Chapter 11

Kali

"Brace yourself, girls," I warn my two friends as I reach for my glass and suck my drink through the straw.

I can feel the skin of my cheeks heating as my eyes lock with Wade's and never break contact. Our stare feels intimate, and yet at the same time, it's not. We're in a nightclub swarming with people.

"Is that Wade Collins?"

"Who's the hottie to his left? Is he a surfer?"

"Holy shit, who is the other guy? He's hot."

"Do you know them? Please say you know them, Kali?"

Ellis and Joy sound like a pair of jabbering macaws during mating season.

All single at present… how the three of us all ended up single at the same time is beyond me. All they've harped on about since we decided to come to Euphoria following the meal we have together most Fridays is how I never hook up with anyone and how it makes them feel bad because they can't leave me if they hook up. One-night stands are a big fat no for me.

But watch out ladies, tonight might just be your lucky night, because as I hoped, Wade has brought each of them a gift.

I hope it shuts them up and gets them off my back.

"Evening." Wade nods politely. "Can we join you because my two idiot friends here like your friends?" He thumbs either side of him, pointing to them.

I burst out laughing at his up-front question, embarrassing his friends but they stand there, grinning at his stupidity.

"Absolutely." Ellis waves her hand at the three available seats across from us. "But I would much prefer to dance." She stands and walks over to them as Joy follows her.

I've yet to take my eyes off Wade. Can't. It's as if they have a life of their own this evening.

Before Wade gets the opportunity to sit, Ellis and Joy are introducing themselves to him, and he informs them quickly that he and I are working together.

They aren't remotely interested in Wade, though. Thankfully.

I say thankfully because we have work to do and we might as well take advantage of a little free publicity while he's here. Not thankfully, because I like him or anything. No, nothing like that, even though I sort of caught myself staring at the color of his eyes the other day while in a meeting with Leon, which freaked me out. Maybe spending time with him outside of work will help to clear my foolish obsession with his blue gems that look like they've been struck by bolts of lightning and shine brighter than a star.

Jesus Christ, Kali. He's. Your. Client.

Although, that doesn't stop the butterflies dancing in my stomach. When I'm around him, they don't let up. If anything, they only ever gain momentum, making it feel like they are in my heart and throat. I can't think straight when he's this close, which is a lot these days.

He's a welcomed, yet unwelcomed distraction.

Shifting my gaze from Wade to the four of them, I watch their interactions play out as Ellis and Joy, my two confident friends, grab Wade's friends' hands.

"What's your name?" Ellis shouts over the music at Wade's darker haired friend. "I'm Ellis."

"Ezra." Throwing her a killer white smile, he wraps his arms around her waist. "I'm a heart surgeon."

"Smart prick." Wade rolls his eyes at Ezra's response.

"I'm Myles." Wade's blond surfer-looking friend—who would be a great Abercrombie Fitch model—introduces himself to Joy.

"Joy." She bats her eyelashes at him.

"Well, it's a joy to meet you, Joy."

I roll my eyes at the same time Wade does and watch them shaking their asses before they've even hit the dance floor, leaving us alone.

Wade plonks himself down next to me.

Except for the thumping music, silence stretches between us like an elastic band as I consider how to get him over to the crowd of fans that's growing by the second and staring at him over the waist-high wall cordoning off the make shift VIP area to grab his attention. And no matter what the bouncers do, they just seem to keep reappearing.

"Fucking puck bunnies," he grumbles as I wave to them and smile.

"C'mon," I encourage him. "Let's go say hi. It's great publicity." I know without a doubt those girls will post photos all over their social platforms as soon as they have it saved on their phones. I know I would if I met him when I was that age.

He doesn't respond to my enthusiasm, so I try again. "Please, Wade? Don't make me get down on my hands and knees for you."

Although that image of me doing that feels oddly appealing… wow… stop it at once.

I clearly need sex. It's been far too long since I got some, and being around Wade isn't helping. He might be younger than me, but he smells all man and I'm certain he oozes highly toxic levels of testosterone. It's poisoning my professional work values and brain.

That's the only explanation for these stupid thoughts I am having.

Clearing my throat, I run an idea by him. "What if you do this for me and I will do something in return for you?"

"You are so annoying." Another groan from him. "You don't have to bribe me." A heavy sigh leaves his broad chest. "Okay. Let's do this." He reluctantly gives in, running his hands down the fabric of his black jeans.

I tap his thigh twice, signaling for him to get up as I grab my phone and stand quickly before he changes his mind. "Remember to ask for their names. Make them feel special."

