Wild Card (Boston Titans #2)

1. Jules

ONE

JULES

I never know what to do with men if they’re not fictional. Am I supposed to pet them? Water them? Take them for a walk? It’s so hard to understand them. If you ask me, they should come with an instruction manual.

Honestly, I’d buy that thing so fast. I’d be the first in line. I’d even write it myself but I’d need the assistance of a woman who understands men and sadly, who has the time to devote to such things?

You need Dalai Lama levels of Zen to deal with men. Women only have that kind of zen when dealing with other women and even then, we can be disappointed.

Clearly, I shouldn’t be left alone with my thoughts in an airport. Why am I asking myself these questions? That’s a can of worms I’d rather not open lest the world fall in on itself.

Gosh, I’m always so dramatic before I’ve had coffee.

Feeling something against my leg, I look down and see a duffel back sitting next to my shoe.

Next to it is a man’s shoe attached to a man’s leg.

I follow it up slowly to a solid torso in a light blue polo and up to a lightly bearded jaw and still up to brown eyes which are looking directly at me.

Startled, I jerk back a little and smile awkwardly before glancing away.

He’ll probably think I’m checking him out when I’m really not.

There’s something about strange men that’s…

off putting. They might be the nicest people on the planet and I’ll still think they’re hiding a deep, dark secret and the next time people hear about me, it will be from my best friend, Lavinia, telling the world I was the brightest light in any room I walked into.

Just one of the many benefits of being a woman. I’m all rainbows and sunshines on the outside and true crime on the inside.

“My bag isn’t bothering you, I hope?” the man asks.

“No, you’re alright,” I say immediately. In a British accent.

Really, Juliet? You mad woman.

I’m not British. I do this weird thing where when I’m nervous talking to someone, I make up a whole new personality for myself. One of the many reasons I’m in therapy.

“There’s hardly any seats available,” he says. “Lots of people are traveling.”

I give him a strange look. “It’s an airport.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I mean I travel a lot, but not usually during this time of the day.”

That makes no sense. I don’t travel a lot, but it’s my understanding that airports are always busy, especially when it’s an international airport like Logan.

What if this man really is a psychopath and this is actually his first time flying in years because he’s been holed up in a basement somewhere? I’m going to give myself a panic attack.

“I’m Derek, by the way.”

I smile at him and don’t tell him my name.

“Are you travelling by yourself?” Derek continues to ask.

See, this is what I mean about men. Who asks a woman if she’s travelling by herself? It’s creepy. Especially if she refuses to talk back and tell you her name. Take a fucking hint.

As if all the questions aren’t bad enough, Derek manspreads into my space, his thigh pressing against mine.

I’m one second away from stabbing my pen so far into his thigh they’re going to have to cut him open to get it out.

The only reason I don’t is because I’m really looking forward to this vacation and I’d rather not spend any time in prison.

I cross my legs and twist my body away from him.

“No, I’m with my husband. We’re going on our honeymoon,” I reply. I’m committed to the British accent. I’ve already named her Jane.

“Oh.” The light in his eyes dims as they drop to my hands, which are resting over my laptop on my lap. No wedding ring. The only ring I’m wearing is a thin gold band on my pinky finger which matches with Lavinia.

We got them when we graduated college.

I don’t have a husband. I’m going to Hawaii with my best friend to celebrate the release of my latest book. She is married and has a husband who's going to be with us for the first two days of our trip.

I look up, hoping to have an inspiration strike, when the worst person I can possibly think of in this situation emerges through the crowd. Of course, it’ll be him of all people who appears when I need help.

It would have been easier to borrow Roman Maddox, Lavinia’s husband, temporarily than to ask him for help. But I have no choice. Because he’s coming closer and the man beside me is already opening his mouth to ask another question.

“There you are, sweetheart!” I exclaim, trying to calm the panic in my voice.

Drew’s head snaps up, his green eyes landing directly on me. They narrow slightly, which is not the look of love you want to see on your brand new husband.

“I’ve saved you a seat right here,” I say, removing my bag from the seat next to me and waving Drew over.

Drew looks between me, the seat, and the man sitting next to me.

I’ve known him since we were five and sadly, I’m pretty good at reading his expressions, especially when they’re related to me.

Because mostly his expression is what the fuck is going on and why am I involved in it?

It’s either that or resigned grumpiness.

