Chapter 25
. . .
Silas
“If your next words are to ask whether we should go and join the girls in town, I’m going to make you consume that soda in your left hand without the use of your mouth.”
Will’s jaw pops open as he looks at me from his across unnecessarily large living room.
I’m grumpy as fuck, and it has nothing to do with my teammates and everything to do with jealousy.
I’ve never been possessive over a girl, other than when it came to the prick who made his move on Vesper the last time she went out, and I’m certain there will be another fucker ready and waiting tonight.
Fuck me, that red dress she was wearing when I gave her a ride earlier, it hugged every curve of her body. Although, the only place it should be is on my bedroom floor.
“You can’t gate-crash your fiancée’s bachelorette party,” Mason points out, coming to sit next to me as I stare blankly at the hockey game on the flat-screen TV set above the roaring fireplace.
Playing tonight would’ve been less torturous than sitting here, overanalyzing all the ways Vesper could meet the guy of her dreams tonight and run away with him by the morning.
Mason turns to me as soon as we’re along in the room. “Speaking of fiancées, you should probably just go ahead and propose yourself.” He sets his beer bottle on the coffee table in front of us and sits back on the couch.
That has to be his third, maybe even fourth, drink of the night.
Forearms resting on my knees, I twist my neck to look at him. “Are you for real?”
He just shrugs and picks up his beer, downing at least half in one pull. “She’s pregnant, right?” he asks on an exhale.
“How did you guess?” I respond, my lips curving upwards.
Mason sets a hand on my shoulder. “Because you’re the kind of guy who only grins like that when the reason behind it is seismic.”
I raise a brow at him. “Not just a pretty face, eh?”
He circles it. “You’re looking at the guy who somehow managed to get a degree at an Ivy League college.”
It strikes me that I don’t know all that much about Mason’s background, other than he’s separated and close to his mom.
“We had an appointment with the OB-GYN yesterday.”
“Holy shit, Vesper’s pregnant?!”
I close my eyes and drop my head when Will’s voice filters from behind me, followed by the squeeze of his palms on my shoulders.
He flops down on the couch next to me, and Tristan joins us on the armchair opposite us, not looking at all surprised.
“Congrats.” He pushes a hand through his hair. “It’s only a matter of time before the matrimonial handcuffs are shackled around your wrists, and life, as you once knew it, will never be the same again.”
Will rolls his eyes at me, his frustration directed at my teammate. “Fuck off, Tristan.”
Tristan snickers and resets his focus on the hockey game.
“Shall we head out and see the girls?” Will asks, fully aware of my desperation to see Vesper.
“No.”
Like a petulant teenager, he tosses his head back, blowing out a frustrated breath. “What if I promise not to mention the wedding again until the new year?”
“No.”
“February? I won’t mention it until the actual month we’re due to get married.” He tries again, hand sliding into his pocket before he starts scrolling through his phone.
I side-eye him, my mood getting worse every second. “Tempting, but no.”
“Hey, look at this.” Will nudges his elbow into my side.
He holds out his cell, and I take it from him.
“Do you know that guy talking to Vesper?”
June’s Instagram story was supposed to be a selfie of her and Drew wearing white bridal sashes, but all I can stare at is the random dark-haired dude whispering into Vesper’s ear as she stands behind them at the bar.
“No,” I bite beneath my breath, handing Will his phone back.
He pockets it, and suddenly, all three of my teammates are zeroed in on me.
Will quirks an inquisitive brow. “Would you like to get to know the random dude a little better?”
“I’m not following my girlfriend to a bar when she’s having a night out with her friends.”
Mason’s eyes bug out. “Girlfriend?”
I flop back into the couch and groan. “I just wanted to see how the title would feel on my tongue. We aren’t officially dating.”
Will checks his phone again. “Oh, right. Well, in that case, the path is clear for the random guy then.”
I’m on my feet in milliseconds. “Everyone, put your shoes on. We’re heading into town. I need a change of fucking scenery.”
Location update: We wound up in the bar opposite the cocktail lounge where the girls are, and all I’ve done for the past half hour is nurse a pint of beer between my palms and stare across the road.
