Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
DAISY
“Are you okay?” I ask when we slip out of the taxi and he reaches for me.
Connor stops and turns toward me, his free hand coming out of his pocket to rake through his hair. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You’re clinging onto me like a baby koala,” I say, glancing down between us where his fingers have mine in a tight grip.
He frowns like he’s just now realizing he’s been holding on to me, then he reluctantly lets me go and stuffs both hands back into his pockets.
He’s wearing those dark slacks again, with a button-down shirt that clings to him in a way that makes it hard for me not to stare.
It’s his game day uniform. Except he ditched his suit jacket back at the arena before we left.
“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I guess I’m not feeling great.”
“Are you going to talk to him?”
He shrugs, absentmindedly staring at something over my shoulder. “I don’t really know what to say.”
He looks so tired and sad, despite their win tonight. I never understand why guys refuse to talk about their feelings. As if bottling up emotions has ever worked for anyone. I reach up and let my thumb run across his cheek, hoping to erase some of the sadness in his eyes. “Anything is a start.”
He nods, reluctantly glancing toward the bar, until I nudge him forward.
He stays close to me, letting me take the lead, while we weave through the masses in the bar.
It’s not hard to spot the team at their usual tables in the back, all the commotion centered around them.
Ollie is standing on a chair, motioning at the bartender for another round.
He’s the first to spot Connor and I pushing through the crowd.
“Took you long enough. Did you crawl here or something?” he calls over the crowd when we get closer, jumping off the chair and throwing an arm around my shoulder to tug me in for a half hug.
I let him. Ollie is loud and obnoxious on the best of days, but there’s something vulnerable about him hiding under the loud jokes that he only lets out when he thinks no one is looking.
Connor rolls his eyes. “Not all of us are willing to bribe our Uber drivers to break the speed limit.”
“You almost missed limbo.”
“I’m not bending over backward for you.” Connor snorts, a half-smile finally finding its way onto his lips.
“See, I told you he wouldn’t join.” Tanner appears by our side with a fresh tray of beers. Ollie drops his arm from around my shoulder, while Connor scoops up two beers from Tanner’s tray, handing one of them to me. Accepting it, I shift a little closer to him.
“Just once, I would like for you to be wrong,” Ollie mutters.
“Good luck with that.” Tanner takes the rest of the tray to the table. I follow him, slipping into the empty chair next to Lauren. Connor follows me, dragging up a chair beside me.
With most of the team here tonight, we’re squeezed into the dark at the back of the bar.
Someone has pushed over another two tables, trying to create enough space for all of us, but even then, it’s a mess of tangled limbs and chairs.
Maybe that’s why no one notices when Connor slips his hand over my thigh under the table.
I still, glancing around. Satisfied that no one is looking, I slide one hand under the table to link my fingers with his. I feel him relax against me.
“Finally,” Lauren exclaims when she spots me beside her, and I angle my body toward her, shielding Connor’s hand on my thigh. “I need a distraction.”
“From what?”
“Matty,” she says, pointing toward a junior player at the next table over. “He’s been trying to ask me out ever since Luke’s birthday party.”
“He’s cute.”
“I’ve seen him puke his guts out. There’s no coming back from that, trust me.” She visibly shudders. “Besides, he’s not my type. Too much of an athlete.”
“Most of your friends are athletes.”
“You and Vee are my friends, the rest I just tolerate.” She winks conspiratorially. “Maybe you can go on a date with Matty? You know, throw the scent off?”
I laugh awkwardly. “I don’t think he’s really my type either.”
She pouts in his direction.
“Poor Matty. I should probably put him out of his misery,” she says, reluctantly sliding out of her chair and taking her drink with her as she moves across to where the young player is making heart eyes at her.
I move to follow her, but still when Connor’s fingers flexes on my thigh. I glance over just in time to see Luke slide into the empty seat across from Connor.
When I start to pull my hand away, determined to give them some space, Connor’s hand slides onto my inner thigh keeping me in place.
I scowl at him out of the corner of my eye, but his gaze is firmly locked on his beer, ignoring both me and Luke.
Coward.
“Are you not even going to look at me?” Luke grumbles from across the table.
I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but it’s practically impossible not to.
Connor looks up, his jaw set and eyes guarded.
It must not have been the reaction Luke expected, because he sighs, sounding exhausted.
“Look, I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I’m sorry.”
I feel Connor relax beside me. “I should have told you.”
“Yeah, well, I probably didn’t make it too easy.” Luke chuckles dryly, both hands running through his hair and over his face. He looks wrung out as he sags back in his chair. “Fuck, man, I thought we were on the same page.”
“I know.” Connor sighs. I take another sip of my beer, trying to look like I’m not listening in. “But just because hockey isn’t my whole life, doesn’t mean I’m not giving everything I have for this team.”
“I know.”
“Are we cool?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
“Hey, Captain, look what I can do!” Ollie calls from somewhere behind me.
Luke groans. “I should probably go save Ollie’s ass before he breaks it falling off the pool table.”
“Good luck.”
When Luke is gone, I lean a little closer to Connor. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Under the table his fingers drag up my thigh, pulling the hem of my dress with it. “Dance with me?”