Chapter 15
Aisling
Present day
In the absence of Fallon, my best friend in the entire world, Winter and I have spent the past two hours bonding in the bar – sending Fallon cute selfies and excitedly squealing over every country song on the jukebox. Her hockey player boyfriend and high school sweetheart, Caden, is currently sat at the edge of his team’s booth, watching her every move.
She slips a coin into the machine and then gives me the happiest smile that I’ve ever seen as the first chords of another Morgan Wallen song twang from the jukebox.
An uncontrollable giggle bubbles out of me as we run back to the dance floor, her poufy gingham dress bouncing flirtily around her thighs.
I watch as her boyfriend presses a dark bottle to his mouth, draining the last of his drink before purposefully rising to his feet.
“Your boyfriend is, like, way intense,” I giggle, my eyes going extra wide to emphasise my point.
Winter bites into her lower lip as she looks at him over her shoulder, and then turns back to face me, cheeks dimpling in delight.
“He’s perfect,” she sighs, a happy squeal leaving her throat the second that his giant tattooed forearms leash around her neck from behind. In the cutest, most possessive display of ownership that I’ve ever seen he slides his hand up her throat as he gently kisses her forehead, before hunching lower and sinking his teeth into her neck.
Winter’s eyelashes flutter until Caden turns his bite into a nuzzle, burying his face under her soft pink hair, giant shoulders swelling with every inhale.
Smiling at me with a tinge of shyness on her cheeks, Winter drops her eyes for a moment so that she can stroke her fingers up her boyfriend’s forearms. He lifts his head only so that he can murmur a secret into her ear.
She tries to shove him away as she giggles uncontrollably but he keeps her in place with his hands, purposefully scraping her up with his stubble.
“Caden!” she laughs, cheeks pink as he kisses her skin. “We need, like, ten more minutes! Twenty tops.” She slides her sparkly eyes over to mine, grins, and says, “Maybe thirty! We’re doing as much as we can on Aisling’s bucket list.”
Winter says the words bucket list really slowly as if it’s something super important, which makes me place a hand over my heart and do a little “aw!”
She gives my hand a happy squeeze and presses a chaste kiss to Caden’s cheek.
He inhales deeply, one hand lifting so that he can gently stroke the fine chain around her neck, disappearing under her dress, and then he nods his head, wrapping his arm protectively around her shoulders.
“Are you… doing the list too?” he asks her quietly.
“I mean, why not?!” she says, with her trademark sunshine giggle.
He nods again, clutching her tighter. “So, um… what’re y’all gonna do?”
“Well, the first thing was to dance in a dive bar,” Winter says, releasing an exhilarated squeak when Caden grips her hips and spins her around. “And we still need to tick off ‘make out with a hot guy’–”
Caden’s mouth crashes down on Winter’s, kissing every thought out of her head. She makes a happy surprised yelp that’s quickly swallowed up by her boyfriend, and her delicate hands flutter up to hold onto his broad shoulders.
When he pulls back to stare down at her, stars are sparkling in her eyes.
“O-okay,” she whispers, wobbling against him.
He clutches her tighter and rumbles, “Done. Next.”
“Um.” Winter looks over to me, blinking quickly as she tries to remember the other thing on tonight’s agenda, something that we had excitedly texted Fallon about and received fifteen screaming voice-notes as a result of.
I send Winter a girl-to-girl telepathic brainwave and she does a little oooh when she finally remembers.
She glances up at her boyfriend’s gruff expression, a little smile on her lips.
“Winter.” His tone is a gentle warning.
“Well,” she laughs, rolling her eyes playfully, “the last thing on Ash’s list tonight is… that.”
Winter gestures behind us and Caden glances over his girlfriend’s shoulder, brow furrowed as he tries to locate what she’s pointing at.
Not seeing it, he looks back down at her, a question in his eyes.
“Pole adventures!” she exclaims, before throwing me an adoring look. “Aisling’s a competitive cheerleader and she’s going to do amazing .”
I give her a teary smile. “Thank you.”
Caden eyes the pole with a murderous expression and then looks back down at his girlfriend, pulling her closer to his chest. His voice is deep and gravelly. “You’re… you’re not gonna… I mean, you’re not–?”