“I have a pair of binoculars if you want them?”
I close my eyes and try not to laugh at Tristan’s sarcastic comment.
“Am I giving stalker vibes?”
He leans back against the bar and crosses his ankles, messy black hair falling over his forehead. “Maybe a little, Cap.”
“Want this?” I ask, sliding my warm beer toward him. “Will ordered it for me, but I don’t want it.”
Tristan screws his nose up. “Nah, thanks. If Will bought it, then it’ll probably taste sour. I don’t accept drinks bought by him.”
“Y’all both need to drop this insane rivalry,” I push out. “It’s affecting team dynamics.”
Tristan scowls across the room, where Mason and Will are seated. “Have you ever had the alternate captaincy ripped from you and handed to the guy who waltzed onto the team a season ago and pushed your nose out of joint?”
“There’s always going to be someone waiting to take your place on a team, Tris,” I say, back to staring across the street.
There’s no sign of Vesper in the cocktail bar, and I wonder if the girls left when I wasn’t watching.
“It’s how you deal with healthy competition that matters.
You’re letting it get in your head and impact your game. ”
He scoffs, pushing my glass away from him. Beer spills everywhere, earning an unimpressed glance from one of the bartenders, who immediately starts cleaning up the mess.
“Will is a cocky asshole, and he isn’t a team player. Plain and simple.”
“Come on, Tris,” I press. “I’ve seen you deal with assholes before now and never like this. Why is Will so far under your skin?”
He throws up a hand, way too animated with anger.
“I dunno, man. Maybe because he lands on his fucking feet wherever he goes, all because he has the last name Jones and Mommy and Daddy have more money than sense. Spoiled fucking rich boy,” he spits.
“His sister isn’t much better. What a brat she is. ”
“June?” I reply in disbelief. “What’s June ever done to you?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’ll assume you’ve never been interviewed for her stupid blog then?”
When a flash of red catches my attention, I lock eyes on Vesper’s back as she talks with Drew.
Okay, phew. No guys sniffing around my girl anymore.
“I heard that she’s a really gifted media reporter and an even better hockey player. Crazy skillful, like Will.”
If looks could kill, I’d be ten feet underground.
I hold up a hand. “Listen, I’ll always be honest with you. I’m not about to sugarcoat anything because you’re butthurt over her brother. From what I’ve seen, June’s a nice person.”
Tristan sneers and follows my line of vision back across the road. “Will fucked my sister and broke her heart when he was in college.”
I rear back, really not expecting Tristan to drop that bomb. “What?”
He nods once and raises his hand at the bartender who just finished wiping up after him, asking for a drink.
“Yeah. I’ve not said anything because, unlike Will, I like to keep things professional.”
I hold back a cynical laugh, wanting to keep this conversation on track.
“At the risk of coming across like a dick, you realize that event between your sister and Will was fucking years ago, right?”
He looks exasperated, and I genuinely don’t think whatever went down back in Will’s college days is the real reason behind Tristan’s issue with the alternate captain.
His place on the team is threatened by Will’s success. Period.
“All I’m saying is, I’ve witnessed a different side to the golden boy you all think is untouchable, infallible. He’s got a lot of skeletons in his closet and even got away with banging Coach’s daughter, which almost ended her career.”
“You need to drop the toxic agenda,” I warn, just as the girls step out onto the sidewalk and climb into a taxi.
Are they going home or elsewhere?
Tristan picks up the soda he ordered and motions to the girls. “Shall we wrap up this conversation so you can chase after Vesper like a puppy?”
Taking out my wallet, I toss a fifty-dollar bill onto the bar as a tip for cleaning up the beer I didn’t drink.
“When did you get so fucking bitter? This isn’t the guy who walked onto the team several seasons ago. You’ve gone from a social butterfly, wearing a constant smile, to a fucking honey badger, who’s grumpy as hell and liable to snap at any second.”
He frowns, backing up my observations.
“And you know what?” I tag on, waving a hand at Will and Mason.
Will makes his way over to me; he’s likely noticed the girls leaving too.
“I’d rather be a lovesick puppy than a bitter badger, wasting my career away on some pointless feud that doesn’t even need to exist.”