Her laughter was genuine, and her blue eyes sparkled. She bumped my shoulder with hers like we’d been friends our whole lives instead of having just met. “I can see why he likes you so much.”
“Oh, we’re not—”
She waved me off. “Been there. Denial is always the first step. It’s overwhelming at first to be at the center of one of these guys’ orbits.”
“No, really. It’s not serious,” I protested.
She stood, balancing on her skates like a pro as she stepped around where I sat toward the open bench door. “It was nice to meet you, Gemma.”
“You too . . .” My words trailed off when I realized I hadn’t gotten her name.
Placing a hand to her chest as she glided backward on the slick surface to remain facing me, she offered, “Tessa.”
With how many people were at this party, I was going to have a hard time keeping all their names straight.
I went back to spectating from the sidelines when a pink-cheeked young woman with dark, curly hair plopped down next to me on the bench with a huff of exhaustion.
Offering her a polite smile, I rubbed sweaty palms over my pant legs as I prepared for yet another encounter with one of Sasha’s friends. I had such an easy rapport with strangers who came into the bar, but for some reason, this felt different, heavier in a way, and it made me nervous.
“Gemma, right?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I’m Dakota, Braxton’s wife.” She sighed. “I wanted to come over here and apologize for earlier.”
“Earlier?” My brows rose.
“Yeah. Braxton was the one who started that whole thing in the locker room. Goose was the intended target, but you got caught in the crossfire.” Holding up her left hand, Dakota wiggled her fingers, flashing the diamond resting there. “This thing means I’m on the hook for anything stupid he does, so I’m sorry if you were embarrassed.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m over it already.”
When she stared me down with a doubtful expression, I noticed that unlike Tessa’s and Sasha’s, Dakota’s blue eyes were much darker, like the depths of the ocean.
“If you haven’t noticed, this group doesn’t have boundaries. It takes some getting used to. If Goose has anything to say about it, you’ll be around long enough to be tossing jabs with the rest of us.”
Desperate to change the conversation to something safer, other than everyone’s perceived notion that Sasha and I were on track to ride off into the sunset, I gestured to the arena. “Which of the little ones is yours?”
I was banking on the fact that most peoplelovedto talk about their kids.
“Oh, oh, no.” Dakota shook her head, curls bouncing. “We’re pretty much the only ones not in the family way yet.”
Her lips twisted to the side, and I tracked her gaze to a raven-haired man holding one of the redheaded babies I recognized as belonging to Jenner. The smile on his face was blinding as he bounced the little one.
“But if my husband had it his way, I’d be pregnant yesterday.”
Blowing out a heavy breath, I muttered, “Yeah. I feel that.”
Too late, I realized my slip. Dakota’s eyes widened, and her mouth popped open.
Trying to cover my tracks, having said too much, I stammered, “I-I mean—”
Shit. Why did I think kids were a safer topic? Should’ve known I always find a way to stick my giant clown feet in my mouth.
“Guess Goose knows what he wants.”
With a group this close, I could only imagine how quickly news would circulate that Sasha had babies on the brain.
I was gearing up to set the record straight—to try and do some damage control—when Dakota held up a hand to cut me off.
