26. The Green-Eyed Monster #2
Even with all the noise, it’s impossible to miss the chatter that starts, the small frenzy that suddenly ensues, and when a wicked smirk breaks across Cara’s face, I know: they’re here.
She shoves her martinis into Olivia’s hands and points at a handsome, dark-haired man. “You. Dance with me.”
His eyes double in size. “O-okay.”
She snuggles into his chest and slides his hands over her hips as they start swaying together, and the poor guy looks like he’s in heaven.
He might be in thirty seconds. Emmett looks like he’s gonna put him through the floor.
The broad teddy bear of a man comes to a stop in front of them, staring down at his smiling wife. His fists clench and he flicks his gaze toward the man holding Cara. “Hands off my wife. Now. ”
He drops Cara like she’s on fire, sprinting off the dance floor, and I snicker-snort as Emmett scoops her up, tosses her over his shoulder, and carts her off toward the private booths in the back.
Hot breath kisses my neck, a shiver of anticipation dancing down my spine.
“You’re about to be next, somewhere a fuckload more private, and with my handprint tattooed on your ass.
So if I were you, I’d quit laughing.” There’s a quick, sharp slap to my left ass cheek before Garrett struts by me, turns around, and calls out, “Found ’em! ”
“Ollie!” Carter skids onto the dance floor, breathless. He looks down at Olivia, his gaze heating by the moment. “Ollie,” he murmurs. “Baby, you look fucking—”
“You fuckers.” Adam wraps me in a hug, smothering a compliment I don’t need to hear. “You had us all over the city.”
“It was Cara’s idea,” I say, hugging Jaxon next. “We’re just the innocent bystanders.”
Jaxon unbuttons his collar, eyes coasting over the club. “And I appreciate it.” He grins down at me. “I need to blow off some steam tonight.”
“Assuming that’s code for get laid?”
That grin keeps growing, and he holds his hand out. “Wanna dance?”
I meet Garrett’s narrowed gaze over his shoulder. “Love to.”
Tattooed , my big guy mouths before I disappear with Jaxon.
I’ve grown to like Jaxon, and it hasn’t taken much.
Is he still a bit of an egotistical ass?
Yes. Is he exceptionally horny? Who isn’t?
But he’s friendly and easy, and there’s something quiet about him that keeps me talking to him.
Maybe it’s because I’ve always felt a bit like the outsider within this group, and when he came along, he felt it too.
He was accepted without hesitation, the same way I was, but sometimes I wonder if he questions his place here, the same as me.
“Does Andersen look pissed to you? He looks pissed to me.”
Garrett has one elbow on the bar as he sips a sparkling lemon water, stare set on us.
But does he look pissed? He looks like he’s going to take what he wants as many times as he wants tonight before he finally gives me what I want; that’s how he looks.
Either way, sounds like a great night. Can’t wait.
“You know what else I’ve noticed about that guy?” Jaxon brings my attention back to him. “He drinks when we’re on road trips and stuff, or if the guys go out together, but whenever you’re around, he only drinks sparkling water.”
I’ve noticed, too, though we’ve not once talked about it since that night we shared our first kiss.
Garrett never touches a drop when we’re together, even if we’re out with everyone else.
He used to have a six-pack stowed in his fridge, but now it’s hot chocolate or bust. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen a beer bottle there.
“He’s a supportive friend,” is what I tell Jaxon.
“Yeah, he’s a pretty good guy.” The song ends, and Jaxon takes my hand, leading me off the dance floor. “Even if he does look like he wants to murder me. Maybe Cara was right.”
“Right about what?”
“That he’s got a crush on you. She said so on New Year’s Eve.”
I stumble over my own two feet, and a large hand lands on my lower back, catching me. Garrett steadies me, then guides me into our private booth, sliding in behind me.
Jaxon arches a brow, looking between us.
“There’s something seriously wrong with you if you believe everything that woman says,” Garrett finally says. He nods in the direction of the woman in question, who happens to be in her husband’s lap, hands in his hair, tongue in his mouth. “C’mon, Riley.”
Jaxon chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a seat across from us. “Fuck, yeah, you’re right. Cara can’t be trusted.”
Cara flashes her middle finger over her shoulder.
Carter, Adam, and Olivia join us a moment later, Carter with a tray of various drinks and a food menu—priorities—and Adam half supporting a quickly failing Olivia. She looks to be both coming down from her sugar high and regretting her decision to wear heels.
