone.” We must have been standing in the recessed doorway at that point, so they didn’t see us when they looked down the street. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, glancing over the island into my kitchen where Aidan is fishing around in my freezer. “Just about to get some ice on my cheek, but I’m fine.”
“I’d like to know what the fuck Renaud was thinking,” she says. I’m holding the phone out from my face so it doesn’t touch my cheek, and since he looks over at me with a smirk, he must be able to hear her even across the room.
“You know what, me too. He’s right here.
Hold on, you can ask him yourself.” I’m laughing silently as he glares at me, but I’m enjoying this too much.
Getting in trouble with his boss would serve him right for involving himself in my life when I didn’t ask for his help, and for fighting after she told him that he needs to stop.
He hands me a bag of frozen corn as I set my phone on the island and put the call on speakerphone. His lip curls up into a subtle smile, and he shakes his head at me like he’s already thinking of a way to repay me for putting him in this position.
“Hey, boss,” Aidan’s voice is apologetic. It’s the kind of tone you use when you know you’re in trouble.
“No less than five hours after we announce you as the alternate captain, and you’re already fighting? And not even on the ice, where it’s legal?” AJ is pissed and not doing anything to hide it.
“That guy was harassing Morgan and refused to take his hands off her after she’d asked him to. What kind of an alternate captain would I be if I didn’t stand up for people who work for the team?”
AJ’s silent for a moment. “That’s really what started that?”
“Yeah.”
With the frozen corn held against my face, I shake my head at him trying to charm AJ.
I can’t help but smile when he grins and gives me a wink, like he knows he’s saying the right things.
This playful side of him is so much more like the version of him I saw when we were alone in Bermuda than the hockey player I’ve seen since we returned to Boston.
And truthfully, he does seem to keep showing up when I could use some backup—first at that dinner with my mom a week ago, and then tonight with Carter. He’s being a good friend, which is what we’ve agreed to since there’s no way we can actually avoid each other.
“You didn’t have to punch him. I specifically told you not to risk your hand by fighting,” AJ says, and I nod in agreement with my eyebrows lifted, but that motion hurts and I wince.
“I hit him with my other hand. I’m not stupid enough to risk my career like that.
Besides, he pushed me twice and threw the first punch,” Aidan says, and my chest shakes with silent laughter because, standing behind him, I didn’t even realize Carter hit him.
I thought it was just a shove, since Aidan didn’t even flinch. “I was defending myself.”
“Bullshit. Maybe that first punch was self-defense, but the second and third certainly weren’t. And you wouldn’t have stopped there, either, if Morgan hadn’t told you to.”
“What can I say . . . she’s a good influence on me.”
“Hmmm.” The sound rattles around in the silence of my apartment. “Speaking of which, are you at her place?”
He looks at me like he’s not sure how to respond, so I nod that he should tell her. “Yes, I walked her home. Wanted to make sure she was okay and that asshole, Carter, didn’t follow her from the bar.”
“That was Carter?” AJ’s voice is the perfect mix of oh my god and I’m going back there to rip his balls off, myself.
“Yeah,” I say with a deflated sigh. “In the flesh.”
“Oh, Morgan. I’m so sorry you ever wasted your time on him.”
Hearing her confirm that I’m too good for him, and knowing that he still didn’t want me, makes me feel even worse. So does the smug look plastered across Aidan’s face.
“He’s a mistake I’d really like to keep in the past.” I need to turn this conversation away from my love life. “Okay, so I’m safely home, which means Renaud is about to leave. Before he goes, how are we going to handle the PR nightmare that’s probably already unfurling on social media?”
“I’m going to need you to put together a statement from the Rebels, and while Renaud’s there, could you please help him craft an appropriate response, too?”
“No problem, boss,” Aidan says with a sly grin in my direction. “I’ll stay as long as it takes.”
“Which won’t be long,” I add emphatically. I need him out of my space so I can think about what just happened back at the bar, why he followed me home and insisted on coming in, and whether either of those things means something.
We disconnect the call and he opens the fridge, pulling out two cans of seltzer and then looking around the living area of my apartment. “Give me a tour?”
“Aidan, what was supposed to be a fun night out with friends has now turned into more work and a black eye, thanks to you. Let’s just get this over with.”
He sets the cans on the counter and moves toward me.
He rests his hand over mine where it holds the bag of frozen corn against my face, then leans in.
With his voice low, he says, “Hey, I’m sorry about both, but I’m not sorry I hit that douchebag who clearly deserved it.
And I’m even less sorry now that I know you and he had something together in the past.”
I shake my head slightly. “Can we please forget about that part of it?” Now that I’ve seen Carter and Aidan side by side and experienced how they each treated me, I’m actually embarrassed that I ever gave Carter my time and attention.
“Trust me, I’m trying to wipe it from my memory. I don’t want to think about you with anyone else.”
A shiver racks my body at his possessive tone, but I ignore it. Instead, I lift an eyebrow. “Or with you, right? Since we’re just friends?”
He nods, but there’s nothing friendly about the way he’s eying me.
“So, about that tour, friend?” He heads out of the kitchen and starts walking through my living room, and I follow behind him, trying not to focus on the way his pants cling to his ass.
I know I should get him to focus on the statement we need to write, but seeing him relaxed and borderline flirtatious reminds me how much I like this side of him.
Friends, I tell myself as he heads down the hallway to explore the rest of my place. Just show him around first, and then you can get him to focus.