Page 5 of The Keeper

“Not a chance. Walk away. Now.”

“Make me.”

“Do you really want to start something with a guy who has at least six inches on you, plus about thirty pounds of pure muscle?”

“Fuck off. Go give up some more penalty shots so we can lose another championship, you washed up knob.”

I clenched my jaw, swallowing back the urge to deck this guy right here on the sidewalk. I couldn’t care less who he was or what stupid, drunken argument he thought he needed to have with two professional athletes.

“Hold on, Xavier,” Cade focused a self-righteous gaze on the inebriated intruder. “The whiny, no-talent asshole wants to hear what he has to say.”

The guy lurched forward even though I still had him in a pretty tight grip. More than a few people had their mobile phones out, no doubt taking pictures or recording what was happening. This had the potential to turn into a viral mess if it escalated. I dug my fingers into the material, pulling the guy back.

“I’m only going to tell you this one more time,” I growled into his ear so only he could hear me. “Walk away or you’ll be carried away on a stretcher.”

He shrugged out of my grasp with a defeated grunt. By this point some of his friends made their way over from the pub where they’d no doubt been knocking back more than enough beers to last the rest of the weekend. They mumbled their apologies and led him down the street. I exhaled, muttering something about how nothing ever changes when I felt a presence behind me.

I didn’t turn. At least not at first.

“Maybe we should find another place. This looks a little too chaotic,” a male voice suggested.

“No way,” a female voice responded. “This is the final destination. Besides, you’ve been dying to meet Dawn and Ray for ages. You’ll love them.”

Americans.

I knew this voice. It was soft and compelling in its soothing melody.

Already thrown by the sound of her, I steadied myself and turned, and felt completely knocked down by the sight of the mystery woman from the side of the road.

Long, dark lashes framed green eyes that widened in a mix of disbelief and shock the moment she looked directly at me.

Her full, gloss covered lips parted slightly, then curved in a smile. Red gloss, like a blushing rose. The things I would do to that mouth. Unlike earlier when she had it tied back, her red hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. Her sexy body had curves for miles, begging to be explored.

As much as I enjoyed her sporty casual look earlier, this sweater dress enhanced her supple figure in so many enticing ways. I took my time exploring every curve, every piece of her that I could bite, kiss, and lick to make her squirm and scream my name. She didn’t shy away from my obvious staring. In fact, her cheeks flushed a subtle shade of pink.

Fuck. So many filthy, glorious things I could do to this gorgeous creature if she’d let me.

The two men standing with her didn’t notice our brief interaction. They whisked her into the pub with a flourish.

“Nothing like mixing it up with some pissed wanker,” Cade proclaimed, clapping me on the back. “Let’s head in. Bennet’s already at the bar.”

Black Rose Tavern buzzed with the low hum of conversation. For a Thursday night, it was crowded but not filled to the point where I’d have to question whether I was too old to keep coming out to places like this on purpose.

“Gentlemen,” Bennet Logan greeted us with a broad smile. He was older than Cade and I by a couple of years and often played the role of big brother to our endless, but affable, bickering. Not to mention his father owned the club we played for. Another year or two and Bennet would be running the show at Royal City Athletic.

“Sorry we’re late,” Cade said, reaching for a beer. “Had to handle a small problem at the door.”

Bennet shot us both a concerned look. “Oh?”

“Just some drunk who thought he was smarter than us.” I grinned, reaching for the other beer. “You’d think they’d have better things to do than hassle a couple of washed up footballers.”

“Speak for yourself, Maddox.” Cade knocked his glass against mine.

I shrugged, scanning the bar area. The restlessness that had been gnawing at me all night kicked into high gear. My body thrummed, operating on a frequency higher than I was used to. I managed to swallow it back and was on the verge of recollecting myself when she came into view.

Leaning against the bar with a carefree smile, she engaged in a spirited conversation with Dawn Halston, the co-owner. I’d been coming here long enough to recognize not only the regular faces, but also the husband and wife team who’ve been running the Black Rose Tavern for decades.

Seeing this mystery woman in a more relaxed state, rather than pacing around like her life depended on it, mesmerized me. She was, quite honestly, stunning.

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