An hour later, I haven’t moved from my spot, and I’m having the time of my life. It’s perhaps partly due to the unholy amount of sexual frustration rolling off the man next to me as he reads each text I send him without being able to outwardly react.
Me: Should I ride Indiana Bones tonight, or your face?
Me: God, I can’t stop thinking about your tongue on my pussy. I love when you make me your meal.
Me: Maybe we can try that little glass plug tonight while I suck your cock.
Me: If you slipped your hand between my legs right now, you’d find out how wet I am.
Garrett’s fist clenches so hard around his glass, I’m worried it might shatter. He sets it down and furiously types out a response.
Bear: How wet are you, sunshine? Don’t leave out any details and I’ll go easy on you tonight.
Me: What if I don’t want you to go easy on me, big guy?
Bear: How. Wet. Are. You?
Me: So drenched, you’d be able to slide right in.
Garrett leaps to his feet, accidentally shoving Adam out of the booth. “Bathroom!” he shouts. “Gotta go. Pee. Bye. See ya.”
I suppress my laugh as he dashes off, and the rest of the guys follow to grab more drinks.
They’re not gone more than thirty seconds when a tall, lean man with dark curls approaches, his deep brown eyes friendly and set on me.
Nerves pull at my skin, and I cross one leg over the other, busying myself with my drink.
“Hi there,” he says, stopping at the edge of the booth. “I’m—”
“Oh my God!” Olivia comes alive, clapping her hands. “You’re Alejandro Perez!” She squeals, fists shaking beneath her chin. “Jennie, he’s the—”
“Midfielder from the Vancouver Whitecaps,” Alejandro finishes, laughing.
“So sorry. I’m fangirling a bit. I played soccer growing up and—”
“Soccer?” Cara sips her drink. “Thank God. You said midfielder and I was like, ‘I haven’t heard of that hockey position before. Which one of our guys plays it?’”
Alejandro’s still grinning. He’s got a great one, wide and toothy, but it’s not goofy and lopsided like Garrett’s. He holds his hand out, and I slip mine in simply because I don’t know what else to do. “And who are you?”
“Jennie,” I answer quietly, meeting Garrett’s curious gaze as he approaches.
“Excuse me.” He steps between me and Alejandro, sliding in next to me, extra close.
“Oh.” Alejandro examines the proximity of our bodies. “Are you two…?”
I look at Garrett. He looks at me. It’s Cara who answers the question.
“No, our Jennie here is single as a Pringle. Isn’t that right, Gare-Bear?”
Garrett’s gaze lingers before he drops it, sipping his water, and I don’t know why, but when he murmurs, “Right,” my stomach dips, heavy with disappointment.
“Cool.” Alejandro extends his hand. “Hey, you’re Garrett Andersen, right? Right-winger for the Vipers? I’m a big fan.”
Garrett shakes his hand, giving him a smile that seems a little tight to me. “Right back ’atcha. The guys and I already have tickets for your home opener.”
“Right on. We should grab some drinks afterward.” Before Garrett can respond, Alejandro turns his attention back to me. I shift in my seat, not wanting it, not used to it. “And I was hoping to buy you a drink right now, Jennie.”
“Oh…” Uncomfortable heat prickles my neck. “I don’t drink.”
“Water counts just fine.”
“Yeah, Jennie,” Cara pipes up. “Water counts just fine.”
I flash her a warning look, and she folds her lips into her mouth. Olivia’s watching me with an indecipherable expression, gaze flickering to Garrett, who feels like ice beside me. I don’t want him to feel like ice; I like when he’s warm like sunshine.
I clear my throat, steel my spine, and smile up at Alejandro. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested.”
“Not interested in general, or not interested in me?”
My eyes coast the bar for something to say to shut this down quickly.
I catch sight of the boys returning with drinks, my brother leading the way with what looks like an extremely ostentatious helping of blue and pink cotton candy sitting atop a glass of champagne, and I can guess that’s the only reason he ordered it.
“Truth be told, I’m not really looking to expand my pool of professional athletes.
I’ve already got an overprotective one on retainer as my big brother. ”
“Ollie, look! This drink came with cotton candy!” Carter shoves said cotton candy in her face, then rips a piece off and eats it. His eyes widen when he sees Alejandro. “Oh hey! Perez!”
Alejandro looks from Carter to me. “Jesus, you two are nearly identical. How did I miss that?”
Carter sits with a chuckle. “Yeah, Jennie gets her strikingly good looks from me.”
