Chapter 9 Eve #2
“It doesn’t matter because I’m not sitting up pining after you.
Have a long, boring, terrible fucking life, Shawn.
I’m glad I don’t have to be in it anymore because you’re a miserable person and a really shitty partner.
A soul-suck. A gloomy poison that infects everyone around you until you eat away at their light and creativity and energy because all you know how to do is take. ”
I’m proud of myself when my firm tone only shakes slightly.
“Damn,” Reagan murmurs somewhere behind me. “Tell him, girl.”
Shawn’s chest rises and falls for a few beats, then his face contorts with anger. “You bratty fucking bitch!”
He manages to take one step toward me before Cole and the hockey guys move to protect me. Cole grabs him while Easton tugs me back until he’s blocking me. Cameron puts a hand on my shoulder and Theo hovers at my side, pausing his glare to throw me a wink.
My heart swells. I love these guys. Their bond as a group runs deep, and they treat me as if I’m part of their little family, too.
Cole wrenches Shawn by the unforgiving grip on his baggy hoodie, walking him back into the corner near the fireplace. He doesn’t raise his voice enough for us to hear. The line of his chiseled jaw is rigid as he scowls and speaks in Shawn’s ear. Shawn goes pale.
This fierce protectiveness charged with the barely contained threat of violence shouldn’t be a turn on, yet it is. It reminds me of how hot I found it when he’d check his opponents playing defense. I will my body to stop being such a thirsty disaster.
Shawn nods at what Cole is saying. He stumbles when he’s released, blurts an apology without looking me in the eye, and scrambles for the exit.
Cole watches until he leaves, then turns to me. He grasps my arms and dips his chin.
“Are you alright?” he mutters.
“Fine. Really,” I insist when he doesn’t buy it. “I swear, I’m good.”
“So,” Theo drawls. “Who’s still up for pizza?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna go,” I stammer. “Thanks for having my back guys. Cole.”
I meet his concerned gaze and a fresh wave of fire spreads in my cheeks. Before he says anything else, I grab my latte and half-eaten pastry from the coffee table and dash out of the cafe with a hasty goodbye.
The coffee shop by campus was crowded, but The Landmark is mostly dead during my shift later in the afternoon. It started snowing on my way in, dusting everything in Heston Lake.
I’d love to be hiding away in my apartment after the scene at Clocktower Brew House earlier, but unfortunately I need to make money to live. Who decided that? Rude.
I’m more humiliated than angry about running into Shawn. He showed his true colors in all their douchebag glory. Having Cole and half the hockey team jump to my defense is as heartwarming as it is embarrassing.
Mom and Dad are going to hear all about the incident. No doubt. Who knows how the story will be twisted by then.
I text Benson and ask him to help me out with damage control before the town’s gossip mill gets crazy. He responds with a string of emojis I’m not bothering to decipher. I take the peace sign, heart hands, beer glass cheers, and laughing emojis to mean that he’s on it.
I’m braced to hear some version of it, but our usual regulars only talk hockey, hockey, and more hockey. I tune to the game on the flatscreens for them and they leave me be unless they want a refill.
It’s slow, but I have an eighty pound tan and white shadow with a wagging tail and humid dog breath ghosting at the back of my legs to keep me company while I pass the time. Hammy follows me when I’m on the move and leans against me when I’m not busy.
In the middle of my shift, Cole comes in.
He takes a seat at the bar a few stools down from Neil Cannon, the town’s local retired NHL legend.
People ask for his picture or autograph when they recognize him.
To those of us that grew up here, he’s just Mr. Cannon. He’s a sweet guy, if somewhat grouchy.
Cole shakes his hand and buys him a round when he orders a beer with a burger.
“Coming right up.” I salute before pouring his drink.
He scrutinizes me. “You all good?”
“Yup,” I say brightly as I set his beer on a coaster in front of him.
He grasps my wrist gently to stop me from pulling away. “But for real?”
I duck my face. “Yeah. Thank you.”
His piercing gaze is unwavering. “Tell me if that guy ever bothers you again. I’ll make sure he’s not a problem for you. No one treats you like that.”
My knees grow weak. I nod, gripping the sink behind the bar for balance when he releases me.
“Not eating dinner with my parents tonight?” I ask when I have myself under control.
