Chapter Ten

GRACE

“Isn’t this place awesome?” Carson says as we make our way to our table. “The whole team likes to come here to hang out.”

I look around and take in the hockey memorabilia and framed posters crowding the walls. I want to roll my eyes and groan, but I hold back and just take a long drink of my beer instead. Carson and I are sitting side-by-side together. I can tell he frequents this bar a lot, even if he hadn’t said anything, because everyone seems to know him. The bartender greeted him by name when we came in, the waitresses are flirting and teasing him, and other patrons occasionally stop by to talk with him.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “It’s pretty… cool.”

Carson grins and shakes his head. “It’s all right. You don’t have to pretend you like the place, but I’m glad you came out tonight.”

I shrug and smile. “No, no, it’s all right. Besides the hockey stuff everywhere, the vibe is pretty chill.”

“That’s quite amicable of you, sis,” Carson teases.

I nod. “I know. Hey, you and I should talk about some of the posts I’m going to put out in the next few weeks. I’ve gotten some really good footage of you on the ice, but I’d like to get some posed pics for Instagram?—”

He waves his hand dismissively and says, “Oh, that can wait, can’t it? We’re here to relax and have fun! We don’t need to talk about work right now.”

I shoot him an annoyed look and sigh. “Fine, what do you want to talk about then?”

“So, what’d you think of practice today?”

“I thought you said no work talk!” I exclaim.

He grins sheepishly and shrugs.

My mind instantly recalls the hit Jensen took and how painful it looked. For a moment, after seeing him hit the ice, I’d felt real panic that he’d been hurt. It’d been a relief when he’d gotten back up and had appeared fine, but that moment of fear had caught me off guard.

“That hit Jen…I mean, Reece took looked pretty hard,” I say. “Was he all right?”

Carson nods, seeming not to have caught my slipup with Jensen’s name. It would be a little weird if I called Jensen by his first name when Carson only calls him by his last, and I’m supposed to have just met him.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” he tells me. “I think it was just a bit of a shock to him. The guy doesn’t get taken down like that often. I talked to him after practice just to check in, you know? He said he was having an off-day.”

“Oh, really?” I murmur, my curiosity sparking. “I hope everything’s all right.”

“Reece tends to keep things close to the chest,” Carson explains. “Oh, by the way, I hope you don’t mind, I actually invited?—”

He’s suddenly cut off by a boisterous group walking through the entrance to the bar. I turn and immediately recognize members of Carson’s team, and among them is Jensen.

Turning back to Carson, I catch him grinning and waving at his teammates. He doesn’t appear at all surprised to see them.

When he realizes I’m watching him, he gives me a sheepish shrug.

“I mean, I figured there was a good chance the guys would show up,” he admits. “This is our usual hangout spot, after all. I did invite Jensen to join us, though. I thought you two could get to know each other a bit more. He’s a good guy to know. Plus it was only a matter of time before you got to know my best friend. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a little payback and he’ll drive you as crazy as your best friend drives me.”

My heart skips a beat as I look back at the group, and my eyes meet with Jensen’s. Carson has no idea. Warmth spreads through me, heating my cheeks, and I quickly look away.

“That’s… very brotherly of you,” I manage to say to Carson.

Carson grins at me. “Well, I do what I can.”

Just then, Jensen breaks away from the group and walks over to us. His broad shoulders swallow the space around him.

“Hey guys,” he says in that deep voice, his gaze shifting from Carson to me. Those stunning eyes stay on mine for longer than what seems polite or casual.

“Hi,” I squeak out, trying not to blush under his scrutiny. I can’t help but think of the other night. He was so skilled with his touch and the pleasure he gave me was so intoxicating. There’s a part of me that wants more. These are not thoughts I should be having right now, though. Not when Carson is right next to me and when I’m trying not to make it obvious that I’ve seen his best friend naked.

Jensen takes the stool next to me and orders a draft. His arm brushes against mine and sparks run down my spine. This is going to be a long night.

The rest of Carson's team joins us soon after. “Oh, Grace!” Carson hops up from his stool. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the guys. This is Zander, Cruz, Wilder, and Jayce. Guys, this is my sister, Grace!”

All the men are huge and wearing goofy grins just like Carson. It’s like they were all produced from the same hockey player factory. How do they all get so massive? Is it something in the water?

