Chapter Fifteen #3
I rub my hand over my chin and look at the bar again.
I recognize Seb’s outline through the winter-fogged window. Maybe Marlow’s, too? My stomach swells with an anxious fizz I’d been doing my hardest to keep at bay through the service, but now, here, I’m hit with the same twisting worry as months ago.
It was short notice. No one might come.
Bel takes my hand. “Orok, what’s going on?”
“The night we met,” I say in a rush. “I’d asked the team to meet me here. The lawsuit verdict had just come out, and—” I scrub at my face again, jaw gaping in unspoken words.
Bel leans closer. Doesn’t push. Just watches me until I lift my eyes and give a self-deprecating smile.
“I never felt any connection with the Chimeras,” I tell him.
“Never tried to. Never wanted to. Then I not only got traded, but got traded home, and I wanted it to be better. With the new team. I wasn’t sure it would be, after that night—no one came out.
It’s dumb. But … in other ways, they’ve been night-and-day different from the Chimeras, so I thought we could use a team break.
And with all our stress, you and I should blow off some steam.
So. I invited them out again tonight. For a party. ”
“That sounds perfect,” he says, his smile genuine. “For them and us.”
I shrug. “They might not come again. I only let them know a few hours ago, and it is the holiday season, for more than just Urzoth’s religion, so they probably all have plans to—”
Bel puts his free hand over my mouth. “Hey. Babbling is my thing.”
“You don’t babble.”
“I do so. I babble so much I should sue you for copyright infringement.”
I smile into his palm and press a kiss there.
He lowers his hand. “Should we go inside?”
Another wave of anxiety fizzles in my gut, but Bel clutches hard to my hand.
“Together,” he whispers. “You and I will have a blast regardless of who’s in there.”
The one therapy appointment I had these past few weeks because of intense rawball season scheduling, my doctor said Bel sounds like he’s doing me a lot of good, even though I’d braced myself to be reprimanded.
I explained all the obsession and protectiveness and worry, but how I’m aware of it, and that, at least, seems to be the key—to not let those things control me.
But obsession, protectiveness, worry—turns out, that’s what love is.
Seb and Thio. Marlow, Darian. Phei, in a rock formation in the corner.
Aaron and the rest of the defensive tanks.
Many people from the offensive line, too.
Some of the friends Bel’s been making on the cheerleading team.
Riprak’s even here, and another of the coaches, and—is that Roesia?
Everyone’s mingling, some getting drinks from the bar, a few already nibbling on plates of appetizers at the high-top tables.
Holy shit.
Bel and I hang our coats on a rack by the door, and I step past it, mouth agape. Bel’s tucked under my arm, and I can see his excited smile out of the corner of my eye; but I can’t stop scanning the room.
Seb is the first to race over and throw his arms around us. Thio’s at the bar, his eyes on Seb as he presumably waits for drinks, and he grins when Seb shouts, “Fuck the Chimeras!”
His call gets everyone’s attention and a chorus goes up. “Fuck the Chimeras!”
A grin cramps my face. “Hell yeah,” I say and hug Seb to me.
He pulls back. “Brilliant idea with this party—I needed to get out. Work’s been brutal.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Pretty good turnout, huh?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat when it comes out squeaky. “Yeah, awesome turnout.”
“Fuck the Chimeras!” Aaron comes over, claps my shoulder, and thrusts a chunk of rock—limestone, maybe?—at me. There’s a bow on it. “And happy Urzoth’s birthday.”
Seb’s brows shoot up over his glasses.
Bel’s eyes narrow in confusion.
I take the rock.
“I wasn’t sure what kind of holiday this was?” Aaron says to our odd looks. He scratches the side of his neck. “But I figured a gift’s always a safe bet. And limestone, cuz, like, he’s a god made of rock, yeah? That’s why Phei’s gone stone.” He thrusts his thumb at Phei’s pile in the corner.
They—wow. They did this for me?
I didn’t say this was a party for the Urzoth holiday, because it isn’t, but damn. This is thoughtful.
Bel takes the rock from me. “This is so sweet,” he coos and nudges me, and it breaks me out of my shock.
I sniff. “I—yeah. This is—it’s great. Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
A whole helluva lot, actually; Urzoth ties or not.
Seb holds his hand out to Aaron. “Sebastian Walsh. I don’t think we’ve met; did I see you at the party Orok threw here this past summer?”
The weight in his question catches me, and I bulge my eyes at him. Seb ignores me.
“Aaron Harsaf,” he says, shaking Seb’s hand. “And I probably wasn’t there. The team loves this place, but my schedule never seems to line up.”
“It was the first Thursday in August,” says Bel, his focus on making the ribbon lay flat against the rock, like he’s saying something totally innocent. But there’s weight in his tone, too, and my eyes fly from him to Seb, who inches closer to Bel like the two of them are suddenly partners in crime.