The side of his mouth quirks. “I wanted to keep you company.”
I twist my fingers in the bar rag. Hammy interrupts my fluttering heart with a boof.
Smiling, I give him a scratch behind his ears. “You’re the best company.”
“I am, aren’t I?” Cole jokes.
I huff out a laugh. He leans on the bar and props his chin in his hand.
“The dog,” I correct.
“Woof.” His grin stretches slowly at my amused eye roll.
I drift around to check on everyone. Once I handle refills, Cole’s food is ready. I pop into the kitchen to get the order, then return to find Hammy has Cole off his stool to pet him. My brother’s also arrived.
“Hey. Are you here for a drink?”
“I just stopped by to talk to Matt about brewery stuff,” Benson says.
“Mr. B’s in the office.” I jerk my thumb to the hall that leads back there.
“You too good to drink with me?” Cole pauses from showering the dog with attention to elbow Benson.
“Fine, fine. Pour me whatever’s on tap.”
I get it for him, keeping half my attention on Cole and the dog while they chat about an upcoming practice for their beer league team.
I bite my lip around a smile. He’s beyond enamored with Hammy. I don’t blame him, Hambone is one of the sweetest dogs ever.
Folding my arms and leaning on the bar, I watch them playing together. “You should get a dog. Didn’t you talk about it all the time?”
Cole hums, massaging Hammy’s ears. He leans into Cole’s legs, tongue lolling in bliss.
“I would in a heartbeat. I just worry about having enough time with all the travel. If I got a dog, I’d want to give it all the time I could, or it wouldn’t be fair,” he says.
“The team doesn’t travel that much. Except when they make it to playoffs and the championship. You could get someone to watch him. Like me, I’d do it.”
“I would, too,” Benson says. “You could take it to the rink.”
Cole’s shoulders shake with an amused huff. “Yeah, that would be awesome.”
His expression shutters. A pang echoes in my chest at the flash of uncertainty, wishing I had some way to take it away for him as easily as he’s done for me recently.
Hammy butts Cole’s hand to ask for more petting. I get the jar of treats we keep behind the bar for customers to give to him when he begs and offer it to Cole with a shake. He shoots me a soft smile.
“We’ll see,” he says. “Until then, there’s this guy.”
Hammy’s body wriggles under his attention. He gobbles down the treats he’s presented and plants himself by his new best friend when Cole sits.
Benson finishes his drink and heads to the back office.
“Your food’s getting cold.” I steal one of his fries. “Eat this.”
“But look at his face.” He gestures to what I like to call Hammy’s seal eyes—big, round, adorable.
“I know, he’s hard to resist. Just looking at him gives me a boost. It’s free serotonin.”
Lainey Boucher comes through the entrance with an armful of books.
Snowflakes melt in the loose strands of dark blonde hair that fall from her ponytail to frame her face.
She nudges her slightly fogged glasses up the bridge of her nose.
She looks just like her twin brother, though Theo carries himself more confidently.
“Hey, Lainey.”
“Hi,” she mumbles quickly.
She’s super shy when there are too many people, but we bond over romance books when it’s quiet.
“There’s plenty of open booths to chill in today,” I point out.
“Great.”
She goes to the far corner. The dog follows her, laying at her feet under the booth while she takes out her laptop and bends over a notebook. Whatever she’s working on has her completely absorbed.
“Now you can eat your food without guilt,” I tell Cole.
He smirks, spinning the basket so the fries are closer to me as he picks up his burger. I resist for a moment, then snag another fry.
During another lull not long after, I check my phone. I don’t mean to, but I open the Love Struck app. The match screen with Cole is becoming way too familiar when it pops up.
I freeze, checking to see if it notified him. His phone lights up on the bar. He lifts a brow, tapping the notification.
A beat later, his gaze finds mine.
Damn it.
How many times has this been now? Three? Four? I’m losing count.
It wouldn’t keep happening if I could stop myself from downloading it to my phone rather than leave it deleted. Every time I do, it takes my profile off of hiatus and treats it like a clean slate.
My thumb hovers over the options. He remains silent. I feel the weight of his observation.
Neither of us say anything while I quickly select unmatch and set my phone face down on the bar. I don’t touch it for the rest of my shift.