As I look around at all of them—my brother, his friends—I can’t help but feel like an outsider in their tight-knit circle.

I feel Jensen’s arm slip around the back of my barstool, his fingers ever so slightly grazing my shoulder. I freeze in surprise. My heart is pounding so loudly that I’m sure everyone can hear it. However, when I glance at Carson to gauge his reaction, he’s oblivious. He's distracted by his other teammates and the girls that have started filtering into their group like a flock of pigeons descending on loose bread chunks.

Jensen clears his throat, pulling my attention back to him. He's looking at me with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I swallow hard, trying not to get lost in those mesmerizing green eyes.

“Do you want another drink, Grace?” he asks.

My mouth is dry. I can't seem to make words form.

“Sure,” I finally say, trying to sound casual. “Sure, I’ll take another.”

He signals the bartender over, who of course knows him by name, and orders me another beer. I try to maintain a polite, aloof facade as Jensen turns his attention back to me. “Having fun?” he asks with a grin.

“I’m having a blast,” I reply, my tone tight. What’s his game? I know he’s up to something. He’s got a sly look in his eyes that makes me think he’s plotting.

His grin widens.

"Good," he says, never breaking eye contact. This man is intent on making me squirm, and I hate admitting to myself that it's working.

Carson stands up again, grabbing everyone's attention. "Hey guys! Let's play some pool." His announcement is met with cheers and a collective move towards the pool tables at the back of the bar. Carson throws me a lighthearted glance. “You coming, Gracie?” he calls out. “Reece?”

“I’m good,” I tell him with a wave. Carson shrugs and leaves us behind, probably figuring this is a good chance for me and his best friend to “get to know each other.” After Carson is far away, Jensen nudges me.

"Why don't you go play?" Jensen asks, not moving from his stool.

"Not a fan of pool," I tell him, deciding if he really wants to know the real me, I might as well be honest. “Plus, I’m not overly interested in getting competitive with a group of pro athletes.”

He chuckles lightly, turning his stool towards me. “That’s fair. Then how about a dance?”

I arch a brow and look over his shoulder toward the dancefloor on the other side of the bar. It’s starting to fill up with couples and the thought of dancing with him makes my cheeks flush. It’s not a good idea, though. I need to keep him at arm’s length, especially when Carson is nearby.

“Probably not a good idea,” I say before taking a long sip of my beer.

He releases a breathy chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.”

He sounds disappointed, but he doesn’t ask me again. Silence falls between us, which seems that much starker given the noise and rowdiness of the bar. I start to feel a little bad for turning him down so bluntly, so I turn back to him, thinking I can at least talk to him.

I freeze when I see another woman standing on his other side, smiling and batting her long lashes as she steals his attention.

I watch as the woman—blonde, tall, legs for days—rests an impeccably manicured hand on Jensen’s arm. Her shiny red lips curve into a flirtatious smile. He turns towards her, giving her his full attention, and I feel a pang of something I can't quite identify.

Is it jealousy? No, it can’t be. It can’t be …and yet the pang is there and becoming a throbbing ache as I watch Jensen laugh at something the woman says.

I take another swig of my beer, the cold liquid not doing much to quench the sudden dryness of my throat. My heart pounds a little harder now, a sickening rhythm that mirrors my growing discomfort. I tell myself that it's absurd to feel this way. Jensen and I aren't anything. Our week in Miami doesn’t matter. Our intimate moment on the hilltop was a fluke. There’s nothing for me to be jealous of. He can flirt with whoever he wants.

Jensen leans closer to the blonde. The corners of his mouth curl into a charming smile. The woman giggles and leans in to whisper in his ear, pressing her breasts against his shoulder.

I’m on my feet before I realize I’m even moving. Without a word, I walk past Jensen, snagging his arm and hauling him to his feet then dragging him away from the blonde.

“Woah,” he chuckles, not fighting me as I pull him along. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” I snap. “You asked me to dance, so we’re going to dance. Got a problem with that?”

We reach the dancefloor and I spin around to face him. He’s grinning from ear-to-ear before wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against his chest. “No problem at all,” he growls, making me shiver.

My mind is shouting at me that this is a mistake, but my body is eager to see what comes next.