17
AURORA
“Are you sure about this?” My gaze traces over the burly bouncer outside the noisy sports bar. “The place is packed.”
The post-game crowd is loud enough to be heard from the street. Not my usual scene. I’m more of a stay-at-home-and-read type of girl.
Ethan takes my hand and helps me out of the Uber. He dips his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’m feeding you then fucking you in that jersey. We won’t stay long.”
The bouncer acknowledges us with a nod as we enter. The place is surprisingly spacious. Booths line the brick walls, and TVs hang on every available surface. Pool tables are on one side and a dance floor occupies the other, the room filled with people and pulsating music.
He wraps a protective arm around me, and we head toward a roped-off section in the back, where the crowd and noise diminish. He guides me in front of him, and another bouncer grants us entry. We step into the VIP area, and I stiffen. At the bar, Trent stands among a sizable group of guys.
My date said it wasn’t necessary to dress up. I’m in his gently altered jersey, leggings, a leather jacket, and white Converse, my hair in loose waves. He’s in jeans and a black button-up. He conveniently failed to mention we were meeting people.
Trent and Ethan greet each other with that handshake-half-hug-clap-on-the-back thing guys do.
“Aurora, nice to see you again.” Trent places a hand over his heart. “Sincerely, I apologize for earlier. That was all my fault. I misunderstood the assignment.”
“Is that why we’re here?” I place my hands on my hips. “So you can grovel for Ethan?” I tease, and they both chuckle.
I don’t blame Ethan for his ex’s behavior.
It stings that she gets to keep his last name, but I honestly can’t blame her either.
I’d be pissed too if he got someone else pregnant—although I believe I appreciate him more than she ever did.
Still, that doesn’t mean I enjoy being on the receiving end of her wrath.
A newcomer clasps Ethan’s shoulder. “Holy shit, you’ve been busy.” Tall and built, he must be an athlete. His gaze is fixed on my rounded stomach, but his tone is lighthearted. He’s not judging, just stating the obvious.
“Yeah. Yeah,” Ethan deadpans. “Scully, this is my girlfriend, Aurora.”
Girlfriend. Wow. Has that ever happened in public, if ever?
Scully offers a quick handshake. “We’ve all been warned to be on our best behavior or risk being banned.”
“Trent owns the bar and restaurant upstairs,” my boyfriend explains. “He wanted to make up for tonight.”
With his arm around my waist and his hand splayed over my stomach, he introduces everyone. I try to remember all their names, but it’s impossible. Half the team must be here.
The bartender hands him a beer and offers me a mocktail, but I decline. Ethan takes a swig from the glass bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and it’s so freaking hot.
He grins and cracks up as they delve into the game, hazing one another. They’re familiar, reminding me he lived here only a handful of months ago. He was with this team for six years. That’s wild to think about. It feels like we’ve been together for years, not months.
I realize, not for the first time, that I have no clue what he’s into—outside of hockey and sex. Maybe going out is something he needs to unwind. We don’t go anywhere. Jax doesn’t drink, which eliminates bars and most other places. Maybe Ethan misses hanging out with the guys.
A pang of insecurity hits me as I watch him. He’s ruggedly handsome, even when brooding, but he’s a dream when happy. His gray eyes sparkle with mirth, and his smile lights up his entire face.Let’s not forget about those dimples that rarely make an appearance.
Feeling my gaze on him, he glances down. His lip twitches in response to my staring and leans in for a kiss, whispering, “I love you.”
His fingers grasp my chin, his beard tickles my lips, and he tastes like the citrusy beer he’s drinking. It’s different and electrifying, and a shiver runs down my spine. He’s different—possessive as usual, but with a touch of tenderness and intimacy.
“Shit, man. I can’t recall ever seeing you kiss someone.”
Trent’s voice disrupts the moment, and a fiery sensation spreads across my cheeks.
“No joke, Aurora,” says a player—Larsen, perhaps. “You need to tell us how Coach nailed a baddie.”
Ethan scoffs and takes another swig of his beer. He doesn’t seem bothered by the question, but my heart rate speeds up and my stomach plummets.
I swallow my nerves. “Ah…we met at a charity event in LA over the summer.” That’s vague enough, right?
Trent and Ethan exchange a glance. Given the group’s uncomfortable silence, I’m guessing that was the wrong answer.
The air freezes in my lungs. Was he married all summer? When did he announce his resignation from Boston? When did he move to LA? August? Thinking is currently beyond my capabilities.
He hugs me tighter and gives a sly smirk. “I got her pregnant; she’s stuck with me.”
The guys burst into laughter, and I can’t help but join in, a sense of relief washing over me.
Trent shakes his head. “A terrible predicament you got yourself in, man.”
Ethan’s eyes connect with mine. “Truly awful.”