Drawing in a long breath, I can tell he doesn't like this part of being a hockey player.

"And remember to smile." His brows snap together when I say that. "Oh no, not that face. Happy face on." I draw an invisible semi-circle in front of my lips, and he growls.

He does that a lot around me and makes me chuckle every time. He's so pig-headed.

But he's also kind of sweet. Following our visit to the children's hospital, he comforted me, holding me when I cried, then made sure I got to the office safely, where he insisted he made me a cup of sweet tea.

He has layers.

And he doesn't have a black heart like I thought he did.

"Hey, girls." I wave over to the crowd as I walk to the partition wall. "Holy cow, you all look gorgeous tonight."

One of them shouts, "Kali?"

"Yes." I look over to the striking redhead.

"You're so beautiful. Are you and Wade dating?"

"No, we are not." He appears by my side and every girl in a ten-mile radius goes starry-eyed. "Beasts only get beauties in fairytales."

Thank God, he decided to play along. But that response is really sad and makes me feel things I don't like. It hurts my heart. Is that what he believes? If so, it's not just sad, but heartbreaking.

"Can I be your girlfriend, Wade?" someone shouts from the back of the crowd, making everyone laugh.

Staying behind the wall for safety, Wade gets to work, signing whatever is placed in his hands. Although he drew the line at signing a girl's cleavage though, so she settled for her shoulder instead, informing him she was going to get it tattooed to make it permanent.

Eagle's fans are intense.

"Love you, Wade. Didn't like you breaking Zane's nose though," another girl shouts.

"Boys will be boys." I brush that comment away like it's yesterday's news.

I'm waiting on a contact at the newspaper, who published the story, to get back to me about who sold it to them. There are only two sources it could have come from: a member of staff, or a player. The in-house marketing and public relations team should have a handle on these things, but it appears they don't. There have been several articles about Wade's behavior that have been leaked, and it all points to an internal source. Whoever it is, I will get to the bottom of it.

For the next ten minutes, reluctantly Wade signs autographs and takes selfies, smiling for everyone, though I can tell it's forced.

I had to have a chat with him about that last week. About the smiling thing.

"It's quite simple," I said at the time. "You just say the word Armani and it makes you look like you're smiling and not some miserable celebrity who doesn't give a shit about his fans."

I've since caught him a couple of times testing my method. It's adorable.

Finishing up, we wave the girls goodbye, but it doesn't stop some of them lingering.

Hand on the base of my back, like you would do to a girlfriend, Wade surprises me with his gentlemanly gesture to usher me back to my seat.

Lowering myself down, I show him the photo of him with the crowd. He's at the front and his hands are in the air. "That's a great photo. We'll use that for your social pages tomorrow."

He lifts an eyebrow, almost looking like he's agreeing with me.

Tough gig sometimes. You never quite know what he's thinking.

And then we are back to radio silence between us again.

"I like people watching." I lean in to talk to him so he can hear me better over the music, trying to fill the gap and break the tension. I'm not nervous, more awkward than anything. I don't know him well enough yet and he's not much of a talker.

"Woman in the purple dress." I point at a random couple I've been fascinated with since we arrived. "She's with the guy she's dancing with, but…" I look for his friend and I point in the opposite direction. "He had his hand up her dress earlier." I swear I should have been a detective. "And her…" I find another couple. "She likes her." I wave my hand at a girl with red hair and another with pink. "They've been making eyes at each other since I sat down. They'd look hot together, don't you think?"

Wade grabs his almost empty bottle of water from the table I tested earlier, finishes it, and then places it back.

I twist my neck to look at him. Maybe he didn't hear me and my observations.

Although maybe he does really hate me like he has said a few times now and doesn't want to speak to me. I think he finds me annoying. His often pursed-together lips are a dead giveaway. Much like they are now that he's finished his drink.

"You have my lipstick on your lips." Unconsciously, I reach up to wipe it away. Then it dawns on me I'm too close. Far too close, and my thumb is on his bottom lip. I'm touching him in a moment of madness, but I don't move. Instead, I stare at my blood red lipstick staining his skin and imagine what his big, pouty mouth would like covered in it.

I look up to find him staring at me and something like a shot of electricity shoots through my hand, jolting me back to reality.

"Sorry." I pull my hand away.

His Adam's apple bobs up and then back down. "It's fine." Forefinger pressed to his lips, he haphazardly rubs it off the way men do, as if lipstick will poison them.

"Missed a bit." I point to a tiny residual speck, making him rub with more vigor. His eyes stay fixed on mine still.

