Chapter 9 Brielle #2
Tilly responds, “Yes! I have three brothers and I’m familiar with hockey, wrestling, cricket and more!” She lists each sport on her dainty fingers as Bobby leans in, eating up every word.
Then Bobby grabs her hands and states, “Will you marry me?”
I nearly spit out my water as I hear Everett make an incomprehensible sound beside me.
“You just fucking met!” Everett growls.
Bobby outstretches a hand at Tilly, presenting her like a royal heir. “A woman that appreciates sports and is a nurse. So, she is much more intelligent than any of our gents on the block, and is as gorgeous as an angel. I’m in love. Fuck you, you romantically impotent bellend.”
Everett glowers at his enthusiastic younger brother just as our food arrives at the table, ending the conversation.
Once finished with lunch, Bobby invites Tilly to embark on a ride to the hockey rink on the back of his motorcycle.
Tilly doesn’t hesitate in reaching for his hand upon leaving the booth.
As we leave for our respective modes of transportation, Bobby gives Tilly his motorcycle helmet and turns to face me.
“Bri? Will you be all right riding with him alone?” The look in his eyes is one of genuine concern. Though Bobby loves his brother, he knows what a dangerous creature he is.
Tilly’s helmet-adorned head pops up from behind Bobby’s towering side as she remarks, “Oh, she will be more than all right. Let’s go !
” She winks up at me then excitedly pulls Bobby’s attention back to the motorbike.
He looks down on her and proceeds to cup her face.
So much adoration is contained within his glance.
I think this is what the phrase “love at first sight” looks like .
“You’re so fucking cute,” he states, then gets onto the bike and waves a hand at Everett’s driver, parked behind him in the black Morris Cowley.
After admiring the adorable interactions between Bobby and Tilly, I turn to find Everett standing next to his vehicle with his hands in his pockets, staring at me. Something I’m slowly getting used to.
Though his looks are not soft or full of adoration, as Bobby’s are for Tilly.
Everett’s stare is observant, hard to read, and quite frankly I figure he’s judging my dumb arse, for I’m utterly lost in this world.
I have no idea how to have fun and flirt the way Tilly naturally does.
“Dove, if you feel uncomfortable with me, I can find another means of transportation to the rink. Just say so. I expect complete transparency from you,” he says, softening his facial features. I wonder if his brother’s question impacted him in some manner.
I move toward the vehicle.
Toward him.
Daring to step outside my comfort zone and “tap into something,” as Tilly might say.
“Strangely, I’ve never felt more comfortable with a man than I have been near you.” I look into his amber eyes, hoping he can feel how sincere I am—for being comfortable around men is a very difficult feat for me.
He cocks his observant face to the side. “Really? What about my brother Bobby? You seem very comfortable around him.”
I smile and retort, “I know he would protect me, but I do not agree with some of his questionable life choices. For example, my first time meeting him, he pissed off the Italian mafioso in London.”
Everett gives way to a small half smile. “Ah, how could I ever forget how you saved him.” He opens the motor vehicle door for me and gestures for me to enter. “As for his questionable life choices, would proposing to someone within the first hour you meet be on that list of choices?”
A giggle leaves my throat as I cover my mouth. “Yes, that would definitely count! Tilly is an amazing woman, but he should get to know her first before making such a rash decision. I can tell she loves hard and I wouldn’t want him to break her heart. ”
We begin our drive to the rink as Everett carries on conversation, but sitting in the back seat with me this time.
“I doubt he would break her heart. He chases after women, but he makes his intentions clear. That look he held was nothing I’d ever seen from him before. I think Tilly is in trouble.” Everett looks at the road ahead, wringing his hands within his lap.
A beat of silence falls over us before we both mutter something at the same moment.
“Oh, go ahead! Sorry!” I state.
He glares. “First, I told you not to use that sorry word aimlessly. Second, please continue what you were going to say.” At his last statement his eyes soften, but he continues to wring his hands within his lap.
A habit when he is irritated, I wonder.
“What is this induction? Why do you need nurses at a sports game? Do many people become injured, is it that brutal of a game?” I ask.
Everett looks at his hands and ceases his motions, biting the bottom of his lip. My eyes watch him do so carefully, somewhat entranced by the tiny gesture.
