Chapter 33 Jordan
jordan
“What the hell is he doing here?” Kennedy grumbles through gritted teeth.
Without a second thought, I put my arm around the back of her chair, the hand in my lap balling into a fist. The fucking audacity of this guy showing his face here.
We deal with him as our pilot because we have to, but seeing him at Walt’s, at a known Riders bar?
The enforcer in me wants to pummel him into nothing more than a heap of dust on the floor.
God, if only I had this guy on the ice right now.
“And who the hell is he with?” I say to everyone and no one all at once.
As if summoned by magic, Tay appears behind us, leaning forward to almost whisper in our ears.
“That’s Mara. She’s the new production assistant for the broadcast crew. Just started a couple months back. Apparently, the former assistant Bridget got accused of selling her employee tickets online, which is a big no-no.”
I look over my shoulder as he smiles and walks away. “No wonder she looks familiar,” I mumble, a chill running down my spine at anyone who would be willing to be seen with Chadd with two d’s. “Are they together?”
“Apparently, the poor thing.” Kennedy clicks her tongue. “Why the hell is she wearing sunglasses inside? At night?”
I can’t help but snort. “I mean, if I were with Chadd McLoser, I would want to dull my senses so I couldn’t see him too.”
Kennedy chokes on her drink, slamming it down as she tries to swallow while gasping for air.
After a moment, panic sets in as her cheeks redden, patting her chest to help swallow down the gin.
Is she okay? Did I kill her with my joke?
But she regains her breath and laughs hysterically, laying her hand against my arm.
My fingers itch to cover hers. This patting my arm when she laughs thing is quickly becoming my new favorite thing in the entire world.
Apparently, she likes my jokes. I gotta tuck that little nugget into my arsenal of Things Kennedy Likes because I could listen to the sound of her laugh every day.
“Oh my God! I would gouge my eyes out if I had to look at Chadd McDouchenozzle more than I have to. Sitting with him on a flight for hours at a time is a struggle.” She fakes a full-body shiver as Chadd tries to take his date’s sunglasses off, and she swats his hand away, sending both of us laughing at the sight of the two of them.
That’s when he clocks us, his eyes glassy but focused. I suck my teeth. I’m guessing drunk Chadd is not going to be happy seeing us here. Without saying anything to Mara, he glares and heads our way. Man…I hate being right.
“Is that our other pilot?” EJ asks down the table. My heart soars; everyone loves and knows Kennedy by name, while he’s nothing more than the ‘other pilot.’ Serves him right for being a giant dick.
“Looks like it. What the hell is he doing here?” Larsy asks, the whole table quieting as he stumbles toward us.
“Kennedy,” Chadd singsongs with a goddamn smirk on his face. “I see you are still trying to cradle rob your way to the top.”
I grit my teeth wishing I could stick, gloves, shirt this guy and beat the shit out of him with only a five-minute penalty.
I take a deep breath, calming the fighter in me, reminding myself that my off-ice personality is always supposed to be smiling and friendly, even if my smile is psychotic.
I slowly stand to face him. God, do I want to punch his smug little face.
But I keep my cool, like I always do, and chirp him like an opponent.
“Chadd McDoubleD! I see you’ve finally found someone to get your dick wet with. Was it hard to find one who doesn’t mind it being the size of a baby carrot?” Several of my teammates snicker, their wives just as pleased knowing how badly he’s treated my girlfriend. Fake or not, she’s mine to defend.
“Wow. Real mature, Boucher.” He takes a step toward me. “I guess when someone gold digs for money, they don’t exactly get the cream of the crop, do they?” he taunts as he pokes me in the chest.
As if we planned it, my entire team stands up from the table, like we’re reenacting a scene from a movie where someone pisses off the main character and the whole bar backs them up. I don’t bother hiding the smirk twisting my cheeks. God, I love these guys.
“You need to stop talking,” Vladi growls, and fuck if that isn’t scary.
“This is a Riders bar,” Larsy pipes up. “You don’t get to come in here and insult Kennedy, Bougie, or anyone else. This is our home.”
“This is a public place. You don’t own this bar,” Chadd squawks, puffing his chest while his date is still over at the bar ordering drinks.
“No. They don’t,” Walt booms, walking over to our table. “But I do. And from what I heard you say to Jordan and Kenni, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. We don’t tolerate that kind of talk here.”