“You have to be twenty-one to get up there, so” – she shrugs and gives him a little shake of her head – “probably no.”
Caden releases a low pained groan as he drops his head back to her neck, murmuring an endless stream of rasping thank God, thank God’ s as he pushes her body up against his chest.
I give Winter a playful roll of my eyes, and decide not to mention the fact that you’re supposed to be twenty-one to be here in the first place.
Without Fallon here, my cheerleader bestie, I feel a whole lot less sure about this than I was two weeks ago, when we first saw the silver pole and I instantly added it to our wild summer to-do list.
I feel a warm arm wrap around my collarbones and glance behind me to see Tristan smiling down.
“You getting up there, cowgirl?” he asks, smiling when I let out a little laugh.
I decide to swallow down my nerves and luxuriate in how comforting he feels – uncomplicated, fun, and friendly.
I also refuse to look over to the other side of the bar, where I know that my brother and his football guys are currently being chatted up by a hen party, wearing pink cowgirl hats and matching sashes.
Seeing as Tanner isn’t over here, I can take a very solid guess as to where he will definitely be instead.
This is why you don’t get attached, I remind myself, hating the idea of Tanner mixing it up with a group of bridesmaids. Attachment is the root of all longing and loss. Just take life for what it is and enjoy the moment.
I push the sting away from my heart and lean back against Tristan’s warm chest.
“Would you like me to?” I ask, giggling up at him as he squeezes my shoulders.
A low rumble spreads through his chest as he grins back at me.
“Hell yeah, I want to see you up there. You weren’t part of the squad that performed for us at the Frozen Four final, and I’ve been dying to see you do your thing.” He leans back so that he can glance down my body and, swiping his tongue over his lower lip, he asks, “You think you’ll be able to do those moves wearing this pretty pair of jeans?”
I grin up at him. “Why, you want me to take them off?”
His pupils dial out as he laughs into my hair, hands sliding down to my hips as we walk body-to-body over to the little red stage. It’s hidden enough that it’s obviously meant to be used amongst friends, without fear of other people leering, and I think that it’s pretty perfect for a night of summer fun.
Tristan clutches me tighter as Winter, Caden, and the other Carter U hockey boys join us inside the sexy red nook.
“Should we get a round?” he asks Austin, shoving one hand in his back pocket so that he can pull out some cash.
Austin pulls an amused, curious expression, eyes flickering down to mine, over to the pole, and back again.
He takes Tristan’s cash and returns thirty seconds later with a tray of whiskey shots. And in the time it’s taken Austin to return from the bar, Tristan, Hughes and Shaw have lavished me with so much undivided attention that my serotonin levels are, like, on the moon.
“You sure about this?” Austin asks, smiling in that kind, big brotherly way of his as he hands me a shot of whiskey.
“I need to have some fun ,” I tell him, my voice a little flirty, and I release a surprised laugh when he boops the apple of my cheek with his finger.
He tips back his own drink, eyes on mine the whole time, then he drops the glass on the tray and gives me an unexpected once-over.
My body shivers at the heat of his gaze and his mouth pulls into a smirk as he notices.
“Aisling,” he drawls, “are you sure that you wanna have a little fun without your big bad bodyguard?”
I give him a fake-angry pout before lifting up one of my legs and pressing the heel of my stiletto very gently into the centre of his chest. His lips lift into a full grin as he wraps his hands around my ankle, leans down to kiss the top of my foot, and nods his head in acquiescence.
“Okay, cheerleader,” he concurs, stepping into me with a naughty smile, pushing me up against Tristan and making all three of us laugh out loud. “Do your thing.”
Somehow my thighs end up hitched around Austin’s abdomen, Tristan’s hands holding me from behind as they help me climb my way up the pole.
I bite into my smile, cheeks pink with whiskey heat.
“I haven’t done this before,” I whisper to them, “so if I, like, suck at it–”
Austin shakes his head, leaning back against one of the three encasing walls that are equidistantly positioned barely three feet away from the pole. “No matter what you do up there, we’ll all be dreaming of you tonight.”
I laugh and look down at Tristan, who is still holding onto my waist, a crease of focused concentration on his brow, as if he’s worried that when he steps back I’ll fall.
