Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ella
"Yo, Patches!" Lake calls when Riggs walks into the bar. "Bring us another round!"
My heart skips a beat.
I haven't seen him since this morning.
And he's just as yummy as always.
Even when he scowls—and I don't know if it's because of the order from his teammate, or if it's because of his new nickname. Shit talk amongst hockey players is relentless…and the strip of bald skin on the back of Riggs's head is an easy target.
Thus…Patches was born at practice today.
I know it's not my finest work, but I'm over my mess up.
Sort of.
I still can't believe it happened, and every time I see my handiwork I'm filled with a hysterical sort of amusement. But it should grow in quickly and, well…
Riggs didn't rage at me for fucking up his hair.
He could have.
Some might say he should have.
Instead, he was nice about it—taking my hand and snagging the clippers, turning them off and setting them on the counter. Then drawing me close and cupping my cheeks in his palms as I'd sputtered on and on with apologies.
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry. I can fix it. I promise. I can make it look okay ? —"
He kissed me gently, murmured in my ear, "I don't give a fuck about my hair. It'll grow back, chérie. And look at the top" —he positioned me in front of him, forced me to gaze into the mirror—" it's the shit."
While I was processing that, he ripped the cape off, tossed it on the chair, and had kissed me long enough that I forgot all about my fuck up.
Likely because he took me home, didn't wait for an invitation to come upstairs, then had fucked me senseless.
Then fucked me limp again when he woke me in the morning—at five fucking A.M.
The sun hadn't even been up.
But he sure as hell had been.
Heh.
I grin.
"So," Nova murmurs from next to me, deep into her third mule. I'm still sipping on my first for…reasons I'm pretending aren't affecting my reasoning but have everything to do with what Riggs shared and what I want to happen when I talk my way into testing out his mattress instead of mine tonight.
"So what?" I ask casually.
"When are you going to explain?"
"Explain what?" I slap on my most innocent expression—which has Knox snorting from his position next to Lake, even though most of his focus is on a gaggle of women at the next table over.
"I second that snort," Nova says, allowing Lake to draw her more firmly into his body. "Did you forget that we saw you two leave together the other night?"
"Nope," I say, popping the p and taking a dainty sip of my mule when usually I would have drained the copper mug, if only to have an excuse to head up to the bar for a refill. "But I still don't know what you might possibly want me to explain."
Kit, who's joined us for the first time—likely for reconnaissance purposes—chokes on a laugh and I glare at him, but only for a second.
He is, after all, the one who got into the salon early this morning and swept up the evidence of my hairtastrophe then deleted the footage of Riggs's X-rated kiss—and the subsequent moments that led to it—from the security cameras positioned in the corners of the space.
Though, I do have a copy of it saved that he texted me.
It's as hot as I remember and—I mentally wince—it clearly shows off my poor clippering skills.
Luckily, I don't have to make up any more lies because then Riggs is there, a tray in his capable hands. He plunks down a beer in front of Knox and Lake, a mule in front of Kit and Nova and…me.
Stilling, I look up at him, eyes going wide.
Then wider when he tugs my chair back, lifts me from the pleather-covered cushion, sits and plunks me into his lap.
It happens in a manner of just a few seconds, but just like that, I'm surrounded by warm, hot Riggs.
His hand settles on my hip and I blink.
At him.
At Lake, who's smirking like the handsome, smug bastard he is.
At Knox, who's completely unfazed that his sister was just manhandled by his teammate and is currently occupying said teammate's lap. In fact, he just lifts his beer at Riggs in a salute that has me narrowing my eyes before he refocuses on the women nearby.
So, I return to blinking at Riggs.
Who's as quiet as usual in this public arena—and I haven't missed that he's positively chatty when he's alone with me, especially when he's discussing all of the body parts of mine that he likes and how he's planning on using them and—well, there's a lot of mention of slick heat and pretty pink and?—
"Behave," he mutters, leaning in and nipping at the hinge of my jaw.
I realize that I've been rocking slightly on his lap, and that he's now hard beneath me.
Okay, so this sitting-on-his-lap stuff might have even better side effects than previously thought—and being surrounded in warm, strong Riggs, while his scent fills my nose and his voice rumbles against my back is pretty damned good.
But feeling the rigid length of his erection beneath my ass is…well, that's definitely a bonus.
A big bonus.
Heh.
"I'm just saying," I murmur, rocking back and not missing that his hand tightens on my hip, that a soft growl reverberates through his chest and into my back.
"You're not saying anything, chérie ," he says when I don't go on, clamping that hand tighter, drawing me more firmly against him.
"Maybe not with words." I rock slightly, feel his cock twitch.
Okay, so actually this lap-sitting thing is pretty fucking great.
"And you're not using your words either," I go on, twisting so I can lift my lips to his ear, "especially with your caveman antics."
He leans in even closer, his voice damp puffs of air on my skin. "I think I made it clear that I intend to claim what's mine."
I shiver, heart rolling over in my chest.
If I was holding a pair of scissors…well, hair would have to watch out.
"Riggs," I whisper.
"I've got you," he says. "And I'm not going anywhere."
I still.
I want that.
God, how I want that.
But…I've heard it before—and then my mom passed and my dad got remarried and…well, we went from solid, from peaceful and happy and the place every one of our friends wanted to hang out to…alone.
To left behind.
So yeah, I've heard it before.
The only people in my life who've stuck are Nova and Knox.
But there's something about the way Riggs says it…
I want to believe it.
His hand strokes in, drifting up the inside of my thigh.
