Chapter 51 Cole
COLE
“Cars are here,” Parker says as she tucks her cell back into her purse.
I turn to look at Freya and watch as she swallows nervously.
She’s terrified about what’s to come. But as scared as she might be, she’s not letting it stop her. She’s embracing the fear. I just hope that continues and we manage to get into the club without it getting too much for her.
I get more glimpses into her previous relationship with every passing day, and I now have a pretty good picture of what it looked like. But I’m missing some very vital pieces of information, like the name of the man who treated her like shit for far too long.
All I can hope is that I never have to meet the asshole. While I might not be the one getting into fights on the ice these days, that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to take a piece of shit like him down.
Anger burns through me as I think about the effect he’s had on my girl. She’s coming out the other side, but I fucking hate that she’s probably going to live with some of the side effects of that toxic relationship for the rest of her life.
“Are you ready to head out?” I ask her, reaching over and squeezing her thigh in support.
“I need to go for another nervous pee,” she confesses quietly.
“Then let’s go.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—” Her words are cut off when I push my chair back and stand, holding my hand out for her.
Silently, I lead her toward the restrooms and wait outside while she does her thing.
“Is Freya okay?” Monroe asks when he emerges from the bathroom. My fondness for our rookie grows.
“Yeah, she’s just a little nervous.”
“I get that. It’s a lot. Especially if you’re not used to it. We’ve got her back,” he states.
“Thanks, man. Really appreciate that. I know Freya does too.”
“Family has to stick together, right?” he says so innocently. But then I guess he has no reason to know that the words hit me like a freight train.
Family.
“Yeah, right,” I agree.
Monroe narrows his eyes at me, and I fear he’s about to ask about my reaction, when Freya thankfully reappears.
“Ready?” I ask, slipping my arm around her waist to guide her out.
“As I’ll ever be,” she says weakly.
“It’ll be okay, Chef,” Monroe says over his shoulder. “You have any problems with anyone, you just send them to me.”
I snort a laugh. If someone starts something, Hayden Monroe would be the last person I send to deal with it. Rett, Killer, or Linc, yes. Our puppy dog rookie? Not so much. He may be a D man, but he isn’t fueled by anger and the need to hurt our opponents in the way Rett and Killer are.
“Thank you, Hayden. I’ll remember that,” Freya says politely as she lightly smacks me in the stomach for laughing at his offer of support.
A few sets of eyes follow us as we make our way through the restaurant. Our table was hidden at the very back, so those at the front were probably completely unaware that we were here. Even those who don’t immediately recognize us look up, sensing that something is happening.
Freya snuggles into my side as if she’ll disappear as we follow Monroe outside to where all the others are waiting.
“Oh shit,” he gasps, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “When Parker said cars, I thought she meant cars, not this.”
He bounds forward, allowing us to see the stretched limo that’s waiting for us.
“Who the hell ordered us this?” I balk. The driver climbs out and walks around to the back door, pulling it open.
Monroe takes a step forward at the same time someone climbs out, and the two of them almost collide.
“What the fu—Hailee?” Monroe cries.
“Uh…hi,” she says, looking up at him like he’s lost his mind. “What do you think?” she asks, gesturing to the vehicle behind her.
I’m pretty sure she’s asking us all, but it’s Monroe who jumps in.
“It’s incredible,” he gushes, gazing down at her as if she just hung the moon, instead of flexing the organization’s credit card. “Did you book this just for us?”
“I thought it would look better than you lot turning up in a bunch of Ubers,” Hailee explains. “The others all have transport, too. Don’t take it personally.”
Monroe deflates a little, but the second he gets his first look inside, his excitement returns. “Can I go look? I’ve never been inside a limo before.”
“Eat your heart out,” she says, but it’s too late; Monroe has already disappeared inside.
“Right, so are the rest of you ready to get this show on the road?”
There’s a round of agreement, some more enthusiastic than others.
“You good? She might not notice if we bail,” I say as Freya and I stand back, allowing the others to climb inside first.
“I’m good. I’m going to have to do something like this eventually. Might as well get it over with.”
“What’s the worst that can happen?” I ask.
“It’s just the media and the stories they spin. I don’t need any of it in my life. And more than that, I don’t need anyone bringing up the past and making speculations.”
“Maybe they won’t,” I offer, knowing it’s completely unhelpful.
“Yeah, maybe,” she muses as I press my palm against her bare lower back and watch in awe as she manages to even make climbing into a limo look glamorous.
“We’ve even got champagne,” Monroe announces as soon as we’re inside, handing us both a glass once we’ve found seats.
Everyone watches him fondly as he experiences something new while we sip on our drinks.
