Chapter 52
fifty-two
INDIGO
No one has ever gotten into a fight for me. Logically, I know violence is rarely the answer, but I’m also a red-blooded woman who also happens to write romance novels for a living, and I’m not too evolved to admit that watching Bash punch Ryland in the face really does it for me.
The crowd gasps as Ryland goes down in one hit, the smug look wiped clean off his face and replaced by blood and outrage.
“You fucking hit me!” my ex screams as he lifts a hand to his bleeding nose. “You probably broke my nose.”
“Your nose isn’t broken,” Sebastian growls, prowling toward Ryland and leaning over him menacingly. “But it will be if you don’t get your pathetic ass up and out of this bar. And leave Indie alone. You got me?”
Swoon.
“Is it wrong to say I’m kind of loving this?” Lola mutters.
“Nope,” Isla says.
“Definitely not,” Mira agrees.
Ryland pushes to his feet, knees knocking together, blood dripping down his face and onto his expensive shirt and favorite pair of jeans.
Serves him right. He glares at Sebastian but wisely takes a step back.
“You’re going to pay for this. I’m going to press charges, and then I’m gonna sue your ass. ”
The hockey players around me let out displeased rumbles and get to their feet. As do I. They follow me out of the booth and form a semicircle around Bash and me when I take my place beside him and link our fingers.
“You’re not going to do any of that,” I tell my ex.
He scoffs, but it’s difficult to look unaffected when you’re bleeding out of your nose. “And why wouldn’t I?”
“Did my dad ask you to deliver the souvenirs for Lola and me in person?”
Ryland frowns. “What?”
“Or did he ask you to ship them?”
He doesn’t answer. Just shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“How did you pay for your plane tickets here? And the ticket to the game? Who’s paying for your hotel?”
“I-I am.” Ryland shifts again.
“Really?” I look around the wall of hockey players at my best friend. “Lola, do you ever recall Ryland willingly dropping the kind of money he must have spent this week on anything, ever?”
A slow grin spreads across her face. “You know what, babe? I really don’t.”
“Seems strange, doesn’t it? That he’d spend all this money now that we’re broken up?”
“Sure does,” Lola replies.
Turning to Ryland, I note the way his eyes shift, the way he rubs his mouth, and the fact that he can’t seem to make eye contact with me. “How’d you get my dad to pay for all of it?”
My ex stills. “Why does any of this matter?”
“You know, my dad has given you a lot of leeway and autonomy over the years. In fact, I happen to know he gave you a card with access to a hefty account so you don’t have to expense anything or use your own money.
I also know he’s way too lax about that kind of thing, and he probably never even thinks to look at the expenses coming out of it. ”
Ryland’s right foot begins to tap against the floor. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“No, of course not. I’m just thinking out loud.” I peer around the wall of hockey players again. “Lola, I wonder if I should suggest that my dad has his accountant comb through all the business expenses that have come out of that account over the last few years?”
“That sounds like a smart idea to me,” Lola says, nodding. “I’m sure nothing has come out of it that shouldn’t, but he really should get better about keeping track of his expenditures. I know he’s rich, but he is getting divorced, so the lawyers will need to comb through everything, anyway.”
The color leaches from Ryland’s face.
“So true. But you know, if they did find something they shouldn’t, I could probably put in a good word with my dad. Under a few conditions.”
“So generous of you,” Lola says, nodding seriously.
“And what would those conditions be?” Ryland asks, his voice flat and quiet.
“They’re simple, really. You leave. You don’t file charges against Sebastian, you don’t sue him, you don’t speak his name. And you leave me alone. For good. I never want to see you or hear from you again.” Narrowing my eyes, a gleeful satisfaction expands in my chest when Ryland grimaces. “Got it?”
“Yeah. Got it.” He can’t even look at me. His shoulders curl and blood still trickles out of his nose. He looks pathetic.
“Great. Since that’s all settled, you can see yourself out. See you never.”
That finally gets Ryland to look up at me, and I’d be hurt by the animosity in his gaze if I still gave a shit about him.
But I don’t.
All eyes and phones follow Ryland as he turns his back with one last dirty look in Bash’s direction, picks his way through the crowded bar, and walks out of the door and my life forever. Bash squeezes my hand, and the crowd cheers, everyone going back to their drinks now that the drama is over.
“You okay?” he asks me, cupping my face with his bruised hand, his eyes soft and his voice tender.
“Me? I’m not the one who just punched a guy.” I gently tug his hand away from my face so I can inspect the damage he did to his knuckles. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve had worse on the ice,” he says with a shrug. “I’m sorry he said all that.”
“Fuck him. What he thinks doesn’t matter. All I care about is what you think.”
“I think you’re the most beautiful, intelligent, amazing woman I’ve ever met. And I’m hopelessly in love with you.” The corners of Bash’s lips twitch before curving into a smile that steals the breath from my lungs.
“Then I’m more than okay. And I love you too.”
The hockey players around us cheer, along with all of our other friends.
“I love love,” Griffin says with a sniffle to Logan as we all pile back into the booth.
Logan claps him on the shoulder and says, “I know you do, bud.”
