Page 8 of Mr. Broody

“Yeah, I heard there could be snow tomorrow.” She sips her whiskey and licks her bottom lip after she swallows. Fuck, she’s still so mesmerizing that she captivates all my attention.

“Hey! Alvin and the Chipmunks, get outside. There’s a table of three ladies out there, and one’s wearing a birthday sash. They want some hockey dick tonight,” Tweetie shouts across the room.

“I’m not gonna pass that up,” Simon says. He’s part of the trio who got tagged with the nickname because they’re inseparable. It was a twist of fate that they all got brought up to the Falcons after playing junior league together.

Jade’s eyes stray from mine for the first time since she walked into the back room, and I want to throw Tweetie to the floor for stripping her attention off me.

“Speaking of… I should probably go. I told Chelsea I’d watch Aubrie tonight. It’s her twenty-first birthday.” She steps back, and panic squeezes the air from my lungs.

God no, she can’t leave now.

Jade must be following Simon with her eyes, and I’d be a moron not to figure out he’s about to walk by us. I hold my arm out to stop him before he passes.

“What’s up, Daddy?” Simon asks.

I turn away from Jade, and just as they always are, the trio is lined up one after the other, following Tweetie’s instructions. I stare down each of them.

“Listen, Aubrie, the birthday girl, is really fucking important to me. If anything bad happens to her, believe me, you do not want to hear from her mom. So, you’re all her fucking babysitters tonight.”

“Henry,” Jade says, figuring out quickly that now that she’s in front of me, I’m not letting her out of my sight. At least for as long as she’ll allow.

“If word gets back to me—and it will—that one of you didn’t keep an eye on her, and make sure she makes it back to her apartment safe and sound—alone—you’ll deal with me.” I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and dig out a few hundred dollars. “Show her a good time.”

Simon smiles at his friends behind him. “You got it.” Swiping the money from my hand, he steps forward, but he’s stopped by Jade.

“When he says show her a good time, that doesn’t mean with your dick.” She raises those eyebrows that always draw up when she’s pissed.

“I’m not sure who’s scarier,” Theo mumbles.

They all skirt around Jade and me, disappearing through the door into the main part of the bar.

“Want to have a seat?” I ask, gesturing to the table for two along the wall.

“Are you sure you can trust them?” she asks.

“Do you think I’d chance Chelsea coming at me with a butcher knife?” I swipe my beer from the big round table in the middle of the room, earning a few curious glances and one big smirk from Rowan.

She’s already sitting on a stool across from the one I slide on. “I’m sorry.”

That could mean a lot of things.

“I shouldn’t have let Tweetie bait me back here, and I shouldn’t be ruining your night.” She sips her drink and stares into the glass, moving it around in her hand.

Is she for real? Jade’s the best part of my night. She just made my mediocre night feel like we made the playoffs.

“It’s good to see you,” I say because fuck… it is. It’s been three long years since I’ve seen those dark eyes that I swear see into my soul. But it’s the way my body feels around her. It’s not a feeling I can explain.

She gives me a wan smile. “You look good.”

My eyes lock with hers. “You look beautiful.”

Her gaze returns to her glass. “I hate how weird this is.”

“I know.” And it is, but I’m positive we can get back to being friends now that she’s here. “Listen, when I?—”

“Not here.” She shakes her head and glances to where my teammates and friends are.

She’s right, this is a conversation for another time, but I can’t help but worry that there won’t be another time.

---