“Guys,” I try, “it’s not—”
Seb gives me a silencing look.
“Ah.” Aaron snaps his finger in connection. “That’s right—I don’t usually go out on Thursday nights.” His eyes widen and he looks at the floor in a sudden wave of dismay. “That makes me sound really boring, huh?”
“Kind of,” Seb mutters, and Bel covers for him with a nose-scrunching giggle.
“Well, going out that night worked for me at least—that was when Orok and I met.” He blinks up at me, still with that faux innocence. “You were celebrating your lawsuit win that night, right?”
Seb keeps his eyes on Aaron, analyzing him for a reaction.
I try again. “It’s really not—”
“Oh, shit.” Aaron punches my shoulder. “That’s what that night was for? Damn, I had no idea. I thought it was another pre-season team hang. I should’ve been there.”
Seb grins. “Let me guess: Orok’s invitation was just hey, come have a drink? No explanation? Yeah, sounds about right.”
“If I’d known it was for that, I really would’ve come.
That was a big victory, Monroe. I was impressed you did that.
Stood up for yourself. We all were.” He bats his hand at the room.
“You know we were hella intimidated when you got signed to us, right? Your stats, yeah, but also how you kept your composure through the lawsuit and all the press shit you got hit with. You’re, like, god-tier. ”
Damn it, I haven’t even really crossed the threshold into the bar area, and I’ve already been hit with far, far too much emotion.
Heat scalds my face at the sincerity in Aaron’s eyes. “Thanks. I—I’m really glad to be here,” is all I can muster.
Aaron grins. “Hell yeah. Let’s party. I heard tell of karaoke?”
Darian manifests like that word summoned him. “We all need to be significantly drunker before that. Harsaf, shots.” And he hooks Aaron’s arm to haul him away.
Seb wings a smug eyebrow at me. Meanwhile, Bel is not so subtle, beaming as he grabs my belt and jostles me. Neither of them says anything, just living in the fallout of Aaron’s words.
No. I will not cry at a bar. Without even having a drink yet.
I scrub the heel of my hand against my cheekbone. “Well. Shit.”
Seb smiles at the crowd and leans toward Bel. “Who’s next?”
Bel points at a rogue talking with Marlow. “Her. She’s nice; there’s no reason she shouldn’t have been there.”
Seb holds his fist out. Bel bumps it.
I grab both their wrists. “Wait—what is happening?”
They look up at me with very different, yet somehow similar, expressions. Seb’s lips pucker and his head dips to the side in a clear, unspoken isn’t it obvious? while Bel bites his lower lip to counter his grin, his eyes sparkling.
“We’re going to find out why the rest of these people stood you up,” Seb says.
“While the Hellhounds do seem like good people,” Bel adds, “we should make sure, right?”
“They—I—” I shake my head. “They are good people. It’s fine; you don’t have to—”
“Oh, yes, we do have to,” Bel interjects. “We have a mission tonight. Or, Seb and I do—I assume you don’t want to come, but I am definitely reciting all the sweet things everyone says about you.”
Seb cracks his neck. “Time to go all Protective Best Friend on these bitches.”
“Hold this for me?” Bel shoves the rock into my chest. “We’re keeping it, by the way. Think of a name.”
My brain is having an impossible time catching up, so I fumble the rock and stutter out, “A … a name?”
I look down at the rock like it might’ve metamorphosed into a puppy without my noticing.
“Yeah. People keep pet rocks.” Bel’s face pinches in horror. “You don’t think that’s actually a piece of Phei, do you?”
“I—I doubt it.”
“We can ask.” Seb juts his chin across the room. “Let’s question Phei, too.”
“I’ve been with the Hellhounds for almost a whole season.” Gods, it’s like trying to talk down a car wreck. “There’s no need to—”
“There’s every need to.” Seb pins me with an intense look, all the jokes falling away. “We’re here now, and a lot of them are here now, and I’m not letting this opportunity pass me up.”
“We’ll be back!” Bel leaps up to kiss my cheek and bounces away, Seb following with a taunting wink.
Off they go, and I stand at the entrance to the bar, apparently now a rock dad, having lost control of the evening in record time.
Stunned, I wander deeper into the room, unaware of the dopey smile on my face until my eyes lock with Roesia’s. She makes her way over, and I look down at the rock, but there’s nothing to really do with it before she stops in front of me, sipping a glass of wine.
“Mr. Monroe,” she says in greeting.
“Ms. Sombercrown.” And then, because I’m mostly a reactive husk at this point, “What are you doing here?”
I messaged a bunch of the team, but it never would’ve occurred to me to text one of the team managers to come to a bar hangout.