Page 65 of Enticing the Enforcer
“Where’d you get that? In a horoscope?” I ask.
She leans into Reese’s side. “Wise words told to me by your captain.”
“Fuck, tell me he pissed on your leg after that?” Axel howls. “He did, didn’t he?”
“No.” Twyler grins. “But he did give me his hoodie emblazoned with his name.”
“I like that.” Ingrid grins, twirling her straw in her hands. “I may put it in a song.”
“Go for it,” Reese says, tipping back his beer. “I give you permission.”
I slip an arm around the back of her chair, protective, even though she doesn’t need me to be.
The conversation moves on to graduation in two weeks and summer plans. Ingrid and I stay close, thighs pressed together under the table, her laugh slipping into my shoulder every time the guys say something dumb. And fuck if the guys weren’t right. It’s nice–better than nice–having someone here who’s mine, instead of prowling for something quick and empty.
At some point, she leans back, lips shiny from the greasy burger she inhaled, eyes soft as they catch mine. “Thank you for showing me this,” she says, almost shy. “I never had a life like this. Mine was always work and carefully orchestrated play.”
“You’re welcome,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss her cheek. She smells like beer and fries and her expensive perfume, and I want to bottle the moment forever.
“That’s what I want this weekend to be about,” she adds. “Seeing your world.”
“Anyone up for darts?” Reid asks, sliding out of the booth. “There’s a free board.”
“Yes, please!” she says, rising up to follow him to the dart board in the corner. “You coming?”
“Let me finish this,” I say, pointing to my uneaten dinner. I’d been too focused on fun, focused on her to eat. “Go have fun.”
She flashes me a smile over her shoulder before disappearing into the little crowd near the dart board, and the table feels quieter without her beside me.
Reese lingers back, shoulders loose but eyes steady–Captain through and through. Stoic, calm. A leader at heart and the first out of all of us to fall hard.
“I like her for you,” Reese says, finishing his fries with a shrug like it’s no big deal.
“Thanks for your approval,” I retort, smirking, but it means something and he knows it.
“I heard the guys were giving you shit for being hesitant to commit, but don’t listen to them,” he says, leaning in a little. “You know I was afraid of falling into family footsteps. I was afraid I’d lose Twyler over hockey the way my dad and mom got divorced. So afraid I almost fucked things up big time. Axel ran like hell away from his oppressive and controlling father and found someone who accepts him for who he is. Shelby, too. And Reid? He was looking so hard for a stable family system that he almost settled for the wrong girl.”
He tips the pitcher, filling my glass and his until the last drops of beer slide out in a thin stream.
“Ingrid may not be the one,” Reese continues, “but she may be the one that shows you this is something you want. Fucking around, chasing sorority girls and puck bunnies is fun as hell, but nothing–” he holds my eyes, his voice firm, “and I meannothingcomes close to falling in love with your best friend.” He coughs into his fist. “Girlfriend, that is.”
“That’s some kind of speech, Cap.”
“Well, we’re running out of time, and I need to get them in while I can.” His grin is faint and a strange seriousness settles between us.
I lift my glass toward him. “Thanks. For everything. For being my best friend. For being an awesome team leader. I’m going to miss you.”
“Eh,” he says, grinning wider now, “I’ll see you on the ice. Don’t cry when I kick your ass.”
It’ll be crazy playing against one another, but I also can’t wait. The road ahead is exciting, and I can’t wait to get to it.
Across the room, I see Ingrid start toward the back hall where the bathrooms are located. I swallow the last of my beer and then cross the room. It’s dim back here, quieter, with the bass from the speakers thumping faintly through the walls. When she pushes open the bathroom door, I grab her wrist and tug her into the shadowed corner, pressing her back to the paneling.
Her brows lift, amused. “What’s this?”
I cage her in with my arms, leaning down until my lips hover over hers. “Part of college is getting drunk and making out in dark corners.”
Her laugh is a whisper against my mouth before I kiss her, hungry and messy, like I’ve been waiting all night to taste her. She hooks her fingers in my shirt, pulling me closer, and I let one hand slide into her hair, the other gripping her hip. She tastes like beer and salt, her mouth opening under mine likeshe was made for this. The world fades–no crowd, no noise, no spotlight–just her, pressed to the wall, kissing me like she doesn’t care if anyone walks by.