When we’re all seated, Sebastian claps his hands together. “Well, now that that’s over, let’s celebrate!”
Drinks keep magically appearing on the table, laughter flows freely, and the guys soak up the constant stream of fans who congratulate them, tell them their favorite playoff moments, and take quick selfies.
And while I’m still a little gun-shy about being in the photos, and I’m not as comfortable with the attention as the guys are, I’m also not feeling the itch beneath my skin that makes me want to run.
Because I have Sebastian on one side, Lola on the other, and a whole booth full of friends who have my back.
It’s everything.
Well, almost.
“Are you okay?” Lola asks, smirking, when I shift in my seat and sigh for the millionth time.
“Me? Yeah. Why?” It’s not a complete lie.
I’m okay, but I’m also frustrated as hell.
Sebastian and I finally said those three little words that have been screaming in my head for the last ten years, and all I want is to be alone with him so I can show him how much I love him.
My panties are still damp from watching him knock Ryland out in defense of me, my skin is warm from his proximity and the beer I’ve been nursing, and it’s all I can do to hold myself back from jumping him right here in the middle of the crowded bar.
“Girl. I’m not blind. You keep sneaking longing glances at your boyfriend’s dick.”
“What? I do not.” I’m not actually doing that, am I?
“You do. Frankly, I’m impressed the two of you have stayed this long. I bet Megan fifty bucks you would dip half an hour ago to go bang.” Lola arches an eyebrow and her girlfriend chuckles beside her.
“You’re paying for our next date, baby girl.” Megan kisses Lola’s temple before grinning at me. “Thanks for that, Indie.”
I choke on a laugh. “Glad to be of service?”
“I don’t think anyone would blame you two if you left,” Megan says. “You’ve been here long enough, and there will be plenty more celebrations for the two of you to sit through.”
“You think?”
“Think what?” Bash asks, turning his attention to me.
“I’m telling your girl that it’s okay for you to leave.” Megan grins, throwing her arm around Lola’s shoulder. “Get some private celebration time in. You know.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
“You want to leave, Rosebud?”
I study Sebastian’s face. I don’t want to drag him away from celebrating the biggest win of his career. If he wants to stay all night, I’m happy to do it. But if there’s any chance he’s as desperate to get out of here as I am, I’m going to jump on that.
“I don’t want to take you away from celebrating, babe.”
Sebastian’s warm, earthen eyes darken. “There’s more than one way to celebrate. In fact, I can think of a few ways I’d like to”—he lets his eyes rove my body—“celebrate.”
A shiver tickles my spine when Bash’s long fingers trace a lazy path up my thigh. “Oh, yeah?”
“They all involve you cheering my name.”
I almost swallow my tongue.
Lola chuckles. “Yep. Get out of here, you two. Let me know if you’re coming home tomorrow, Inds. Love you. Go celebrate in pound town.”
Home. Yeah. That’s what this place is now.
“Well.” Sebastian stands and slaps his thighs while eyeing everyone at the table. “We’re out. See you all tomorrow night at Griffin’s.”
The ladies give me knowing looks while the guys chuckle and tell us to have fun.
We exit Chasers amid cheers and hoots, hand in hand.
Although they’re cheering for Bash and the fact that they just won the Cup, my cheeks are hot and probably fire-engine red, because I can’t help thinking they know exactly what we’re about to do, and that’s why they’re cheering.
I suck in a deep breath as soon as we step out into the warm summer night. Everything with Ryland aside, tonight was fun. The crowds didn’t bother me the way they used to, and I didn’t flinch at every photo flash or curious look. Because I had Bash beside me and our friends surrounding me.
Maybe I can really do this. I can show the world who Violet Quinn is, embrace the chaos, and find joy in it if these are the people behind me. My heart swells, feeling too big for my chest as we walk back to the arena and Sebastian’s car.
“You look happy,” Bash says, a soft smile playing at his lips.
“I am. Really happy.”
“I’m sorry that dickhead tried to ruin your night.” He gives my hand a squeeze.
“Me too. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not with you there. And everyone else.” I suck in a breath. “And not when you love me.”
Bash tugs me to him, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing people to part and go around us.
Normally, something like that would make me feel self-conscious.
But not anymore. Not when Bash has me pressed to his chest, arms around me, head bent to look down at me with heat and love glittering through his eyes.
He lowers his nose, letting it brush against mine. “I do love you. So much, baby. I have loved you for so long that it’s written in my DNA now. I don’t know who I am without loving you. And now that I have you back, I hope you know I’m never, ever letting you go.”
“No?” The question is breathless. He’s taking all the oxygen.
“Nope. You’re mine now. Forever, if you’ll have me.”
My heart gallops in my chest, and I blink wildly at him. “Are you asking?”
“Not yet,” he says, so softly. Calloused fingers skim my cheekbones before brushing a strand of hair off my face. “We don’t need to rush. But I will ask. You can count on that.”
If he wasn’t holding on to me, I fear I would float away. “You’d better.”
“Cross my heart, Rosebud. Now, come on. If I have to wait much longer to bury myself in you, I’m going to lose my mind.”
He’s not the only one.
“Then we’d better hurry.”