***
“There’s that smoking team captain,” Cora called out a short while later as a few of the players started trickling into the bar.
The energy had already started ramping up as more fans arrived to wait for our winning team. I reveled in that excitement, but it was also bittersweet. I hadn’t been allowed in bars when my father was still playing, but I remembered the family events and hanging out with my father’s teammates’ kids. That comradery, that excitement when the team won and we got to celebrate together.
I would have been lying if I said I hadn’t missed some of that. Which was stupid. Those friendships had faded years ago, but watching Gabe and his teammates and their families made me think about easier times, before my father really showed his true colors toward us, especially to my brother.
Mal had apparently turned on the game during the second period and heard our father commentating, so he texted me. I felt bad for not telling him that our father was going to be in attendance. It’s not like he didn’t know that the man was in town since the asshole had shared a picture of us—one that I’d actively tried to avoid taking with him—from the Stampede charity event the other night. I reiterated that I had zero plans to see our father tonight.
Mal brushed it off, like he’d done for years, and it niggled in the back of my mind. Did Mal truly not care how our father felt about him, or was it just an act? If it was, then I fucking hated my father for making my amazing brother feel even an ounce less than awesome.
“Everything okay?” Gabe asked, and I jumped. Where the hell had he come from?
“What?” I asked, trying to get my bearings.
His head dipped down to mine, concern in his eyes. “You looked sad. Everything okay?”
Pressing my hand to his chest, I felt his pulse beat strong as his heat enveloped me.
“What? Yes, of course,” I said. “You freaking startled me.”
“Sorry. I thought you noticed me walking over here. Want to talk about what had you so distracted that you didn’t even see me coming?”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
He brushed his thumb over my lower lip and I wanted to nibble, so I did, nipping the flesh of his thumb lightly and loving when he sucked in a breath, his blue eyes darkening.
“Don’t distract me. We already discussed that I’m well aware what fine really means.”
“We should get you a drink to celebrate that awesome win. You really stood on your head tonight. Oh, and how is your head, or actually, your face? I can’t believe you said you had the zoomies.”I was rambling, and I could tell by the quirked brow that he was going to call me on it.
Instead, he tightened his grip on my hip with one hand, then leaned in and feathered his mouth across mine.
I couldn’t stop the soft groan that spilled from my mouth as he teased me with his lips, kissing me gently, just a whisper. My body needed more, so I swiped my tongue against the seam of his lips, and he thankfully parted them to give me the kiss I wanted. Needed.
But he pulled away before I could go deeper.
“Are you done?” he asked.
“You’re mean,” I muttered.
He snorted. “How? I just kissed you.”
I scoffed. “Please. That was barely a kiss.”
“Maybe you tell me what made you look so sad when I walked in and I’ll give you a better kiss.”
Ugh, I didn’t want to get into my feelings right now—or probably ever.
“It was nothing. I said I was fine.” I tried to keep the bite out of my tone, but he was frustrating me and that half-kiss thing had been very unsatisfying.
“Guess we’re not kissing tonight.”
Is this how this was going to go? I knew I wound him up just as much as he did me. I guess two could play at this game.
I trailed my fingers down the front of his dress shirt. Dammit, this man filled out a suit to perfection. Another plus to game days—exquisitely tailored game day suits. If he turned around, I probably would have copped a feel of his ass. No shame, either.
“You do not play fair.” I huffed out a breath.
