Like I was looking for something from her.
Kyler stands taller, if that’s at all possible. He wraps an arm possessively around my hip and presses his lips to my temple, making it known that I belong to him.
I want to relax in Kyler’s embrace, but I probably look more like a deer in headlights and stiff as a surfboard.
“Brad Clemens,” the douche introduces himself, “I used to work with Ryan.” He holds out his hand to Kyler.
Kyler pauses a beat, casting a quick glance at me before shaking the douche’s hand. He doesn’t so much as tell him it’s nice to meet him, and while Kyler doesn’t know much about my short past with the bureau, he must sense my discomfort. “Kyler Greyson.”
“I know. I’ve seen you on the ice,” Brad says. “It’s quite impressive what you guys do out there, getting the shit kicked out of you and going back for seconds.”
Kyler is steaming and holding me tighter, possessively, like he can read my mind, which I know is impossible.
“Just part of the job,” Owen says, chiming in when Kyler doesn’t say a word.
The two men are having a stare-down, and I can’t help but wonder who will blink first. Or maybe one of them will growl.
It feels a bit animalistic, the heat between them. Kyler pulls me closer, and Brad flinches, his nostrils flaring as he takes in a deep breath of air through his nose.
Brad’s wife, Ainsley, tugs on his arm, quietly gesturing that she wants to move on and probably mingle with anyone else.
I don’t blame her.
I’d prefer Brad to get lost too.
Why the hell did he show up tonight?
Ainsley doesn’t meet my stare, her gaze landing anywhere else.
My stomach roils. How could Ainsley still be with him after I told her what happened? Clearly, she didn’t believe me. Just like my friends, former colleagues, and the rest of the bureau.
It was his word against mine.
“Brad.” Ainsley’s voice is soft as she tugs on his arm. “Perhaps we should meet with some of the other guests?”
Brad flinches and nods curtly. “Of course. It was nice seeing you again,” he says, his gaze landing on me.
I don’t say a word because if I do, I know I’d tell him off and give him the finger. The minute he turns away with Ainsley and heads in the opposite direction, I exhale a heavy breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“Asshole,” Kyler growls a bit too loudly in Brad’s direction.
“Excuse me?” Brad spins around, having overheard Kyler’s remark.
Kyler lunges at Brad, but Coach Malone jumps in, along with Owen, to intervene before there’s a full-blown fight breaking out at the gala.
“Walk away,” Malone shouts at Brad, pushing him backward and in the opposite direction. Ainsley is right on Brad’s hip, pulling him farther from Kyler.
“What the hell was that?” Owen asks, stealing my question before I have the chance to voice it.
“Nothing,” Kyler huffs under his breath.
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me,” Coach Malone says after Brad takes the hint and heads off in the opposite direction. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, Greyson, but now is not the time to be starting shit with cameras around. Go take a walk.”
Several guests have their phones in hand, and I can’t help but wonder how much of that interaction was recorded and will be uploaded to the internet.
Kyler grumbles under his breath, releasing his hold from me as he storms off in the opposite direction of Brad. I clear my throat, force a smile, and hurry after him.
He storms out through a back exit, and I’m seconds behind him, following him outside.