Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alexei
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Sexy Rexy Maximov.”
I narrowed my eyes at Conor Kershaw, the first person in my sightline when I walked into the Empty Net.
“I don’t know who that is.”
“Your Rebels fan fiction choppelg?nger.” Conor grinned. “You need a drink?”
“Sure.” I scanned the crowd, and my gaze landed on Hatch and his girlfriend, Summer, seated at a corner table. Not far off with her back to me was the person I was here to see. “IPA, whatever’s on tap.”
Conor sketched a salute and headed off to the bar while I moved like an invisible string pulled me toward her. She was gripping the juke box, staring at it as if doing so would convince it to play whichever tunes she commanded.
“Hello.”
Her shoulders stiffened; she didn’t turn. “Why are you here?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m not good company, Nazarov. Well, actually I am, for myself. I’m finally in a great place.” I detected a slight slur in her voice. “That moment after you realize that you’ve been wasting your time with a man who is all wrong for you. It’s extremely literbating.”
“Literbating?”
“You heard me.”
Lauren was always the cutest when she was drunk, but I wasn’t here to take advantage.
I was here to take care of her after Jason sent me a text telling me she had finally rid herself of her loser boyfriend and was drowning her sorrows in the Empty Net.
My friend would have helped her out, but he was home with Franky and Cammi, and besides, “she’s your wife. ”
His words.
Also mine.
Maya had told me she was looking for extra hours, so I asked her to come over and watch my father, then I came here as soon as I could.
Conor appeared with a pint of IPA and passed it to me. “You need a drink, Lo?”
“No, she doesn’t.”
Lauren stared at me, then moved forward poking a finger in the well of my shoulder. “Don’t tell me what I do and don’t need.”
“You can share mine, zhena.”
“Don’t like IPA. Tastes like fermented cat piss.”
“She’s not wrong.” A grinning Conor sipped his Sam Adams what-the-fuck-ever. “What does ‘zhena’ mean?”
I ignored him. “Perhaps water or coffee?”
“Blow jobs!” She raised a fist in the air. “I will celebrate my freedom with blow jobs.”
“What?”
“Cool your jets, Molly,” Conor said. “It’s amaretto, Irish liqueur shit, and whipped cream.”
“Yep, a fucking blow job!” Lauren pushed my chest, making my beer slosh over the sides of the glass. “Remember I used to drink you under the table, Nazarov? You were such a lightweight.”
Conor winced on my behalf. I was not a lightweight, but I usually gave up early so the girl I liked wouldn’t suffer alcohol poisoning in her bid to out-drink me.
“Yes, just like you beat me in arm wrestling.” I tried to freeze out Conor with a glacial glance. “You can leave now.”
“I dunno. Looks like things are just getting interesting here.”
Lauren grabbed Conor by the collar. “Tell me, Connie. Did he ask you to invest in anything?”
Conor shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve spoken more than ten words to him. If that guy was a song, he’d be ‘All Star’ by what’s their name.”
“Smashmouth,” she said morosely.
“Yeah. He’s got weird frat bro energy.”
“Now you tell me!”
I uncurled Lauren’s fist from Conor’s person and addressed him directly, “Your services are no longer required.”
“Sure, Molly. I’ll keep an eye on you from over there.”
He cared for her, that much was clear. Lauren had grown up with the Rebels and their children, so she was well-rooted in this community. Well, I cared, too. I had to protect her reputation and ensure she was not the target of ridicule or gossip.
A husband in the shadows was not an enviable position.
Conor walked away while Lauren leaned—or rather, slouched—against the juke box.
“How are you here?”
“News of your heartbreak has reached my end of town.”
“Small town shit stirrers.”
“He did not make you happy, Lauren. You are hurting now, but soon you will realize that this is for the best.”
Her brow knitted furiously. “I don’t need you to tell me that. But I also want to grieve the relationship, the time I spent because it wasn’t all terrible. For a while I felt like a woman who could actually attract a normal man.”
What was this nonsense? Lauren was the whole package: beautiful, strong, quick-witted and foul-mouthed. Any man would be blessed to have her in his life.
Had I contributed to this self-defeating talk in some way? Perhaps my rejection of her all those years ago had insinuated itself into her psyche. I did it for her own good, though she would not appreciate that take.
