Chapter 17
She answers on the second ring.
“Hey, Bookworm. What are you up to?”
“Just doing some laundry.”
“Oh, yeah? Anything I’d like?” I tease.
“Sure, if a beige, oversized hoodie with cat ears is your thing.”
“Don’t talk dirty to me, baby. It turns me on.”
She snorts. The sound is music to my ears. It makes me grin. Things seem to have shifted between us since she told me about her parents. She trusted me enough to know a big part of her past.
She let me in.
Her truth is not something she gives easily, but she gave it to me.
A real piece of herself.
And I feel closer to her than ever.
“You’re ridiculous,” she says, laughing.
“You love it.” I shift the phone to my other ear. “So, what are your plans tomorrow night?”
“Getting ready to face the reality of going back to work next week. Ink and Print hasn’t called yet, but I’m hopeful they will. Other than a book club meeting tomorrow, I’m not doing anything. Why?”
“They’ll call. I know it,” I say. “So listen, tomorrow happens to be my birthday. A bunch of us are hitting Ruby’s Roulette—bar, dance floor, great music. A closed event that will be contained. Say you’ll come?”
“Oh.”
She hesitates as if she’s about to break it to me that she can’t, but then she takes a deep breath, and my lungs constrict, hope blossoming as I wait for her reply.
“Yeah, okay. I guess.” She stops and takes another controlled breath. “I mean, yes,” she says with more confidence behind her tone this time. “I’ll be there. And happy birthday.”
I chuckle. “It’s not my birthday yet, sweetheart. See you tomorrow night. Wear that oversized hoodie for me, will ya?”
She snorts again. “Bye, Chase.”
“Night, Bookworm.”
***
Music and lights slam into me as the bathroom door swings open. Erin’s laugh echoes in my head, but she isn’t here, and she should have been an hour ago.
I never thought I’d be miserable over a girl not showing up to a place I invited her, but here I am.
I skip the bar and dodge the couples getting hot and heavy against the walls.
At least some people are having fun.
The smell of perfume and sweat hits like a bad memory. Once upon a time, girls, liquor, and drunken kisses were a routine.
Not anymore.
Now there’s only one girl in my head—and she’s the one who’s missing.
I’ve only had one drink. I planned to have one or two more, but I wanted to talk to Erin before the shenanigans of the night started and I made a fool out of myself in front of her.
“Oliver,” I murmur when I get to him. He barely spares me a glance, too busy entertaining a brunette.
Typical.
He waves his hand at me without looking, and I know what that means—not now, man.
I turn, ready to leave when Brax exits a booth. And there, in the corner tucked away with sleeves covering her hands and hair falling in soft waves with stray strands framing her beautiful face, is Erin.
She’s here.
Her eyes track Brax, and then they’re flicking over in my direction.
She cracks a smile that reaches her eyes.
That gorgeous dimple pops.
“Happy birthday,” she mouths, holding up a blue badge, twenty-five written in the middle.
I grin like the lovestruck fool I am. She turns her head away when I send her a wink, and I swear, even with all the lights, a blush creeps up her neck and settles over her cheeks.
“You’re lucky I like you,” Brax says, fixing me with a stern look that would be convincing if his eyes weren’t swimming in amusement.
He steps closer, slow and deliberate. “She’s underage.
Michigan law says a person has to be twenty-one to be in a bar.
” He gestures vaguely at the room around us.
“I should cite whoever let her inside, even if she’s on your list and it’s a private event,” Brax comments, and then his lips twitch just enough to ruin the threat.
“You gonna arrest my girl on my birthday, Detective?”
“Your girl, huh? Does she know that yet?”
“She will.”
He chuckles. “Treat her right, Pretty Boy. She’s special. She’s got this way of somehow making everything and everyone around better,” Brax says as he looks over at Erin, who’s in the middle of opening up a packet of Jelly Tots. “And you deserve nothing less.”
I can’t say I’m shocked he thinks that way about her. He talked to her most of the night at the event with Roman when she wasn’t by my side.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to get over there before someone else can claim the vacant spot next to her.”
Brax heads to the bar. When Erin sees me coming, she twists her body inside the booth and brings her knees up, her small feet resting on the seat.
I throw myself down next to her, the space between us barely there. I rest my forearms on the tops of her legs, and her warmth seeps through the fabric.
Resting my chin against my arm, I look at her. My pulse speeds up, and for a moment, I wonder if she can hear it, too.
