Page 56 of Captain's Claim

“I’m fine.” I poke at his chest. Not my smartest move, considering it’s like prodding a slab of granite. "Come on, have a drink with us."

His jaw tightens. “You’re done.”

I lean in closer, batting my long lashes at him, looping a finger in the collar of his shirt, letting my voice drop just a little. "Please… for me."

His eyes flick to my mouth, and for a split second, I think I've won. The corner of his lips twitches, and a familiar heat flashes behind that stormy gaze.

Victory.

I smirk, already turning back to the bartender. “We’ll have—”

Blake reaches past me, his broad chest brushing against mine as he leans over the bar. “She’ll have half-strength from now on.”

My mouth falls open.

The bartender nods like this is entirely normal behavior, already reaching for a new bottle.

Natalie bursts into laughter beside me, actually doubling over, slapping the bar.

“Oh my God, youthought—” She gasps between cackles. “You really thought—” Another wheeze. “You couldflirtyour way out of it!”

I whip back to Blake, gaping like a goldfish. “Youabsolutemenace.”

His smirk is pure, smug satisfaction. “Drink your watered-down cocktail, sweetheart. Then I'm taking you home."

I shove my glass toward Blake with unnecessary force, scowling as I push off the bar. “I don’t need you babysitting me, Maddox.”

Blake doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just watches me with that unreadable expression, the one that makes my stomach twist and my clit throb at the memory of that tongue and how it felt against my heat.

Natalie, already three drinks deep, sighs dramatically beside me. “Oh my God, just let the man take you home, babe. He’s obviously dying to.”

I whip my head toward her. “Excuse me?”

She grins, stirring her already half-finished drink with her straw. “Sweetheart, the man has been watching you like a security camera all night. Lap it up.”

Blake exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, looking like he’s on the verge of praying for patience.

“I’m not dying to do anything,” he mutters. “I just don’t feel like scraping you off the sidewalk when you inevitably trip over those damn heels.”

“Oh, well, thank you for your concern,” I bite out, yanking my coat off the chair. “And if I say no?”

He grins, slow and lazy, like he already knows he’s won.

“You won’t.”

I narrow my eyes. “You’re so cocky.”

He leans in, just enough to make my pulse hiccup. “And you’re tipsy in a bar full of hockey fans who love you right now.” His lips twitch. “Think you’ll make it out without a victory lap?”

My stomach plummets. Because oh God. He’s right.

"Fine. Escort me home, Captain Overprotective."

Blake doesn’t gloat. He doesn't dismiss it either. He just shrugs.

“Smart choice, sweetheart.”

And then, with zero warning, his hand finds the small of my back, guiding me toward the door, the crowd parting around us, murmuring and whispering as their beloved captain leaves with the girl from the viral video that has somehow turned me into their new favorite flavor.

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