Which was why I could never tell her.
Then there was Las Vegas. Perhaps she thought she could only get a husband if he was an asshole like Thad or inebriated like me. If only she knew …
“Why would you want normal, Lauren? Are you not worthy of better?”
She stared at me hard, her hazy gaze coming into focus. “Oh, is that supposed to be you? You’re the last person to be giving pep talks.”
Perhaps. But I wanted to be the one who supported her in every way, all the same.
“I can take you home.”
“No chance. I see blow jobs in my future—and you’re not invited.”
Forty-seven minutes later, I was itching to leave but my mission was to be at Lauren’s side.
The rest of her crew were rightly suspicious of my presence, which was good because they should be looking out for their friend, but not so good because she was my wife and I was best qualified to take care of her.
Rosie had arrived to meet up with Summer, who used to be her roommate.
I didn’t know her, but I knew her dads, Cade Burnett and Dante Moretti.
Her biological mother was Violet Vasquez-St. James, one of the Chase sisters, co-owners of the Rebels, and Rosie looked just like her, with her dark green eyes and colorful arm sleeve of tattoos.
The Chase sisters were a maverick bunch, and it showed in the team’s spawn.
None of them were afraid to front an opinion or give me the evil eye whenever I so much as looked in Lauren’s direction.
Rosie was assessing me now, with no deference whatsoever to my fame, fortune, or seniority. “So, you know Lauren how?”
Conor chuckled. “Eh, she can probably take care of herself, Rosita.”
“Did I ask you?”
“No, but I offered anyway because I’ve been witnessing this dynamic long before you got here.”
Rosie waved him off. “Hence my question about the breadth and depth of this friendship.”
“We went to college together,” Lauren said, having switched to a glass of water after knocking back the blow job shot. A tiny dot of cream sat at the corner of her mouth, one I longed to lick. “In fact, the first time I met him, he was having sex one wall over from my bedroom.”
“Really?” Summer viewed me with renewed interest.
“I did not know it was her bedroom. Jason had given me a place to stay because my apartment was not ready.”
“You lived with Uncle J, Lo?” Hatch popped a peanut in his mouth.
“Yes, we were roomies for our final year at Michigan.” She thumbed my direction. “This guy decided to introduce himself with a wallbanger. And I don’t mean the cocktail.”
“I had not met you yet, but I had seen you in practice. I could already tell that you were unlike any other girl.”
Color flushed her cheeks. The moment bulged with tension, weird enough to evoke a silence.
Hatch broke it. “Dad used to take us to all the Athenas games.” He nudged Summer. “No one played like her.”
“I wish I could have seen her live,” his girlfriend said. “I have to make do with the internet.”
Rosie grinned. “Total GOAT.”
Lauren smiled, a little wistfully. “When I was a kid, I vowed I’d only play if I could get on a men’s team. Of course, reality set in, but I still think I could have held my own.”
“You probably could have taken Conor down pretty easily.” Rosie shot a sly look at the youngest Kershaw. “He’s notoriously distractible.”
He glared at her for a moment. “I’ve no doubt Lauren could kick my ass on the ice. Guess you’d have to use her as your proxy, Rosie. That’s the closest you’ll get to taking me down.”
Hatch rolled his eyes, then turned back to me. “So Jason sent you when I mentioned Lauren was here?”
“I did not need to be sent. She only has to say my name, and I will be here for her.”
That got everyone’s attention. Lauren’s cheeks flushed again, the prettiest watercolor bloom. She stood quickly, swaying a little. “Okay, I’m out.”
Hatch, Conor, and I all stood in response.
Lauren held up both hands. “Thanks, guys, but I’ve got it from here. The Russian will see me home, seeing as he’s so desperate to play bodyguard.”
“Are you sure?” Summer eyed me with concern. “We don’t mind dropping you off.”
“No, stay and enjoy your night out. Thanks for letting me crash it for a while.” She pointed at Rosie and Conor. “There’s something going on with you two, and I’ll be all over it at a later point in time.”
I picked up Lauren’s purse and jacket. She gestured to me. “Two steps behind, Ass-arov.”
I bore the weight of pointed looks from the crowd. I tried to convey safety and security with my expression, though it probably came out as “fuck you, guys.”
No matter. Inside I was smiling because I was where I was meant to be.