Damn, Walt. You go, Glen Coco. I fight back the mist in my eyes between him and my teammates coming to our defense. Hold it together, Jordan. Don’t cry in a bar or you’ll be chirped the rest of your life.
“You’re going to let a bunch of goons dictate what happens in your bar?”
He crosses his arms, Johnny leaning against the bar top over his shoulder.
“Damn straight I am. This bunch of goons are my family, and we treat family with respect.”
“Thanks, Walt,” Kennedy says, standing up and linking her arm around mine.
“I can take it from here.” I thread my fingers through hers, squeezing lightly and letting her do her thing.
“Listen Chadd, we don’t need to get along, but we also don’t need to be around one another outside of work.
I’m here celebrating my boyfriend and his team’s big win tonight, and we were here first. We’re not working, so there is no reason for you to be over here.
I wish I could say it was good to see you, but I was raised to believe lying is wrong.
Now, go back to Vanessa Von Ray-Ban over there and enjoy your drinks on the other side of the bar. ”
Chadd’s jaw tightens as he seethes. “Her name is Mara.”
Kennedy and I exchange a quick glance and begin hysterically laughing, no one having any idea about our joke from earlier.
“What are you laughing about?” Chadd asks, looking like smoke is going to pour out of his ears as his face turns a deep shade of red.
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all,” I manage in the midst of my giggles.
Kennedy doubles over, unable to breathe, she’s laughing so hard. But she regains her composure to get out another dig. “Oh! Hey Johnny, play I Wear My Sunglasses at Night on the jukebox!”
Chadd finally gets the joke, stomping his foot as he storms off, waving off the drinks and dragging Mara out the door, pulling it shut with an exaggerated slam.
“Such a shame they didn’t want to stay after all—wonder why?” I say after composing myself.
“Probably going to go home and file a formal complaint against sunlight,” Kennedy whispers, and we double over again. Seeing her smile, hearing her laugh uncontrollably, makes me want to be with her even more.
“Speaking of going home,” she says, sliding her arm from mine, “I think I’m gonna head out. Maggie, are you ready to go?”
Maggie snorts and gives us a look like we’re certifiably insane. “Kenni…I am not taking you home. I’m staying at Vladi’s tonight. Your boyfriend is your ride. I’ll see you Sunday for brunch.”
I swallow hard at the thought of another awkward car ride. But also…I don’t want her to leave.
She turns to me, her lips twisting. “This is your night to celebrate. I can order an Uber if you want to stay longer with your team—”
“No!” I interrupt quickly. Awkward or not, I still want to be with her. “I’ll take you home. It’s not a problem. I was just getting ready to leave anyway.”
She scoffs. “I can’t imagine you wanting to go home early.”
I still don’t think she gets it—I will go anywhere she does.
“It’s been a long day, and I haven’t been drinking like the rest of these fools. Plus, I see them constantly. They can roast me another time. Come on, let’s go.”
We say our goodbyes, several members of the team hoot and holler as we walk away hand-in-hand. Mental note: give them shit about that later.
The ride to her place is actually comfortable.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume this feels more like what a real relationship should be.
Our nerves seemingly disappear as we continue making jokes at Chadd’s expense, the conversation flowing like a clean breakaway on fresh ice.
She laughed even harder when I told her I was seriously debating going full-on Crazy Rich Asians on his ass and buying the damn company they fly for so I could fire him.
She made me swear not to do it. And I did.
She doesn’t need to know I may have had my fingers crossed.
As we pull up to her building, her phone buzzes. She sighs, and my stomach twists. I can only imagine the texts she’s getting from the WAGs, not to mention social media clips of her being at the game, but as I put the car in park, she screams, “Oh my God. Oh my fucking God!”
I whip my head toward her, my heart pounding. “What? What’s wrong?”
She looks at me, her eyes filled with horror, and slowly holds her phone to my face. There’s a photo of the two of us at the arena when I’m opening the door for her to get in my car. It’s actually kind of cute for a pap picture. But the message beneath it makes my blood freeze:
Blocked number:
Your boyfriend doesn’t like to listen, so I’m hoping you will. Stay the fuck away from Jordan Boucher.
“That text you got that started all this?” Her eyes bounce everywhere, her mind too frantic to focus on anything specific. “Now they’re texting me.”
Fuck. Fuck, fucking, fuck, fuck.
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. I can’t avoid this any longer.
“Kennedy, we need to talk.”