Chapter 18

We get there in nine minutes.

Throwing my car into park directly in front of the bar, Zach and I hop out, immediately attracting attention from those smoking and loitering outside. Ideally, I shouldn't park my car in public sight, but I'm done caring. I just want to get inside.

"Step it down a gear, buddy." Zach plants his palm on my shoulder, halting my advance toward the entrance. "You can't head in there all guns blazing. You and I both know she's understated and won't appreciate the captain of the Scorpions flying in to stake his claim."

I deflate because he's right. I need to relax and while I still have no claim over her, the thought of her talking or even flirting with another man ignites a fire, singeing me from the inside.

The bar is absolutely heaving, bodies everywhere, but thankfully, security recognizes us immediately and escorts us to a reserved booth at the back. I fully expect to see Felicity with the rest of the team, but she's nowhere to be seen. Kate is, though, sitting next to Jensen, the pair of them getting close.

"Where is she?" I ask Kate. I know I sound like a dick, but that seems to be my default these days when it comes to my girl and making sure she's okay.

"Well, hello to you, too." Kate waves a sarcastic hand in front of me, and Jensen snickers next to her. This girl has sass in spades, and it might just be that our goalie's met his match.

I pull at the back of my neck, trying to steady myself. "Yeah, sorry, I just want to make sure she's okay. It's packed with God knows who in here."

"She's fine," Kate drawls, tipping her glass in the direction of the bar. "She's ordering a?—"

My feet are carrying me over there before Kate can finish her sentence.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," I tell the tall blond guy next to me. He's offered me a drink at least three times since I've been standing here waiting.

"Did you go to the game today?" Blond Guy persists.

"Yeah, I did. Intense game," I reply, trying to sound friendly but uninterested. In my thirty-nine years, it's a skill I've yet to master.

All I want is to get my Cosmo and head back to the booth to wait for Jon. It's been at least ten minutes since he called, so he can't be far away now.

"You here on your own?" Another question from my new friend.

I peer up at him, braving potential eye contact. He's a good-looking guy, maybe a couple of years older than me. He catches my gaze and moves closer behind me, his front pressed up against my back. At a similar height to Jon, this guy towers over me, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little intimidated. "No, I have my friends here with me."

The girl in front of me finishes getting served, and I thankfully have space to move forward, but that means nothing to this guy, as he simply steps forward maintaining the distance between us, which is nothing, nada.

He leans over my shoulder, his nose almost nuzzled in my hair, as he sets his empty beer glass down on the bar.

"I don't see them." His tone is almost suggestive, and I can smell the alcohol on his breath. My stomach turns at his presence; I need to get out of here.

"They're right here." A deep, familiar voice cuts through my discomfort, enveloping me in a sense of safety.

It's Jon.

When I turn to face him, he's right behind me, the blond guy having taken several steps back. His eyes are soft but wear a sense of concern behind them like he's silently asking if I'm okay. I nod, reassuring him I'm fine.

Blond Guy's eyes have bugged out at the sight of Jon, clearly having a hard time processing that the captain of the Scorpions is standing right in front of him.

Jon places a firm arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. His eyes are dark and possessive, leaving no doubt who I am to him.

"She's here with her boyfriend. Me." Jon's voice is hard and unwavering. Boyfriend. That singular word ignites my core, sending shock waves throughout my body.

Calm down, Felicity; he's just playing it up to make a point to this creep.

"You okay, baby?" Jon asks me in a gentle voice.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just been waiting to get a drink for an age." I gesture to the crowd all pushing to get to the bar.

My bag starts buzzing, and I reach in to fetch out my phone. It's Elliott, again. I send him a template message saying I'll call him later. He's really stepping his contact up today, and I know I can't keep holding him off forever.

Jon's brow furrows when I disconnect the call. I don't know if he saw who it was, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, his hand travels to my lower back, and he dips his chin, hovering it above my head. "Leave the drink with me. I got it." And with that, he lifts his hand in the air toward one of the bar staff, who immediately looks up, almost like they knew he was there all along."Cosmo for my girl please, buddy. Over there." Jon points to the booth I vacated what feels like hours ago.

"You got it," the barman shouts.

I turn to look at Jon, an incredulous expression on my face. He smiles at me before leading me back to the booth, his fingers interlaced with mine. "Don't wander off on your own in bars, Angel. There are pervy guys around," he whispers softly in my ear as we take a seat opposite Zach, Kate, and Jensen.

"Pervy guys like you?" I playfully respond. Okay, I'm full-on flirting, but no judgment, please. I've got Jon freaking Morgan's hand round my waist and his lips tickling my ear.

"These eyes are only for you, and for the record, I'm the only guy who should be checking you out." He pauses and then continues, "I don't know if I mentioned it, but you look beautiful tonight."

I'm unraveling right before him. Every last shred of willpower to resist this smooth-talking man is deserting me.

"Zach, all okay, man?" Jensen breaks me from my Jon-induced trance.