Warmth swells in my chest as I realise that, in this moment, these boys – my friends – are totally head over heels for me. They would do anything for me, and they support every silly thing that I do.
The song playing through the loud speaker-system changes into a country song that Fallon’s obsessed with, and I giggle to myself, closing my eyes and allowing my body to move.
I tip my head backwards, arching my spine, and strengthen my wrists as I grip the pole, lifting my hips higher and kicking my legs into a smooth vertical point. Then I kick my right leg so that it can go from a ninety-degree lift to a full one-eighty split, and I hold the standing split position for a moment, revelling in this use of my flexibility after a full month of no cheer.
I hear a couple of low curses and peek an eye open so that I can see the guys, their jaw-on-the-floor expressions making me flash them my best star cheerleader smile.
When I glance over my shoulder to check on Tristan, he has both of his hands shoved into his hair, his eyes unblinking as he stares hungrily at my ass.
I giggle uncontrollably at his expression, recapturing his attention, and he gives me a breathless, kind of bashful smile, motivating me to show these adorable hot hockey guys exactly what I’m capable of.
“Jesus, Aisling,” Austin rasps as I do a pole-holding flip. I lift up my leg so that I can nudge his strong jaw with the sharp point of my stiletto.
A rough sound leaves his throat and he instinctively reaches for my ankle, kissing it again.
The feeling of his stubble on my smooth skin is so unexpectedly sexy that I burst into another round of whiskey giggles, dropping down from the pole and squealing as the guys wrap me up in a team hug.
But as I pull back from the huddle something catches my eyes near the entrance of the booth.
Already knowing what I’m going to see I peek over to my left, my breathing turning raspy as Tanner’s eyes meet mine.
His large forearms – even more tan in the low dive bar lighting – are folded heavily over his chest and, despite the murder glare that he flicks over to Tristan when he gives me another squeeze on the shoulder, his expression is quietly awestruck, his breathing unsteady.
Trouble , he mouths to me, a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth.
Big shot , I mouth back, and this time he full on grins – handsome creases cutting into his cheeks as he keeps his gaze locked with mine. In the next second he pushes off the wall, eyes focused as he makes his way over to me.
Heart pounding with excitement I wiggle out of the group, my eyes closing dreamily with relief when I feel Tanner’s forearm wrap around my belly.
In less than three seconds I’m hauled out of the booth, and into the main area of the crowded country bar.
“How much did you see?” I ask him breathlessly, not questioning it when I realise that we’re in the middle of the dance floor, the swollen ridges of Tanner’s chest pressed possessively into my back.
“Wasn’t watching,” he murmurs, two digits from each hand tucked tightly through the belt loops on either side of my jeans.
I blink, dazed and confused. “You weren’t watching? Then what were you–”
“Guarding the booth,” he rumbles. “Had to make sure no-one else would get to see.”
Maybe it’s the golden hum of whiskey gently warming my veins, but the idea that Tanner felt like it was his duty to guard me during my tipsy pole adventure is so romantic it makes my heart pound wildly.
I breathe out a shaky exhale and whisper, just loud enough for him to hear as his stubbled jaw brushes over the warm curve of my cheek, “I kind of thought that you would’ve gotten all grumpy and stopped me.”
I feel his smirk press into my skin.
“When the hell have I ever been grumpy?” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his drawl making butterflies flutter in my belly. Then he adds quietly, “You were… having a good time. Yeah, I wasn’t loving the sight of my teammates looking like they wanted to be all over you, but I… I liked seeing you laughing.” He swallows hard. “I’d never try and stop something that was making you happy.”
Without thinking, Tanner’s forehead drops down to my throat, a groan rumbling through his chest as he presses his body harder against mine.
My eyes almost flutter closed but then I spot Connell and his teammates, and my chest instantly tightens, remembering the hen party from earlier.
I push away from Tanner’s embrace and spin around to look into his eyes.
“We can’t do this,” I say breathlessly, swiping a hand through the air between us.
I try to put another few steps between us but Tanner grips both of his palms around my hips, yanking me into him with a hunger that I can’t resist.
“Why not?” he asks hoarsely, eyes wildly searching mine. “You know how I feel about you, and I can tell that you feel the same way about me. Why aren’t you letting us do this? Let us do this, Aisling.”