“People can become considerably hurt when playing on slick ice. We get a little rowdy and a bit unruly. As for the induction ceremony, I need you there. I need you to understand why we do the markings. For it is all a choice,” he explains.
The sun gleams through the vehicle window, hitting his amber irises in such a manner that causes them to look translucent. Ethereal.
I catch myself stammering, “Why…why do you need me to understand?” My brows furrow with confusion, for I do not completely comprehend his motives.
“You’ll see,” he answers, then turns his handsome head to gaze out the window of the motorcar.
The passing images of Lockham’s factories, shoppes, and small cityscape surround us.
As dark and grungy as the city surroundings may seem, there is a quaint and homely feeling to the small city.
Children playing on the streets, horses randomly trotting alongside the motorcars.
Decorations for the upcoming winter holiday adorning the light posts.
It’s much more homely than any other area I’ve lived.
The vehicle pulls into a park. Cricket fields lie on one side of the vast green pasture, and a football field lies on the other.
I spy a group of men flying around what seems to be a pond on the farthest edge of the park.
Everett exits the motorcar and beckons for me to exit the vehicle as well.
I spy Tilly and Bobby standing next to his motorbike, laughing with each other.
Tilly pats him on the chest, grinning ear to ear as Bobby waggles his eyebrows at her.
The gesture causes me to giggle and I pull my hand over my mouth.
“Don’t do that.” Everett’s stoic face comes into view as he gently lowers my hand. “Don’t hide your smile. It makes things brighter in this dark world.”
Heat rising to my cheeks from his bold words, I stare up at him, contemplating how to respond, but nothing comes to mind. I have never received attention from a man like this.
“Adder got your tongue, dove?” A smooth smile etches the corners of his mouth.
Before I can make a retort, a manly voice calls from the pond, “For fuck’s sake, are you wankers coming to play or are you going to sit there fawning over some birds?”
I peer over to find one of the brothers—I believe Kenneth—with his arms crossed, glasses perched on the end of his nose and a long stick in one hand.
“Kenneth! I think you got your hockey stick stuck up yer arse again, brotha!” Bobby calls to him, towing Tilly by the hand toward the frozen pond.
Well, that was fast , I think to myself as I continue glancing at Bobby’s and Tilly’s locked hands. Everett and I follow them to the makeshift rink.
Some men are atop the ice, sliding and skating back and forth. Other members of the Adders sit on the side of the pond with large bags full of clothing and tall slanted sticks in their hands.
“What is this?” I ask out loud.
“Hockey,” Everett answers.
“You’ve nevah seen hockey!?” Bobby turns back, having heard my question. I shake my head no.
“My brothers used to play this!” Tilly states. “When we were kids I’d watch them go back and forth, beating the ever-living crap out of one another. Much more entertaining than football.”
“We began playing hockey during the war. It brought our troops together and boosted morale,” Bobby explains as he sat his bag next to a bench and begins taking his winter coat off.
Everett sits beside him, placing large pads on his knees, occasionally peering up to look at me as I try to glance away—though I fail to appear subtle in my observations.
“Let’s go, slowpokes. We’ve been waiting on you for nearly half an hour!” Kenneth skates to the side of the frozen ice closest to Everett and Bobby. His scornful features gaze upon myself and Tilly, and he asks, “What are they doing here?” He appears less than enthused with our presence.
“Nurses,” Everett exclaims as he laces up his black, white and yellow skating shoes.
Kenneth places a hand on either hip. “Why would we need nurses here?” he asks in an irritated fashion as the other men begin to approach us.
“Probably because we needed stitches the last time we played!” a gentleman with white-blond hair states, presumably another Afton brother.
He has stark features and golden eyes like Everett.
“The name’s Gregory, how do ya do, miss?
” Gregory extends one hand out, but before I can reach to return the welcoming gesture, Everett places his hand atop Gregory’s, lowering it back to his side.
“Don’t touch her,” Everett bluntly orders.
My eyes widen as my hands clasp together.
“Seriously, brother?” Gregory’s eyes lower in an unamused stare.
“Very,” Everett states as he continues placing cushioned white pads on his elbows.
Then he reaches inside his duffel bag to obtain what appears to be a green-and-gray wool scarf.
Everett drapes the scarf around my neck.
“It’s cold out here. If you need more warmth, grab my coat.
” He then points to his tweed coat atop his duffel bag, then sets off onto the ice with the other gentlemen.