Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
LIAM
When I told Ruby that my teammates would love her, I knew they would, but what I didn’t know was how fucking much they’d love her. Too much almost. Bouch lets out a booming laugh as Ruby finishes telling a story. I don’t know what the story is, but the whole table is enthralled.
It shouldn’t piss me off.
But it does.
It’s not rational for me to be so mad. But the way they look at her—focused, interested, captivated—makes me want to drag her out of here and throw her in the truck so they can’t look at her anymore. Still, I can’t tell her or any of them that, or I’m the one who looks like an asshole.
“You good?” a voice murmurs from beside me.
Turning my head, I look over to see Logan watching me with a concerned expression on his face. “I’m fine,” I lie.
He snorts. “Hard watching a whole tableful of men focus on your woman, especially when she makes cupcakes that taste like they came straight from heaven and looks like a fucking knockout wet dream.”
I want to punch him in the arm, maybe even the face, but I don’t. Instead, my lips twitch into a smirk. I mean, she is a wet dream, but she’s my fucking wet dream. What I don’t like is her being anyone else’s.
“Makes me want to punch every man with eyeballs in the face,” I state.
Logan chuckles. “So she’s the one, huh?”
I could lie, but what would be the point? I knew she was different the moment I saw her holding those boxes of cupcakes and the coffee. Then that coffee spilled on me, and I couldn’t help it—I knew she was the one.
The food comes, and thankfully, the conversation splits off and isn’t focused on Ruby any longer. Reaching beneath the table, I curl my fingers around her thigh and squeeze gently. She doesn’t make a move immediately, her head tipped slightly as she looks down at her plate.
When I squeeze her thigh a second time, she slowly turns, looking up into my eyes. My lips curve up into a grin. She matches my smile, but only slightly, then I watch as her teeth sink into her bottom lip, and her cheeks tint pink.
“You ready for dessert?” I ask.
I watch as her eyes round, then she laughs softly before she hisses my name. She’s trying to make it sound like she’s admonishing me. But I can see the underlying excitement behind her eyes, along with the way her nostrils flare.
“Hurry up and eat,” I murmur.
She lets out a trembling exhale. It’s cute as shit. Keeping my fingers curled around her thigh, I shift my attention back to my own meal and pick up my fork to continue eating, wishing I were already finished so that I can eat something else.
The men start to peel off and head home. We’re all beat the fuck up from practice. “So, are you coming to the game this weekend?” Bouch asks. He’s sitting across from Ruby, his eyes focused on her face, searching for an answer.
“The game?” she asks.
There is a moment of silence, and I flex my fingers around her thigh again. “I’d love to have you at the game. I can get you a ticket,” I offer.
She doesn’t say anything immediately. Her back is straight, her muscles tight. I doubt anyone else notices, but I watch as she breathes heavily. Her chest is rising and falling faster and harder as each second passes.
“Okay,” she says with a whooshed exhale.
We leave the restaurant not long after the conversation about the game and a ticket. Something is wrong. I can tell she’s off. As I drive her back to the arena to get her car, we don’t speak.
Pulling into the spot next to her vehicle, I shift my truck into park and look over to her. She’s staring straight forward, unmoving.
“I don’t think I should go to the game,” she whispers.
Dipping my chin once, I continue to stare at her profile, trying to decide what the fuck she’s actually telling me.
Slowly, she turns her head, her eyes finding mine. “What do you mean you don’t think you should come?” I ask.
She shrugs a shoulder, then I watch as she presses her lips together before parting them slightly.
My fingers itch to touch her, then I smirk because I can touch her.
Lifting my hand, I cup her cheek. Sliding my thumb across her bottom lip, my gaze travels the path before I lean forward and touch my lips to hers.
“I want you to come, Ruby.”
“Liam,” she whispers.
I watch as she blinks a few times, then her gaze flicks down slightly. Shit, I want her so badly. I wonder what she would do if I wrapped my hands around her waist and hauled her over the center console and onto my lap.
“Why don’t you want to see me play?”
“It’s not that,” she exhales, shifting her gaze up to meet mine. “It’s that I don’t know if I should go. I don’t do well with attention, and I get nervous. I just can’t handle being in the middle of anything. I feel like it might be limelight-ish.”
My lips twitch into a smirk. Shit, she’s cute. So damn cute. I want her at my game, where I can see her—where everyone can see her. She’s mine—I’m going to keep her, and I want to show her off.
“Come to the game. Ruby. Watch me play, then we can go home together, and you can show me just how hot you think I am on the ice.” I give her a wink.
“Can’t I just wait for you at home?” she asks.
Leaning forward, I touch my mouth to hers, but I don’t deepen the kiss. Shifting my head back slightly, I rest my forehead against hers. “Watch me play?” I ask.
She lets out a long breath. “Okay, but when I act crazy, nervous, and anxious, just know I warned you.”
I laugh softly, dipping my chin slightly so that I can touch my mouth to hers again. I kiss her. It’s long, hard, and wet. She’s coming to my game even though she doesn’t want to.
I’m going to make it worthwhile.
I’m sure she’s nervous, but I know everything is going to be just fine. Just like our meal with the team was. Everyone loved her, a little too much. Shit. I have a woman, a girlfriend, a future.
I don’t think anything has excited me this much since making the Houston Lonestars. Ruby is special, she’s amazing, and I want her to be part of my life—integrated in a way where she will never not be at my side. I know it sounds crazy as fuck too… I just don’t care.