“Happy birthday, Eighty-Seven,” she says, her candy breath fanning my face.
“You came,” I murmur.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“When I couldn’t find you, I didn’t think you were coming.”
“I got here an hour ago. I’ve been across the street.”
I frown at her confession, but then she leans in and whispers, “I’ve never been to a club before, and I don’t have a fake ID.”
My lips betray me, curving upwards. She’s so cute, and she doesn’t have a clue.
Tilting her head, she scans the area. Satisfied no one’s listening to her confession, she carries on. “A place like this… It’s not really my scene. I got nervous. The bouncer turned a few girls away. Said no puck rabbits were allowed.”
I bite the inside of my cheek hard to hold in my laughter.
Adorable. Fucking adorable.
“Brax must have stepped out for some air and spotted me.”
I look over at my friend. He’s holding a beer and chatting with Hayes. He lifts his bottle to me and winks, a satisfied smirk on his lips. I can’t help but laugh at the thought of him actually citing himself for letting Erin in. The tattooed grump really is a big softie underneath.
I turn back to face Erin.
“First off, being called a puck bunny is not a compliment. And there’s no one who would ever mistake you for being one. Second, you coming here tonight for me even though places like this aren’t your scene is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
She rolls her eyes in a playful manner. “Yeah, right. You’re a hockey player. I’m sure people do things or want to do things for you all the time.”
“I’m serious, Erin. You came here to be with me, even though it’s the last place you’d rather be. That means more than I can tell you, Bookworm.”
I lift my chin off my arm, stand, and shuffle my way out of the booth. I hold my hand out to her. “Dance with me.”
She hesitates for a beat, but then she rises to her feet and puts her palm in mine. I hold on to it tightly as I lead her onto the dance floor where others sway around us.
Her eyes shift from side to side as she watches them, telling me she’s nervous with all these people around her. They laugh and drink as their hands roam one another’s bodies.
I tug her closer, and her breath catches as she falls into my chest. Her whiskey eyes, full of uncertainty and trust, gaze into mine, and in this moment, I really hope there’s a shooting star flying across the sky above because I always want her looking at me this way.
My fingers are light when they make contact with her skin. Her eyes flicker, lashes dipping, showing me exactly what my touch does to her.
I love it.
“I won’t let anyone else lay a hand on you. I promise. You will always be safe with me, Bookworm. Always.”
Her voice is barely a whisper. “Okay.”
I spin her around as the music changes. Our bodies move to the rhythm, the world around us fading away. I’m not sure what songs we dance to. All I know is I’m completely distracted by the beauty in front of me who keeps her eyes locked on mine the entire time.
The tempo of the next song is slower than the previous one, giving me the perfect opportunity to inch closer. I spin her, and her back fits perfectly against me. My hands slide over her waist, hers resting on top of mine to keep them in place.
At first, I think it’s just a reaction to my hands moving, but she doesn’t pull them away. She melts into my touch like she likes it.
And I like us like this a lot.
We continue to sway together as peace echoes around us. We’re so close, only the tiniest little gap between our bodies. I desperately want to move closer, but I don’t. I’m careful not to pull her all the way against my front, even though I’ve imagined how her body will feel a thousand times over.
“Thank you for coming, Erin,” I murmur, lowering my head to the shell of her ear. “This is the best birthday. Thank you for making it special.”
She twists in my arms, and once again, I do my best to keep that tiny gap while I pray she doesn’t look down and see the raging hard-on between my legs.
“Special?” She tilts her head to look up at me. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re here. It means everything.”
Her lips part to speak, but a shout breaks through the music.
“Hey, man! Happy birthday,” Rudy yells from behind me, albeit a little drunk.
“Thanks, bud,” I say, turning to face him and blocking Erin from his view. I don’t do it on purpose or with intent. She’s just so damn small.
“Is that her?” Rudy whisper-shouts while pointing, a grin on his face.
I chuckle and step aside. “Erin, this is Rudy. Rudy, this is Erin,” I introduce.
“It’s nice to finally—” He freezes and the color drains from his face. Sweat appears on his forehead in beads, though that’s probably from it being a million degrees in here.
“You okay, man?” I ask. He locks eyes with mine and then turns back to Erin, who waits patiently and still has her hand out.
“Yeah. Yeah, fine. I, uh, I gotta go. Nice to meet you.” Without saying another word, he turns his back on us and bolts for the exit, not stopping to let anyone know he’s leaving. I make a mental note to find out what the hell that was about later.