Zach is staring ahead past mine and Jon's shoulder, his eyes flaming with an emotion I can't quite make out. He doesn't look happy though, not at all.

"Zach?" Jon tries to get through to him, to no avail.

I peek over my shoulder and spot a group of girls on the dancefloor, the vast majority being tall, blonde, with legs for days. Stunning.

"Ah, shit."

"W-what is it?" I ask Jon, slightly concerned.

"Amie," he drawls but doesn't add anything else.

"Who's Amie?" Kate interjects, looking as confused as I feel.

"My ex." Zach's tone is harsh, bordering on angry. His eyes are still boring into the group of girls dancing and gyrating against each other.

"I'm gonna head to the bathroom," I say to Jon. I need a reprieve from the tension that's building around the table.

"Want me to come?" Kate asks.

"No, it's fine, babe, but thanks." I grab my bag, feeling a little squeeze from Jon's hand around my waist as he lets me go, and I make my way to the bathroom.

Pushing through the door, the cooler air from the partially open window hits me. It feels nice and refreshing, a stark contrast to the sweltering heat radiating from the main bar area. I don't need to use the bathroom; instead, I use it as an excuse to take a breather from the intensity. I decide to use the time productively though and reapply my lip gloss and blush.

I'm halfway through my refresh when the bathroom door flies open. A tall scantily clad blonde I half recognize from the dancefloor stands before me, a snide smirk pulling at her red pouty mouth.

"So, you're flavor of the month then."

I place the cap back on my lip gloss and turn to look at her properly, checking she's definitely talking to me. I've never seen this woman before tonight, and she finds it necessary to speak to me like this.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh my god, you're British too." The last part she attempts to say in her best posh British accent, sounding more ridiculous than anything else.

"Yes, I'm British, and?" Seriously, who does this woman think she is?

"Well," she scoffs, "you must be some sort of princess to nail down Jon Morgan."

"I'll take that as a compliment, thanks," I respond, my tone sounding unimpressed. "But I'm not nailing down anyone. I'm here with my friends."

The girl's eyes grow wider with frustration. "Oh, come on. We've all seen footage from tonight's game. What did you do, get knocked up so he had to take you on? You're hardly his type." Her eyes trace over my body, a look of disdain on her face. "Jon goes for more…" she waves her hand in front of her, "glamorous women."

I draw in a sharp breath, shaking my head in a pitiful manner at her pathetic display. "Look, whoever you?—"

"Amie," she interjects curtly.

"Amie," ah Amie, Zach's ex—it"s all making sense now. "Look, Amie, I'm way past my days of catty exchanges in dingy bar bathrooms, and I'm certainly way past caring what you or any of your friends might think of me. I'm here to enjoy a nice evening celebrating a Scorpions win. So please, if you wouldn't mind." I point to the door, indicating my wish to leave. She doesn't move though, instead remaining in front of the bathroom door.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Amie throws out as she finally steps aside, letting me make my leave.

I turn back to her, halfway out the door. "Warn me of what?" I'm exasperated now, fed up with her games, and ready to get back to Jon and the group.

"Of Jon. He has a different woman in his bed every night, always has and always will." She struts over to the mirrors, pulling out her scarlet lipstick and applying another coat."No one ever keeps him for long." She huffs out a laugh. "Just ask half the girls in this bar or Sarah and Bryony. They're out with me tonight; I'm sure they can vouch for his ways." She pauses, catching my eye in the reflection. "Sure, he's a good time, but you don't actually think he wants you for more than that, do you?" she mocks in a patronizing tone. "Aww, you did. Cute."

I shake my head at her before turning to leave, letting the door slam behind me. Fucking bitch. Yeah, Zach is better off for being shot of her.

But as I make my way back to the private booth area, I can't help but feel the weight of her words sink into my skin, taking residence in my consciousness. They can vouch for his ways.

Amie's friends are still dancing when I take a seat, some guys having joined their gyrating session. I wonder who Sarah and Bryony are and whether they've slept with Jon or if it's just mind games from Amie. Either way, my thirty-nine years tell me she screams trouble.

Today has been a long and trying day. I just want to go home and get away from the hordes of people. I need peace and quiet and the safety of my apartment.

"All okay?" Jon asks as the back of his hand brushes the top of my arm, setting off another wave of goosebumps across my skin.

"Can you take me home, please?" I ask, turning to him. My voice is laced with more emotion than I intended, but it's all too much today. Kissing Jon this morning, the game, the attention from the crowd, the calls from Elliott, the guy at the bar, and now Amie.

His brows knit together with concern etched across his face. "Yeah, sure. Anything you need." He downs the rest of his drink, and I stand, pulling on my jacket.

"What's happened, babe?" Kate asks. My face must be giving away more than I hoped.

"Honestly, I'm fine, just tired," I lie.

"I'll text you," she offers, and I nod, smiling weakly at her.

And then Jon's leading me out of the bar, tucked under his protective arm.