A thought crosses his mind and he pulls me tighter against his chest.
“Is it because you’re worried about what Connell will say?” he asks. “Because you don’t need to worry about that. Your brother likes me, baby. I’m pretty sure he knows that I’d fucking die for you.”
I blink rapidly up at him, overwhelmed and confused.
“If you would die for me,” I say hoarsely, “then why the hell did you spend tonight getting all flirty with a damn hen party?”
I mean, I don’t blame them for wanting to get up close with Tanner, but my own brand of feminism means that I can put my own feelings first sometimes – if other girls are flirting with the guy who I secretly like then that doesn’t mean that I have to be okay with it.
Tanner looks up at the dark ceiling, praying for strength. When his eyes drop back down to mine there’s fire in his irises.
“What in the hell are you talkin’ about, woman?”
“Don’t call me that,” I whisper, even though I secretly love it. “I saw you over there with the football guys.”
“For about five damn seconds. The moment those chicks started climbing up on our table I hauled ass as far away from them as fast as fucking possible. I saw you on the pole, got hard, and then I guarded the booth. I want you , Aisling, okay? I want to spend all of my nights with you. ”
I stare up at him in shock, blinking fast as the room sways around me.
Tanner narrows his eyes on me and then they widen, his spine shooting straight.
“Oh,” I whisper at his sudden increase in height, “now you’re like six-foot-a-billion.”
“Aisling,” he says urgently, one hand firmly cupping the back of my neck. “Aisling, are you…? No. Aisling, are you drunk ?”
I frown at his swollen pecs. “You got a problem with that?” I mumble.
“Goddammit Aisling,” he rasps, wincing when I peep up at him again. “I didn’t… I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have… hauled you up here like that if I didn’t think that you were–”
I roll my eyes so hard they almost fall out of my head. “I had, like, three shots of whiskey, Tanner. I’m a big girl. I can handle a couple of two-hundred pound hockey players.”
He blinks down at me, his big chest rubbing against mine.
“The guys… they didn’t try anything on with you, right? Before I got there?” he asks quietly, dangerously.
“So what if they did? Everything’s just temporary to you, right?”
Wow, I have really got to stop putting my heart on my sleeve like that.
Tanner shoves his tongue in his cheek, his eyes burning as they stare into mine.
“That’s what this is about?” he asks. “That’s what’s had you shit-scared for four years? Seriously?” His jaw tics angrily and then he curses, looking away. “We can’t talk about this right now. I need you to be one fucking million percent sober when we talk about this.”
I literally never want to have that conversation so I allow myself to tune everything out and bring my fingertips up to explore his beautiful broad shoulders. His muscles tense the second that I touch him but then he allows himself to relax, watching me warily from above.
I glance up at him from under my lashes and then brush my thumbs over his nipples.
“No,” he grunts, making me smile naughtily as he turns me around and begins walking us toward the bar’s exit.
I look back at him over my shoulder and his palms slide dangerously high up my ribcage. I arch an eyebrow at him and he grunts, stopping himself from reaching what he was hoping for.
“I’m taking you home,” he says, more to himself than to me, slipping his phone from his jeans so that he can text to see if Caden and Winter will be joining us.
Another thought twinkles in my mind and suddenly I’m laughing again.
What can I say? I’m a happy drunk!
“Oh yeah ,” I say, biting into my smile as I twist around in his arms. It’s so busy in here tonight what with it being a Friday, that there isn’t one inch of my body that isn’t being bumped into right now.
Tanner notices, frowns, and tugs me closer in the cage of his biceps.
“What?” he rumbles, not seeming to mind the fact that I’m plastered against him.
“Connell told me about our little swap.” I give him a sideways glance. “He said that I’m staying in your cabin tonight, because of the no-lock situation and all.”
Tanner quickly looks away. “Yeah. Means that your brother will only be a few doors down, so you’ll be safer. I’ll stay in the lake house while you’re… while you’re in my cabin.” After a moment he gruffly adds, “And you’re sleepin’ in my bed.”
“After what I caught you doing this morning?” I tease. “Are we trying for the world’s first miraculous cabin conception?”
