Page 5 of The Rival (Looking to Score 2)
“Yo, Alex,” a familiar voice calls from down the hall. “I’ll be on the balcony.”
I catch sight of Price St. James, otherwise known as Saint, one of our defensemen, a bottle of beer in each of his huge hands and an easy smile on his face. He begins climbing the stairs to an upper level where low-slung loveseats and plush chairs await.
I grit my teeth behind a tight, closed-lip smile. Maybe I should keep tabs on the team tonight. At least it would give me something to do other than wallow. I could make sure they don’t get too drunk and end up plastered on the tabloid headlines like—
“I’ll be there in a sec.”
Like Alex. If I were up to that task tonight, he’d be the one I’d be worried about.
Last season was a mess for him with all the drinking, the fighting, the garbage plays . . . the girls he was seen with at clubs just like this one. At one point, Eden believed he was punishing her for their breakup, which seemed likely, given his track record for being . . . well, not a great guy.
Is that why he’s here tonight? To punish Eden? Kind of a ballsy move showing up to your ex’s engagement party.
“So, where were we?” Alex focuses back on me with a jerk of his chin. “Recouping from what?”
“I’m really fine.” I drain the rest of my drink, avoiding direct eye contact.
“Look, I get it.” He sighs, waving absently with one hand. “Engagement parties aren’t exactly fun. It sucks watching dumbasses in love. Especially when one of them is your ex.”
Okay, weird. This is a side of Alex I don’t recognize. At. All.
It didn’t occur to me that he would be having a hard time too. Maybe he’s more three-dimensional than I gave him credit for when he was, well, just a two-dimensional villain in all the tabloids and social media sites. I guess it’s kind of heartless to think that I’m love’s only casualty.
“Alex, I’m s—”
“Wanna go upstairs with me?”
I blink, my mind flitting back to the terrors of navigating dirty fraternity houses, where that exact question marked the beginning of the best and worst four years of my life. “Upstairs?”
He lifts a brow. “The balcony. Unless you’re looking to get back to the happy couple—or wanting to continue that phone call with your mom.”
“Oh.” I let out a little gasp, shaking my head.
Alex smiles at me then, his lips quirking like he’s trying not to laugh at me.
Please don’t. Not tonight.
And he doesn’t. He just smiles and offers me his elbow. “Let’s go.”
For some reason, I tuck my hand into the curve of his strong arm, letting him lead me back to the bar. He orders a drink for each of us—another gin and ginger for me, an IPA for him—and he even pays. I try not to overthink the gesture, reminding myself that my reaction to his chivalry is because I’m starved for attention these days.
“You remember Aspen,” Alex says as we approach.
“Aspen,” Saint says in a singsongy way. “Aspen, Aspen. What a name. What’s it mean?” he asks, squinting.
Do all the blue-eyed boys flock together just to make me nervous?
“Quaking tree.” I settle into the loveseat opposite Saint, while Alex leans against the handrail.
“Aw, Scaredy Sprout.” Saint laughs, turning to Alex for affirmation, but the centerman just nods, a frown deepening above his strong, stubbled chin.
“Well, it’s pretty. It suits you.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling a little delirious. A little outnumbered.
Saint claps his hands. “Ha. That reminds me. Dude, another healthy-eating company DM’d me.”
Alex shakes his head in disbelief, finally settling into a chair beside mine. “Another?”
“Yeah, they want me to promo some green smoothie on Instagram.” Saint fakes a gag for effect.
“Are they local?” I ask, my interest piqued. My voice doesn’t sound quite like my own. “You should talk to Eden about it. Maybe she’s heard of them.”
Saint smirks. “Oh, come on. I always had a hunch you were the fun little sister. Don’t go dashing my dreams now.”
That famous smile miraculously does nothing for me. “I can be fun while still thinking about what’s best for the team’s image.” I glance over at Alex, who averts his gaze.
“Oof, all right, point taken.” Saint lifts his palms in surrender, and I smile. “I don’t have time to take on another brand sponsorship anyway. I mean, sure, it’s money, but I want no obligations this summer other than the ones I’m already committed to, ya feel me?”
“Speaking of the off-season, got any summer plans?” Alex asks, eyeing me as he takes a swig of his beer.
“Looking for a new place to live, mostly,” I say. “I can’t stay with my boss and her new fiancé forever.”
Both men’s eyes go wide. Great. I momentarily forgot I’m the queen of oversharing to unsuspecting parties.
