Chapter 45
HAYDEN
“What the fuck is he doing?” I seethe as Dylan fucking Harvey makes a beeline for Hailee at the bar. My fingers curl around the edge of the cushion I’m sitting on, and I force myself to stay put.
Hailee has no reason to be worried about the bunnies. I haven’t touched one in my first year of playing in the NHL, and I’m certainly not starting now that I’ve got someone worth more than every single one of them put together promising to let me sneak into her hotel room tonight.
As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t another woman on the planet now that Hailee Caldwell is mine.
“Oh, he was the one we saw when we were out shopping,” Bea says innocently behind me.
“What?” I balk. I want to turn to look at her so I can judge her expression, but I can’t take my eyes from Hailee and the asshole who’s standing just a little too close to her.
She looks hot as fuck in her sequined little black dress.
It hangs from thin spaghetti straps and skims her curves in the sexiest fucking way.
It doesn’t showcase them like her dress from the ball; it’s more of a tease, because it’s obvious that what’s hiding beneath is mind-blowing.
And then there’s her sculpted legs, which I’ve now learned are toned from hours of yoga, and the fuck-me heels.
Holy hell, if I don’t want to see what they look like later when her legs are resting on my shoulders as I fuck any and every memory of any other man from her mind.
“We bumped into him while we were shopping for the ball. I had no idea who he was, but obviously Hailee did. He approved of her dress,” she teases.
“He saw her in her fucking dress?” I seethe.
“He was loitering around the dressing room. I thought his eyes were gonna pop out of his head.”
“Yeah, no,” I state before pushing to my feet and marching off. I swear I hear Bea call, “Go get her soldier,” behind me, but I don’t look back, I’ve got my sights on an Ace, who needs to get back in his fucking box.
“You’d love it there,” Dylan is saying when I approach.
“Oh, yeah. I’m sure. It sounds incredible,” Hailee says, her spine stiffening as I step up beside her.
“What’s that?” I ask, blatantly interrupting. I know that I should be more discreet, but there’s no fucking way I’m letting this asshole hit on my girl right in front of me.
“I was just telling Hailee here about a new restaurant that’s opened up downtown,” Dylan states, barely glancing in my direction. “So, when do you leave?”
“First thing in the morning,” I answer for her. I realize my mistake the second her shoulders hitch up. But it’s too late. The words are out, and I’ll do anything in my fucking power to get this asshole away from her. “We’ve gotta call it early tonight. Playing again tomorrow.”
His eyes glance over. “I’m sure you are. But the last time I checked, Hailee isn’t on your team.”
“She might as well be. The Vipers are a family.”
“Excuse me,” Hailee mutters before placing her almost full glass on the bar, before spinning away and marching toward the bathrooms.
“The fuck is your problem?” Dylan asks, finally turning his attention to me.
“You,” I state simply. “This place is teeming with bunnies. You need someone to try and distract you from your game tonight, then I’d suggest you go and find one of them.”
His eyes narrow as he takes a step closer, but before he manages to get a word out, people step up behind me, flanking me.
“Problem?” Rett barks.
Dylan looks from me to him and then back before registering just how many guys surround me.
“And now fuck off,” Killer sings, flicking his fingers to shoo him away.
Dylan’s face twists with anger, but despite going at it with Killer earlier today and landing himself more than one visit to the penalty box, he manages to keep a lid on it.
He takes a step back before sneering, “You were lucky tonight. It won’t happen again.”
Thankfully, he continues backing away before he disappears from our sight.
“The fuck was that?” Killer asks.
“He’s an asshole and shouldn’t be near any of us.”
“Hailee had it under control,” Linc states confidently. “And she’d never go for an asshole like that.”
“She’s more likely to castrate him than entertain any shit that comes out of his mouth,” Rett agrees before he turns as if someone called his name and whispers, “Go,” in my ear.
I don’t hang around to see if he knows what he’s doing, or if the others watch as I escape. My focus is purely on how much trouble I’m in with Hailee.
I slip down the hallway that leads to the VIP restrooms, and I’m halfway down when the door to the ladies' opens and the woman I’m chasing emerges.
“Hails,” I say, continuing toward her.
Her expression is hard, her eyes are narrowed, and anger is coming off her in waves.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken for you like that.”
She softens a little, silently letting me know that she appreciates that at least I know I fucked up.
“No, you shouldn’t. I have my own voice and can fight my own battles. I’ve been doing it for years. Just because we…nothing needs to change.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, stepping a little closer and reaching out to brush my fingers against hers. “Watching him with you…the way he was looking at you. Fuck, Hails. It drove me fucking insane.”
Her lips thin as she stares up at me. “You’re gonna have to learn how to lock that down, Monroe.”
Her use of my surname takes me by surprise, and I take a step back as if she just hit me.