Gasping, I grab his wrist. "Did you forget that my brother's sitting at this table?" I tell him, even as I'm playing with fire, as I'm settling more firmly on the length of his cock.
He hisses, snags my hip and holds me still. "Your brother is the one who got my head out of my ass about you in the first place."
I blink at him, albeit in shock this time.
Then turn to Knox, who's still watching the group of women at the next table over. Though, I don't miss that half of his mouth is curved up.
" I'm the matchmaker."
That's my freaking job.
"It's in the Adler DNA." He lifts one shoulder, drops it. "Plus, I think Riggs is one of the few men who can handle you."
The PDA, the caveman antics that I can't deny I love, my brother fixing me up to be handled.
That's one step too far.
I lean back, narrowing my eyes at my brother. "Excuse me?"
He tosses back the rest of his beer, stands. "Time to go."
And then he's off, moving to the women, schmoozing like only my brother can.
"I'm going to fucking kill him," I snap, jumping to my feet.
"Shit," Riggs mutters, dragging me back down. "Don't be pissed. I've had a thing for you from the beginning"—he leans around me, snags my gaze—"remember? From the first moment I met you."
The hot looks from afar?
The ones that gave me many a nocturnal—and otherwise—orgasm in response to the memories of that scorching gaze?
Yeah, I remember.
Still, I don't soften my glare. "And?"
His mouth ticks up. " And I wouldn't have allowed myself to get this far," he says softly. "For reasons ." His throat works as guilt slices through me. He's gone soft beneath me, and his hand loosens on my hip. "Not without Knox giving me the green light."
Damn. I had to ruin this moment by opening my big mouth. "Riggs," I begin, shoving the mule he'd brought over away when I nearly take it out with my elbow.
His eyes flick to the copper mug then back to mine, and he reaches forward, brings it closer. "Drink it, chérie . I'm not going to control what you do."
No, he'd just find a way to grin and bear it—or grind his teeth together and bury it. " Riggs."
"Baby," he murmurs. "Drink the fucking cocktail. It's different. I see you?—"
"And I see you ," I say, shoving it away again. The pain he'd bared. Pain I won't ignore. I can soothe life's rough edges with orgasms and empty calories from more apple fritters.
I'll be fine.
" Chérie —"
"No," I snap.
"I'll drink it!" Nova says, scooping up the mug and sipping at it triumphantly. "I'm certainly not going to allow my rosemary simple syrup to go to waste," she tells Lake, curling into his side.
The big man smiles at her before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course not, butterfly."
And my heart rolls over in my chest, yearning heavy in my blood.
And panic.
There's a healthy dose of panic as well.
Because…
Turning down drinks. Sitting in his lap. Yearning for him when he isn't with me.
We've barely begun and I'm already in fucking deep.
I jump up again, but this time I must have taken Riggs by surprise because he doesn't yank me back down, and by the time he reaches for me, I'm skittering out of range.
" Chérie ."
"I'll be right back."
And then I'm pushing through the crowd, turning down the hall, and bursting out onto the bar's deserted back patio.
No one uses it in the winter, so it's not cleared of snow and I skid on the icy planks, nearly go down, but manage to stay on my feet, just barely.
Cold air hits my skin in a rush, but I barely feel it.
My head is spinning and my lungs are tight and?—
"Breathe, chérie ."
My lungs decide to start working again, and I suck in a breath, release it slowly.
"I won't hurt you," I whisper.
Not like I've been hurt.
I can't. I can't ?—
"You're not going to hurt me," he says, cupping my cheek and stepping close.
How can he know that? How can he? It's like his promise to be here, to stay here. We might have the best intentions, but?—
"Ella," he says, wrapping his arms around me. "You have the biggest heart I've ever seen. You care about people and you pay attention?—"
"I've already hurt you."
He goes still for a heartbeat then. "And when you found out you stopped doing it, but I don't need you to change for me, baby. I like you as you are. And I know you like this—hanging with your friends and tying one on?—"
My lungs expand in a rush this time, oxygen hitting my blood so quickly that black spots gather at the edges of my vision.
"—so eat, drink, and be merry. It might take me a bit to be comfortable with how we end our night after all those mules, but we'll find a way."
Get comfortable .
Jesus.
My stomach twists all over again.
"Riggs," I say softly. "I don't want you to have to get comfortable."
His expression gentles. "And I don't want you to make yourself smaller for some bullshit that doesn't really matter."
It matters.
It fucking matters , but before I can push that—even though this isn't the time or place—he keeps talking, his lips brushing my earlobe and making me shiver, making me forget why this argument is so damned important.
"And we might need to thank your brother because I wouldn't have touched you—here or anywhere—without Knox giving me the push." He brushes his knuckles over my cheek. "As beautiful and tempting as you are."
My heart feels like fluffy cotton candy—soft and sweet and so light it can float—but at risk of dissolving with the barest bit of liquid.
And below it?
That's what frightens me.
Which is why I revert to joking. "I would have worn you down."
His mouth curves, and it's almost a normal smile, but he doesn't tease me back, just kisses the tip of my nose. "Likely."
I start to say something else, to tease him until that smile is absent of the tinge of the past, but before the words can dance off the tip of my tongue, the door slams open, crashing into the wall of the patio.
We both jump.
And see a woman stumble out.
I start to turn back to Riggs to tell him we should go back to the table.
But then I process the woman's state.
Her dress is torn, her makeup is running from tears streaming down her face, and?—
A man is crowding in behind her.
And Riggs…
Well, Riggs falls apart.