The volume of the conversation gets louder and louder as we approach our destination, and just before we pull up, we get a speech from Hailee about what she’s expecting from tonight and how we should and shouldn’t behave, as if we’re in elementary school.
“We’ve got it,” Kodie grumbles. “Smile for the cameras and don’t be assholes.”
“Have the others had these same instructions?” Linc asks suspiciously. We’re only a small part of the team, and almost everyone has agreed to turn up to this thing tonight. “I have caught up with everyone attending, yes,” Hailee explains.
Linc rolls his eyes, understanding her unspoken words. We’re the ones she’s worried about.
“And Rett,” she adds, turning her full attention on our new D man.
Ah, now it makes sense. I smother a laugh as Rett looks at Hailee with innocent, fluttering eyelashes.
“Yes, Hailee?” he asks, his voice higher pitched than usual.
“Jesus Christ,” Parker grumbles, shaking her head at her big brother.
“If there is a single story about you screwing bunnies in the bathroom, in a closet, on the stairs to the VIP area, or even a whiff of a late-night orgy afterparty, I will be coming for you tomorrow and cutting it off. Do you hear me?”
Rett leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring Hailee down.
I swear, the rest of us hold our breath, waiting to hear what he’s got to say.
“Sweetheart, you can come for me anytime you like,” he teases, giving her a wink.
Hailee sucks in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring and her face turning red.
“You’re impossible,” she finally huffs.
“Meh,” Rett says, resting back in his seat and spreading his thighs wide despite the tight space we’re all cooped up in. “Just think how boring your job would be without me.”
Hailee mutters something that I miss, but it makes those around her chuckle, before she unlocks her cell and begins tapping away, doing her best to ignore Rett.
As we turn the corner, the lights from the club are almost impossible to miss, as is the line that wraps around the building.
I guess it helps that this place is owned by a couple of LA’s football players.
I don’t doubt that they’ll be here tonight, and that their fans will want a piece of them.
And us. It’s been well publicized that this place is going to be teeming with professional athletes tonight.
Football, hockey, baseball, basketball. We’re all in attendance.
“Are you all ready?” Hailee asks.
Beside me, Freya trembles. I reach for her hand and entwine our fingers, and lean closer so I can whisper in her ear while Hailee attempts to give us all—Rett—more reminders about how to behave tonight.
As per Hailee’s instructions, Linc and Parker go first, followed by Casey and Kodie. The moment the door is open, the noise from outside floods in. People are screaming and cheering.
I look at Freya and find her sitting with her head lowered and her eyes closed.
My heart slams against my chest.
I can’t make her do this. I can’t—
“Cole, Freya, you guys are up next.”
Freya’s head lifts, and she blinks a couple of times.
I watch her in awe as she pulls some kind of mask of confidence on and nods.
“Just remember, Freya, it’ll be over in a flash, and then you can enjoy the rest of your night in peace in the VIP area,” Hailee says, clocking Freya’s apprehension.
Freya looks at Hailee, and an understanding passes between them.
Whatever Freya is keeping from me, Hailee knows.
I can’t say I’m surprised. As our PR director, she makes it her business to know everything. With Freya working for me and our relationship growing, I guess she decided to dive into her life to learn just who Freya Price is.
I briefly wonder if I should have done the same. But I quickly shoot it down.
When she’s ready, she’ll tell me.
Freya rolls her shoulders back and shuffles forward.
“You’ve got this, Whirlwind,” I tell her, hoping like hell it helps, even just a tiny bit.
I climb out first to the bright flash of cameras before holding my hand out for my girl. She might be feeling all kinds of anxious right now, but as she slides her palm against mine and steps out of the limo, the only thing I feel is pride.
As the cameras flash, capturing us out together as a couple for the first time, all I can think about is how fucking lucky I am.
Fans and photographers both shout things at us, but I can barely make out the words as together, we turn this way and that, smiling until our cheeks are sore.
With my arm locked around Freya, I quickly sign a couple of autographs for some fans who’ve managed to get to the front. We’re almost at the club entrance when a huge scream erupts from the crowd.
The high-pitched, all-female noise gives me a clue as to what’s just happened behind me. And when I look back, I discover I’m right.
Hailee has unleashed the single men of our group, and it’s sent the bunnies into a frenzy.
“Wow,” Freya breathes, forgetting about being under the spotlight as she watches Rett, Killer, and Monroe work the crowd of hungry women.
Rett and Killer are naturals, flirting their asses off and getting all manner of things thrust at them. Monroe is a little more subdued—shell-shocked might be a better term.
Ripping my gaze away from my horny teammates, I focus on my girl instead.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Yep. The worst is over now. I could really use a cocktail, though.”
I chuckle as I lead her deeper into the club, locate the stairs that’ll take us up to the VIP area, and follow our friends away from the chaos that this level is about to turn into.