Page 6 of War

She reaches over Sara and slides the dirty martini down the bar. She takes one long sip before plucking the stick of olives out of the glass and biting one off.

With a sigh, she finally turns her attention to us, smiles, and holds out her hand. “Hi, I’m Hannah.”

Nowshe’sa total Samantha. Immediately, I love her.

“This is Ava,” Sara says, her voice infused with excitement. “And she’s just accepted a job with the Langfields.”

“Please tell me you’re not Beckett’s new nanny.” The woman hits me with a glare I don’t understand.

Sara rolls her eyes. “She’s working in charitable relations. Besides, we all know Beckett is too much of a control freak to have a nanny.”

Hannah bites off the other olive. “That man is the bane of my existence. If you don’t know it yet, he’s as controlling as they come.” She says this directly to me. “Owning the baseball team isn’t enough. He has to micromanage all of us too.”

“He’s a little better now that he’s fallen in love with Liv.” Sara turns toward me. “Liv is our boss.” She waves between herself and Hannah. “She’s the best. She and Beckett got married in Vegas a few months ago.” She leans in closer, her eyes darting around, as if to confirm she won’t be overheard. “Between you and me, I’m pretty sure it was a drunken mistake, but god, is that man gone for her.”

Hannah’s lips turn up, the expression a little sardonic. “Thank god for that. He’s finally letting that poor woman stay home with her kids rather than travel with the Revs to every away game. Drunken mistake or not, that Vegas wedding means I’m officially the new Liv.”

“And I’m the other new Liv.” Sara shimmies her shoulders. “So where are you living?”

“Um,” I hedge. I just met these women. Should I be giving up that kind of information? If they’re my coworkers, it’s okay, right? “At 2018 Langfield Way.”

Sara bounces so exuberantly she almost slides off her stool. “Ah, she’s our neighbor too. It’s nice, right?”

“If you don’t mind all the Neanderthals in the gym in the morning,” Hannah drawls.

That comment instantly sends my mind whirling to my interaction several hours ago. To Tyler.

The best thing about the apartment, other than it being rent-free, is the gym. And not because I’m huge on exercise. No, the best part about it was the studio in the back. The room with mirrors and a beautiful waxed floor with the long barre along the edge.

A spot to dance.

For years, ballet was my only solace.

After two lonely days where I constantly questioned my decision to move to Boston, discovering the quiet room felt like a sign that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

I immediately texted my sister a picture of the space, then I found the right playlist and lost myself for over an hour. Until I looked up and saw the man with piercing blue eyes. Eyes I instantly wanted to study for hours so I could describe their shade exactly. He wore black fitted sweats and a tight black T-shirt that showcased the most defined body I’d ever seen. And tattoos. So many tattoos.

Despite being alone with a stranger, a sense of calm settled over me. It was clear he’d been watching me, yet it didn’t scare me.

Maybe it was because I’d been doing the one thing I loved. Maybe it was because I had promised myself that this year would be different. That I would be different. I’d take risks. Take chances.

Whatever the motivation, I didn’t sink into myself. Instead, I channeled my inner Samantha and held strong, not giving an inch even while I knew he would take a mile.

“See something you like?”

The man’s lips curved up into a lascivious smirk that made my skin heat beneath my white leotard. I didn’t allow myself to cower as he surveyed me. He’d already checked out my ass, that much I knew. With the way the leotard cut high on my thighs, he probably got an eyeful. And if he looked down, he’d probably see my nipples pebbling against the thin fabric.

“Very much so.”

“They’re not Neanderthals, they’re hockey players.” Sara’s voice interrupts my memory.

Blinking rapidly, I lean forward. “Hockey players?”

Hannah sighs. “Yeah. They only occupy four floors, but they act like they own the building.”

“Four floors is more than enough for me,” Sara chirps.

My heart stutters. Oh god. Tyler couldn’t be…he didn’t seem…oh no. He so did seem like a hockey player. The muscles. The cockiness. The swagger.

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