Andrew Callahan is my best friend’s twin brother and the bane of my existence. Right now? He’s my only savior. His sheer height and broadness should be enough to scare any man. Especially if that man lives in Boston and watches hockey because Drew happens to be the captain of the Boston Titans.

Sighing heavily, Drew takes the seat next to me. He’s wearing his glasses today and I hate the realization that it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him with glasses.

“This is your husband?” Derek asks, looking between Drew and me.

We’re both sitting with our arms crossed, lest we accidentally touch each other. At Derek’s question, Drew looks at me, raising an eyebrow. Thankfully, he looks more amused than annoyed.

“This is him,” I confirm with a bright smile. “The light of my life.”

Ugh, I want to vomit.

“You’re a lucky man,” Derek says to Drew.

Ew, who says that? From Drew’s face, I can tell he’s thinking the same thing.

“I must have committed all kinds of sins in a past life to have her as a wife,” Drew says.

Derek looks confused by that reply and rightly so. Who says that about his wife whom he’s just married and going on a honeymoon with? I’m amused because Drew is playing along with my crazy ideas.

“I’m just in it for the bag,” I say to Derek, leaning in slightly. “He’s a professional athlete. Cha-ching!”

Derek is looking between the two of us like he can’t decide if we hate each other or if we’re putting him on.

“That’s why you refused to sign the prenup?” Drew asks, offended. His thick reddish hair is styled roughly, like he just ran his hands through it, and curls fall across his forehead. It makes him look surprisingly boyish.

I wink at him. “And now you’re stuck with me unless you want to give me half of everything.”

“I want a divorce,” Drew replies flatly.

I don’t know why I want to laugh. I’m in an airport, putting on a ridiculous British accent, and I’ve gone from being married to Drew Callahan to divorcing him in a matter of minutes.

“My lawyer has already filed,” I reply.

“You’re not going to see a penny in this divorce,” Drew says.

Now I do laugh. “My lawyer is going to eat yours for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. By the time we’re done, you’re going to wish you gave me half of everything.”

If I’m not mistaken, Drew’s eyes shimmer with interest. If we ever got married, this is exactly how it would end.

Good thing neither of us is crazy enough to actually entertain dating.

We might have known each other since we were five, but we’re not even friends.

Frenemies at best, if you take out the friend part, and also we’re not enemies.

We’re just two people who don’t like each other but are forced to be amicable to each other because we both love the same person.

Speaking of.

“We can’t leave you two alone for five minutes.” Lavinia and Roman have arrived with our coffees and breakfast. Lavinia is shaking her head at us.

I sigh with relief because I don’t have to talk to Drew anymore. I stand up and grab Vin’s arm.

“I need to pop into the ladies,” I say.

Roman frowns in confusion at my British accent, but Vin just nods. She hands the bags of food to Roman and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

Both Roman and Drew are joining us for the trip for two days because they’re still in the middle of their hockey season. They have some leeway because they’ve made it to the playoffs. At least, that’s what Lavinia told me.

I might be surrounded by hockey players and my best friend is also a retired hockey player, that doesn’t mean I have any interest in the sport or any knowledge of how things work.

“What’s going on?” Vin asks, when we’re far enough away. I glance behind me slightly to see that Roman has taken my spot and proceeded to manspread. It makes me laugh slightly.

If there’s one person who loves to piss off Drew more than me, it’s Roman.

“The man next to me started talking to me and I freaked out,” I explain. “When I opened my mouth, a British accent came out and along with it the fact that I’m married and going on a honeymoon. With Drew.”

Lavinia blinks her pretty green eyes and I can almost see her brain trying to comprehend the idea of me being married to her brother. She bursts out laughing, so loud people look at us. I start giggling and soon we’re just standing there laughing for no reason.

Vin and Drew are so different it’s a surprise they share the same parents. Who also love me, by the way. Everyone in the Callahan family and extended family does. Except Drew.

That’s fine, I don’t need him to like me.

“Why didn’t you say you were married to me?” Vin asks.

“The reason is threeforth,” I say, holding up three fingers.

“One, it didn’t occur to me. Two, even if it had occurred to me, OfLavinia is with you and there was always a chance Derek is a hockey fan and would have recognized you.

Three, what are the chances of him accepting I’m biologically not attracted to him because I’m for the girls? ”