16. Chapter 13
Jax
“The boys are in the back.” Ruby smiles from the bar. She’s the owner, and while I don’t know her well, Rikki loves her something fierce.
He comes here almost every day, and recently has started doing things around her house to help her out, as maintenance gets harder as she ages. For being pretty fresh out of college, he’s a really responsible kid.
“Thanks,” I say back to her, turning to Sloan.
“Do you and Ali want to come hang out with us?”
“No, I promised her we’d have a girls’ night.” She smiles, and it makes my stomach jump.
Her smile is intoxicating. Every time she smiles, the corner of her mouth lifts just slightly before her lips soften, making her face feel warmer—lighter.
But it’s really the way it sits in her eyes that gets me.
There’s a quiet glow, like her happiness is settled deep inside rather than bursting out.
Everything she says, she says with confidence and authority. I admire her. I hope she knows it.
I walk to the back and join the guys in our usual spot on the patio. As soon as I walk in that direction, the ocean breeze hits me. The smell of the salt water mixed with food is one of my favorite scents.
“We got some food and a bucket of beer,” Ozzie says, leaning in to grab a crab cake.
“No bottle service this time?” I cringe, trying to suck the words back in as fast as they come out. Ruby hasn’t offered bottle service since Mare moved, and I know even the slightest mention of her makes him break a little more.
I opt for stuffing a crab cake in my mouth instead of apologizing. That would only make it worse.
I look around the bar trying to find Sloan and Ali, but can’t see them from here, so I pull out my phone and send her a text.
Me: Come say bye before you leave.
Sloan: What makes you think we will leave first?
Me: Is that a challenge?
Sloan: Is now.
Just then I see her and Ali move to the corner of the bar, plates of food in hand.
She looks at me from across the room and pops a fry into her mouth with a dare in her eyes.
I return her gaze with a bite of my crab cake.
Instantly we engage in a silent competition across the crowded room, only she’s already won.
I might still be sitting here, but I’m already so far gone it’s not even funny.
She’s facing our direction, and I can’t help but look in her direction every so often just to get a glimpse of her.
The two of them are laughing. They haven’t stopped. It makes me smile.
“Why don’t you invite them over?” Rikki asks, noticing that I can’t take my eyes off her.
“I did. They’re having a girls’ night,” I say without ever allowing my eyes to leave her.
“Well, you’re having a guys’ night. How ’bout you let her be and get drunk with us?”
He hands me a shot and we down it… and several more.
He’s right. I’m with the guys, and that’s where I stay, attention and all, while we continue to joke, drink, and talk shit to each other until we’ve all had enough and stumble to the door.
Sloan laughs as we walk past. “Quitter. Looks like I won, hotshot.”
I tip my baseball hat in her direction and blow her a kiss.
She blows one right back, and it smacks me in the chest.
I know I’m drunk, but it’s not the alcohol that has my stomach in knots as I lay in bed.
It’s the fact that she’s right. I’m now a good 15 videos in as I search social media for our interview, and she’s not in one of them. Other than the original on BKC’s official page.
Video after video has been cropped, edited, or manipulated in some way so that I’m the only one on the screen. Every so often I catch a glimpse of her hair, her elbow, or her hand.
I hate how much space I take up.
She’s incredible, and I just want the world to see it.
My condition only worsens when I scroll to a video on another podcast channel. It’s a clip from the middle of the show, and they’re talking about her career.
A picture of her is in the corner of the screen. It’s beautiful. She’s in her Moonshines uniform, helmet under her arm, walking off the field. She looks fierce, rough around the edges. So Sloan.
“It’s a shame she got injured. She was a hell of a kicker,” one guy says.
“Yeah, she had the best stats in the league. She was headed for the Hall of Fame, for sure.”
“You think so? She was still pretty early in her career,” the first guy says back.
“Hell yeah. She was accomplishing things that would take others years to achieve.”
He responds again, and it’s clear he’s jealous of her success. “Too bad that natural success didn’t follow her to BKC. She started strong, everyone wanting to see what she would do. How she’d rebound.” He takes a sip of water and smirks. “And then the ratings were falling for a bit.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t they still falling?”
He smirks again, and I want to reach through the phone and punch him. “Not after Jax Calder entered the chat. His injury is surging her career. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Moonshots take it over and replace her with players.”
I close my phone and type a text to Horner.
Me: Don’t replace Sloan for a player. She good at her job.
Send.
Shit. I reread it, and it’s clear as day that I’m drunk.
I glance at the clock in the corner of my phone and sigh.
“Looks like this conversation will be a later today problem,” I say to myself, talking, note that it’s 3:42 am.
“Actually, not a today problem. No game today. Day off,” I say as sleep starts to pull me under.
Sweeping long hair, pouty lips, and eyes that stare back like a dare fill my mind as I close my eyes.