Chapter 54 Blake
BLAKE
THE brIAR MEN’S HOCKEY TEAM wins their next game, putting them on an eight-game winning streak.
Which is sort of a miracle considering AJ would rather skate over Beau’s throat than pass him the puck.
Yet that’s exactly what happens to secure the win: a quick pass from AJ leading to a one-timer from Beau.
The home crowd screams as helmets fly off in celebration, and I watch in dismay as AJ skates away from his cheering teammates and disappears into the tunnel alone.
I’m starting to fear their friendship will never recover.
The last thing I wanted to do was go out tonight, not after the flurry of activity on my phone all day. Literally every woman in my life, including my own mother, texted me a link to the tabloid piece about Mollie May and her mysterious new man.
AKA the gorgeous, dark-haired, green-eyed sex god that the tabloids and gossip sites still haven’t figured out is Wyatt.
Eventually, someone will. The internet is rife with photos and videos of him performing in Nashville. Someone is going to recognize him and post it online. Until then, only I get to experience the joy of knowing Wyatt has moved on with a fucking pop star. And one he’s trashed repeatedly to boot.
Juliette, who I’ve barely seen since I left Delta Pi, convinced me that the only way to not give that article power over me is to ignore it. Don’t sit at home stewing. Don’t lie in bed obsessing over it.
Besides, if Wyatt really has moved on, I’m in no position to be mad about it. The last time we saw each other, I asked him to leave. I told him I couldn’t be there for him. I have no right to stop him from being with somebody else.
I attend the game with Juliette and Stella but surprisingly not Ivy, who I’ve barely seen since she and Stella started at Briar.
Stella claims she’s in the dance studio from morning till night, which I believe because Ivy has dedicated her whole life to ballet.
But I do find it odd that I have no idea what she’s been up to for nearly two months, and that she wouldn’t show up to support her older brother during his first season as team captain.
After the game, everyone heads to Malone’s, the sports bar in Hastings, where the Briar players are treated like heroes as they strut inside to cheers and backslaps. A brigade of starry-eyed puck bunnies instantly swarms to stake their claims.
I pile into a booth with the girls, along with Beau, Gray, and a few of their teammates. Not AJ, but he did come to the bar at least, even if he’s taking up residence in another booth.
“You guys, Wyatt is everywhere,” Gray says, shaking his head in amazement. “I heard his song at the Coffee Hut today.”
“Dude’s blowing up,” Stella agrees.
Juliette squeezes my leg under the table in a comforting gesture. I pick up my Diet Coke and gulp some down. I didn’t feel like drinking tonight, but hearing Wyatt’s name, I sort of regret that decision.
They’re not wrong, though. Wyatt has been everywhere lately. He hasn’t released his album yet, but according to Gigi, it’s all done, and his manager and new PR team have a whole plan for how to roll it out. So far, they’ve only released one single. “Lightkeeper.”
The song he wrote about me.
About us, and the first time we slept together.
It shreds my heart to pieces every time I listen to it. And I listen often. Too often. It’s basically playing on repeat most of the day.
“Do you think he’s hooking up with her? Mollie May, I mean,” Gray says, and Beau is quick to elbow him in the ribs. Remembering I’m in the booth, Gray gives a sheepish look. “Aw shit. Sorry, B.”
I shrug, smiling like I’m fine. “Don’t worry. We’re not together. I don’t care what he does.”
Now I feel Stella’s hand on my other thigh, as the normally raging bitch softens her expression.
“I’m fine,” I insist. “Jeez, you guys. I’m happy for him. He’s living his dream.”
Across the booth, Beau’s gaze flicks toward me. He doesn’t say anything. I don’t think he believes me. I don’t think any of them do.
Hell, I don’t believe myself.
Needing a breather from the pity I feel thickening the air, I slide out of the booth. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”
The line is long, though, and it’s nearly fifteen minutes before I return to the booths, only to find my seat has been stolen by one of the d-men. I’m walking toward the booth, prepared to fight for my spot, when someone in the other booth sticks out their arm and grabs my hand.
I glance down and find AJ’s brown eyes twinkling devilishly. He must be drunk, because this is the first time in ages that I’ve seen his killer grin. I honestly sort of missed it.
I grin back at him. “Well, hi there.”
“Hey.” He tugs me toward him. “Come sit with me.”
I slide in next to AJ, because my other seat has been hijacked and AJ is alone. On the other side of the booth, one of his teammates is making out with a redhead, who’s a little too into it considering we’re in public. I’m pretty sure her hand is down his pants.
Since I haven’t gotten AJ alone since his falling-out with Beau, I decide to take this opportunity to see if I can finally talk some sense into him.
He drapes his arm along the back of the seat, angling his body toward mine. The music is so loud, he has to bring his head close to mine so we can talk.
“That was a hell of a game,” I tell him, keeping it light. “Great assist.”
He shrugs off the compliment. His hand trails toward my shoulder, then lower, his fingers tweaking the end of my braid. “You look good tonight, B. Well, actually, you always look good, but you already know that.”
“Thanks.”
He winks. “Not gonna return the compliment?”
“Nope. Your ego’s big enough.”
“You know what we should do?” he drawls.
“What?” It’s becoming obvious he’s drunker than I thought.
“Go back to my place.”
“You mean the studio apartment you’re renting ’cause you’re too stubborn to make up with Beau?” I say sweetly. After the Tahoe fight, AJ moved out of the house he shared with the other two Golden Boys. Which is a boneheaded move, because it’s a great house.
“I’m not stubborn. I just have no interest in talking to that asshole.”
“That asshole is your best friend.”
AJ rolls his eyes. “He was balls deep in my girlfriend. There’s no coming back from that, Blake.”
I sigh. “You could try.”
“Or I could move on.” He smirks, his thumb brushing my bare shoulder. I shrugged out of my hoodie the moment we got here because the bar is way too hot, but it left me in a very skimpy camisole, which AJ’s hungry gaze is currently raking over. “Want to help me move on?”
“You’ve had too much to drink.”
“Nah, I’ve had just enough.” His voice drops, growing husky. “Enough to tell you I can have you bent over this table if you just say the word.”
“Jesus, AJ.”
“What?” He blinks innocently.
Irritation flickers through me. “This isn’t you.”
“You’re wrong.” He leans back, spreading his arms and grinning like he owns the whole damn bar. “This is exactly me. And I forgot how much fun it was to be me.”
“What’s fun? Banging your way through life the way you did in high school?”
“Yes.”
I study him, searching for bravado in his smile or maybe a hollow shadow behind his eyes, but I don’t see it. He seems genuinely smug. Pleased with the fact that he’s reverting to fuckboy status.
His hand brushes my thigh under the table, and I smack it away.
“I’m not going home with you, Adam,” I say, full naming him so he knows I mean it.
“Too bad. Would’ve been hot.”
Shrugging, he takes a long swig of beer, then grabs his phone and proceeds to pull up a hookup app while I’m sitting right the fuck there beside him.