But I get it. Right now, we’re not Hailee and Hayden. We’re Monroe and Caldwell, and I need to get that into my head before I fuck all of this up.
She’s asked for time, and I’ll give her anything she fucking wants.
Heavy footsteps pound behind me, and when I glance back, I find Killer walking toward us.
“All right?” he asks, his eyes darting between the two of us.
“Of course,” Hailee agrees, her frustration falling away before my eyes, before she smiles at him.
“Great. I need a piss.”
“Wonderful. The cars are coming for us in thirty,” she reminds him.
“Yeah, yeah. I got it, Mom.”
Hailee rolls her eyes before she mutters, “Excuse me,” and slips around me and back to the party.
“What did you do to piss off the ice queen?” he asks when I catch up with him and slip into the restroom behind him.
“Do we ever really know?” I say lightly, hoping like hell he’ll buy it.
“Just don’t let her learn your weakness. She’ll use it against you.”
“That bird incident really scarred you for life, didn’t it?”
He groans as we go about our business.
It was before I signed with the Vipers, but I’ve heard all about it.
He’d done something to piss Hailee off, so she set up a charity event that included birds of prey handling, and Killer shit his pants.
“Yeah. I swear to God, I still have nightmares about it. Be careful around her, Marilyn. She knows how to get in here,” he says, tapping his temple as he turns toward the hand dryer.
Yeah, don’t I fucking know it.
We make our way back out of the bar, where Rett has a round of sodas waiting for us. It’s not exactly the kind of night out we’re used to after a game, but with another one tomorrow, it’s how it has to be.
I take the glass and swallow down a few mouthfuls as I scan the VIP area for my girl.
I hate that I pissed her off. That I stepped in when I shouldn’t.
She might not have fully explained her past, but I know enough to understand just how much her independence and control over her own life mean to her.
I never, ever want her to think she can’t do or say anything she wants.
She’s right, she is her own person, and she deserves just as much respect as everyone else.
I just…fuck, I was jealous as fuck. I’m going to have to get a handle on it, though, because Dylan Harvey won’t be the last guy to try it on with my girl.
I mean, look at her—she’s fucking stunning.
There can’t be a man on the planet who wouldn’t want to shoot their shot with her.
Lucky for me, though, she isn’t going home with any of them.
My need for her grows, and I pull my cell from my pocket.
I’ve got a screenful of notifications, but I ignore them all and pull up our chat.
Hayden: Let me make it up to you.
I rest my ass back against the bar as the guys get lost in conversation about tonight’s game and watch, waiting for her to see it.
She’s in work mode, so she’ll be on top of her cell, and I expect to see it read any moment.
A smile twitches at my lips the second the ticks light up.
Hayden: Meet me downstairs on the dance floor.
My heart picks up speed as I hit send, abandon my glass on the bar, and walk away without saying a word.
Sensing I’m being watched, I look over my shoulder to find Bea watching me closely.
She nods, a smile playing on her lips, silently encouraging me.
I descend the stairs to the main part of the club, and once I’m there, I keep my head down and head straight for the darkest corner of the dance floor before unlocking my cell again and opening the camera.
I snap a selfie, doing my best to show my location, then tap out a message to accompany it.
Hayden: Find me, and you can do whatever you want with me
My temperature spikes and my heart slams against my chest.
Thankfully, everyone back here is lost in their own little worlds, and no one so much as looks up at me as I loiter, awkwardly moving to the music as I wait to see if she’s going to throw caution to the wind and steal a dance with me before we head back.
Fuck. I want it. I want to be able to act like a normal couple. I want to feel her hips rolling against mine, glide my hands over her body, and maybe just discover what she is or isn’t wearing under that little dress.
Her words as she climbed out of the car earlier haven’t left me—nor has the semi they caused.
Time ticks on. I get no reply to my message, and I start to assume she’s not coming.
I get why she wouldn’t. It’s a risk. But fuck, I really want her to.
I check my cell one more time and tell myself I’ll give it another two minutes, and then I’ll head back up with my tail between my legs.
I count down in my head, and I’ve got thirty seconds left when heat spreads down my back.
My heart lurches, because there’s every chance it could be someone else, a drunk girl taking a chance on what looks like a lonely guy. But the second a pair of small hands land on my waist, I know it isn’t a random girl. It’s my girl.
I spin around, already smiling, and it only grows when I find her staring up at me.
“I’m still mad at you,” she states, her voice all business-like, which makes my dick jerk in excitement.
Man, I fucking love it when she gets all bossy and tells me what to do.
“I know,” I say, holding my hands out from my sides, offering myself up to her. “What are you going to do about it?”
Her eyes darken as ideas flicker through her head.
Oh, yeah. This is so fucking on.