"Kali?"

I turn my head, breaking our whatever the hell that was moment.

"Oh, gawd," I mutter under my breath, then fake a smile. "Hey, Michael."

"Great to see you."

I wish I could say the same. Cheating asshole.

"Who is this?" Wade mutters under his breath.

"Oh, forgive me, sorry, this is Michael. Wade, Michael, Michael, Wade."

"The ex-husband?" Wade asks through the side of his mouth.

I wipe my brow as I nod, answering yes.

Wade tenses next to me, squaring his shoulders, chin raised. I can tell he already doesn't like Michael.

Which makes two of us.

Since our divorce, every conversation we now have goes south. Very quickly.

"Holy shit. The Wade Collins." Michael stares at Wade. Michael is all about celebrity status and what those celebrities can do to make him look good. He's fame-hungry, just like Wade's mother, Miranda, seems to be from the research I've been doing. They'd be a perfect match for one another.

Michael would never have handled my retirement well; he likes the limelight. Me retiring would have kept him in the dark. Where he should be. He's a fungus. "Pleasure to meet you, man." Michael looks at me as if to ask what the hell am I doing with Wade Collins.

Wade closes the distance between us, pressing his firm thigh against mine.

Oh-kay.

"Glad I bumped into you, Kali. Been meaning to text. You know, out of courtesy and all." Nervously, he finally says, "I wanted to let you know that I'm selling the house in New York and looking at moving to our old house here."

Is he serious?

I moved to be close to my family, and as far away as I could from him.

His entire family lives in New York. What the hell does he want to move here for?

"Because Darcy is pregnant," he adds.

Ah, and there it is. Darcy wants to move home.

Bumping into them more than I would like would become a thing. A thing I don't want.

See what I mean? South. Every time I see Michael, with one sentence, he has the ability to suck all the joy out of my body.

They've been together for a year, and are already starting a family together. That irks me more than it should because we were together for six and only became apparent he never wanted children until after we married.

"Congratulations." My smile is tight and unfriendly. I wish he would crawl back under the stone he came from.

I now realize why I stayed married to him for so long. It was more out of convenience than anything else. Him being my manager worked for both of us. He did all the paperwork; I did the work. I earned the fee; he took his cut. He made lots of money from me. I floated him for years. He abused my trust and kindness, fucking his way around the world it would seem, because after I found out he was cheating on me, a list of other women the length of my arm came out of the woodwork maintaining it wasn't his first rodeo.

Great.

Finding out about his repeated indiscretions affected my self-esteem. Squished it into the floor to be honest, in the same way you would kill a cockroach. It's only just starting to spark back to life again. Truthfully, that's the main reason I haven't dated or slept with anyone else.

According to my therapist, I have trust issues.

"So?" Michael waggles his finger between us, moving on from the shocking truth bomb he dropped seconds ago.

Before I get a chance to respond and kill his insinuation that we're together, Wade pipes up. "So, you're the cheating ex? Wish I could say it's a pleasure to meet you too, man, but that would be lying."

Oh hell.

Abort. Abort.

Abandon ship.

All hope is lost.

Michael scoffs as if embarrassed and rubs his hand over his beard, cupping his chin like he always did in uncomfortable situations. Like the time I produced statements from other women at the divorce proceedings as proof of his infidelity and he rubbed so hard I was surprised he had any beard left.

Stupid asshole.

"They let anyone in the VIP area these days." Wade lays his ginormous bear-sized hand on my thigh and asks, "Want to dance, baby?"

Baby?

I could kiss him right now because the look on Michael's face is one of complete horror.

I'm being pulled by my hand to my feet before I can protest.

As Wade passes Michael, whose jaw is now hitting the floor, he gets up in his face. "You fucked up. Lost the best thing you ever had." Wade shocks me with this confrontational side of him I haven't seen before. He's territorial.

Then he goes in for the kill. "I feel sorry for your girlfriend. Once a cheater, always a cheater. You'll get bored soon enough and then what? Will she be left holding that baby while you move on? Sounds like something you would do."

Looking petrified, eyes wide, Michael arcs his neck to look up as Wade continues his character assassination. "Are you already considering cheating on your new girlfriend? Or are you already screwing someone behind her back?" Not waiting for an answer, he starts to move, and I have to skip on a run to keep up with how fast he is walking. He's mad as a bear who's been disturbed during hibernation.

"He's too young for you." Michael sneers, shouting at my back.

"Fuck this." Wade drops my hand and storms back over to Michael like a raging bull.