I may not want Alejandro’s attention, but when he pulls up a chair next to Carter and everyone becomes quick friends, a strange sense of disappointment washes over me, mixed with déjà vu.
I had his attention, and now Carter does, and that’s just the way life goes when your brother is the captain of an NHL team.
Forcing my drink to my lips, I take a sip, the fingers of my free hand playing with my soggy napkin in my lap. A big hand covers mine, pulling the napkin free and setting it on the table. A second later, Garrett tucks his pinky carefully around mine, and something inside me settles.
I’ve got the only attention I want.
Forty-five minutes, several dirty texts, one dance with Adam, two with Cara, and a virgin cotton candy drink later, I’m hiding out in the bathroom.
It’s becoming impossible not to look at Garrett, and his pinky hooked around mine below the table isn’t enough anymore.
I’m hot and hungry, dying to get out of here and go home, where we can finally say a proper hello.
I pat my neck with a cool, damp cloth and sigh before heading out into the dark hallway.
Strong fingers wrap around my wrist, tugging me into a hidden alcove. My pulse thunders, a fiery heat spreading through my lower belly as my back is pressed to a hard, broad chest. A warm hand dips below the hem of my shirt, gliding over my torso. Soft lips touch my exposed shoulder.
“You have goose bumps,” Garrett whispers.
“Because you scared the crap out of me, you dink.” The words end in a moan when his mouth opens on my neck. When his name slips out of my mouth on a whimper, his hand covers it.
“Shh, sunshine. Make any more noise and I won’t be able to get what I came over here for, and I gotta tell ya, I can’t wait another minute.” He captures my jaw in his hand, turning my face to his, showing me the hungry darkness that glints in his eyes.
And then his mouth takes mine.
It’s everything I want it to be: starved, possessive, wet, hot . God, it’s so hot. But more than that, it’s…wistful. Yearning. Reverent .
He missed me. Maybe as much as I missed him.
As if to prove my point, he pulls back, resting his forehead against mine with a gentle sigh. “I miss you.” Present tense, not past.
I thread our fingers together. “I’m right here.”
“I know, but I’ve been busy with hockey, and you with dance and smelly Simon. I’m just grumpy ’cause I feel like I’m on time-out.”
“Well then, you must’ve been a bad boy.”
“So bad,” he murmurs, mouth taking mine again with a low growl.
He pushes me against the wall and casts a glance over his shoulder before his fingers dance up my front, wrapping lightly around my throat.
“I’m gonna take you home and fuck your soaking wet pussy with Indiana Bones.
Then I’m gonna lick you clean and make you come all over again, this time on my tongue. ”
Oh, Jesus.
“Got it?”
I swallow, nodding, and a deep ache settles between my legs as Garrett trails his nose down my neck, then back up to my ear.
“Use your words, sunshine. I know you have them.”
My tongue drags across my lips, desperate to taste him again. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” He presses himself against me, letting me feel the weight of his own need. “Now, let’s go back to the table and you can pretend like you hate me still.”
“You like when I pretend to hate you.”
“Yeah.” He pops a quick kiss to my cheek, then stuffs his hand down his pants to adjust that glorious lump, hissing. “It turns me on when you’re sassy to me.”
I giggle, but it doesn’t last.
In fact, it dies quickly when my eyes meet those wide hazel ones watching us.
Jaxon stands before us, gaze pinballing between Garrett and me, jaw getting closer and closer to the ground. He grins suddenly, but it’s one of those terrified, awkward ones, all bright, clenched teeth.
“Uh…” He clears his throat and claps his fist into his opposite hand. “So, um, I heard that…”
“Oh no.” I cover my trembling mouth with my hands. “ No .” Tears fill my eyes, ready to spill. “Carter’s going to kill me.”
“Oh. Oh fuck. No.” Jaxon waves his hands erratically.
“Fuck, no, please don’t cry. I won’t—I won’t tell him.
I promise. Please don’t cry.” He looks to Garrett for help before squeezing both my shoulders.
“Hey, it’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me, Jennie, really.
And, uh…” His gaze falls to Garrett’s crotch.
“I won’t tell everyone you named your junk after Indiana Jones.
I haven’t heard that one before. It’s…new. ”
I sniffle, wiping at my eyes. “Thanks, Jaxon. You’re a good friend.”
We watch him leave, and when he disappears, Garrett raises his fist.
“Good call on the tears.”
I bump my fist off his. “Gets ’em every time.”