“Jesus Christ,” he rasps, avoiding my eyes and flushing crimson.
“Yes, that is His name,” I concur, pressing one hand against my forehead as I try to maintain the calibre of my taunting, although it’s a little distracting when a six-foot-four hockey player is secreting his warmth directly into your back.
But before Tanner can react one of my stilettos is slipping in a puddle of spilled beer and Tanner’s arms become a vise, hoisting me upright against his chest.
And in the next second a crowd of cowboys barge through the front doors.
Two of them knock straight into me, their eyes as wide with surprise as mine, and I feel the heat of Tanner’s testosterone as it becomes instantly more possessive – stronger and darker.
“Well, howdy,” one of them smiles, looking at me with slightly bloodshot eyes. Then he sees the giant forearm compressed against my chest and his gaze travels over my head so that he can give Tanner an impressed nod.
I glance over my shoulder and find Tanner tipping his chin at me. “You okay?”
An accidental whiskey giggle leaves my throat. “Of course I’m okay, I’m in cowboy heaven,” I say teasingly, and something like amusement almost tugs at the corner of his mouth.
Wow, that was almost a smile. From Tanner .
The guys in front of us chuckle as we go to move past them, some of them tipping their hats because they are literally cowboys but one of the ones at the back – maybe too tipsy to have even realised the hold-up – trips over my stiletto and something drops out of his jacket pocket.
“Oh, here, let me!” I say, leaning over to pick it up while flashing him an apologetic smile. “I think that you dropped your–”
Suddenly my eyes flash down to my hand and I stumble straight back into Tanner.
I hold the heavy object out as far away from my body as possible.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” I whisper, my eyes wide and unblinking with fear. The cowboy tucks his hands into his jeans and grins like this is all perfectly normal.
I feel Tanner immediately tense behind me, arms locking me tightly against his chest. In a deadly calm voice he instructs, “Aisling, it’s okay. Just hand it over to me.”
My whole arm is tingling with adrenaline.
Am I having, like, a super country hallucination because of the three shots of whiskey?
“Is that a gun ?” I squeal as I try to work out where to definitely not put my fingers.
“Never held one of those before, huh, Sugar?” one of the cowboys burrs gruffly, a pleased curve to his handsome mouth.
I swallow hard, my hand shaking as I try to slowly angle the weapon toward the ground, away from any patrons.
“Aisling.” Tanner’s large open palm appears beside my trembling hand. “Pass it over, right now.”
“I can’t move,” I whisper, blinking back tears because I’m tipsy, emotional, and overwhelmed right now. The cowboys don’t seem to notice, but Tanner definitely does.
“It’s okay. I’ve got it now, you can let go.”
Tanner’s hands grip around the handle of the heavy black weapon and it takes me a good ten seconds before I fully pull my arm away from it, worried that any move I make might set it off.
Just another example of a pampered heiress not being right for the small town life.
I tuck my arms against my chest as Tanner quickly empties the gun and shoves it back at its owner. Then he spins me around so that he can tuck my head against his neck.
I’m disoriented and a little scared, but I’m still lucid enough to know that Tanner is pissed the hell off.
“Who in the goddamn fuck carries a loaded handgun with them for a chill night in a country dive bar?” he rumbles, his breathing unsteady as he herds us out into the warm summer night.
In less than five seconds we’re at the passenger seat of his car, and he’s opening the door with a multitude of dangerous emotions flashing over his face.
“Where are Winter and–?” I begin.
“Already left. And I’ll text the guys. Get in.”
He opens the door wider, gently shoving me down onto the seat.
My legs dangle outside of the G-wagon. He ducks down under the roof so that he can tuck them carefully inside the car.
“That was really scary,” I whisper, hands on my chest as it beats up and down, crazy fast.
Tanner stills for a second, eyes on mine as he clicks my strap into the mechanism. “You were really brave in there. That wasn’t fair to you.”
“How did you know how to–?”
Tanner pulls back and quietly shuts the door. When he heaves down into the drivers’ side he rumbles, “There’s a man with a handgun in that bar. Cowboy or no cowboy, we don’t know him, so I’m not risking keeping you here for another second. We’ll talk on the road.”
He shoves his seatbelt into the lock, eyes on fire as he kicks the car into drive.