Page 38

Chapter 38

Jessie

Kitty patted my shoulder. “He’s known for being a fighter. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“But Guy’s not,” I said, biting the inside of my lower lip to keep it from quivering. I was shaky from the coffee I had before the game so I could stay awake. Friday night games were not my favorite since I had work earlier in the day. But Ben always made it up to me if I came to his games. He’d let me sleep in and bring me a fancy coffee and make good breakfast.

Kitty stared ahead. “It’s probably just shit-talking that got out of hand. Guy got into one after he moved here because someone talked about me, though.”

The gears in my head turned. “But how would they know about me? I’m a nobody.”

Kitty’s face stayed blank, but she rubbed my shoulder. “It’s probably nothing.”

I knew she was lying. “His lip was bleeding.”

“I’ve known him a long time. He’s a tough boy.”

I pulled out my phone.

You okay? How’s your lip?

Benjamin Michael Jockey

Fine. Doesn’t need stitches

Probably won’t be a good kisser for a couple of days tho

* * *

I chewed my thumbnail waiting for Ben to come out of the locker room. I could have just met him at home, because I was pretty tired, but I was worried about him.

I could tell he was pissed by the set of his shoulders leaving the locker room. He gave me a weak grimace as he approached. Instead of his usual “hey, Sweet Cheeks” and a kiss, he just gave me a silent hug, cradling my head to his chest. I pulled back and looked him over: tired, defeated.

“You wanna go home?” I asked.

He hesitated. “It’s Obi’s birthday, and Dallas treated him pretty shitty on the ice. I should at least go for one drink. Will you come?”

I really wanted to go to bed, but Ben’s sad eyes would always break me. I took his hand and squeezed it. “Yeah, I’ll come.”

We drove my car to the bar. He was quiet but clingy. “You want to talk about it?” I offered.

“Nobody’s... contacted you about anything, right? Like no hockey people have reached out to you anywhere?”

My brow wrinkled. “Not that I know of. Why?”

He shook his head. “No reason.”

“Was your fight about me?”

We parked outside The Stadium, and he turned to me as I turned the car off. His eyes combed over my face. “No. No. But you’ll tell me if anyone bothers you, right?”

“Yeah. I’m alright, Ben. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m good as long as you are, Sweet Cheeks.” He leaned in for an attempt at a kiss, wincing as my lips brushed his freshly battered ones.

“Oof! Sorry!”

“It was worth it,” he said with a grin. “Let’s go give this kid a good twenty-first birthday.”

* * *

Kitty and I had been chatting with Sorrento’s wife, Jeanine, when I decided to check back in with Mikey. He had a twinkle in his eye as I walked his way, reaching for me as soon as I was in range.

“You having fun, hon?”

I nestled into his side where he sat on a barstool. “Yeah. You didn’t tell me Jeanine was cool. I’m offended.”

“Yeah, well. She puts up with Sorrento, so she has to be cool.” Ben shook hot sauce onto a potato skin and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. “Thanks for being here, Jessie. I know you’re tired. You’re a good sport.”

I gently kissed his bacon bit and jalape?o-flavored upper lip. “How are you eating spicy stuff with your lip like that? You gonna tell me what happened out there?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked and his eyes went dark. “They were fucking with Obi. Not only is he our goalie, but it’s his birthday.”

The way he wouldn’t meet my eyes had me thinking that wasn’t all, but I let it go. On cue, Ben’s youngest teammate stumbled into him. “Mikey, buy me a shot.”

“Whaddya want, birthday boy? You gonna be able to skate tomorrow?”

“I’m fine,” he grinned, turning to me. “I’m Obi. I’m twenty-one today. Can I have a hug?”

I chuckled at the slurring mess of a man in front of me. He seemed to have forgotten that we met when I shut down Ben’s party. “Sure.” Obi hummed into my hair and gave my cheek an exaggerated kiss.

“Mikey, you have the best girlfriend. She’s pretty and she smells good. And she gives good hugs,” Obi said, pulling out of the hug but staying close to me. “I used to have a hot older babysitter and she looked just like you.”

“Okay, kid, take it easy,” Ben said, handing each of us shot glasses. “To you, wise Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“To me!” he giggled. Obi tossed back the shot, wiping a dribble of it from his chin. “You think I can get that bartender to give me a birthday whooping?”

The woman behind the bar looked like she wouldn’t be taking any shit from anyone, much less a twenty-one-year-old punk.

“Good luck trying,” I said. “Is someone looking after you tonight, Obi?”

With dreamy eyes, he turned to me. “You could be my mommy.”

“Alright, that’s it. You got your shot. Get out of here.”

Obi staggered back to a table with some other players and their wives. “Someone should really look after him.”

Ben gave out a heavy sigh. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had to deal with that level of stupid.”

“Liar. I saw you on your own birthday, and you’re how old? Twenty-eight?”

“Okay, I was a little high, too. I got these really good gummies.”

“And that makes it better, how?”

Ben chuckled. “I guess it doesn’t.”

Obi’s hyena laughter rang out at that moment. A blonde woman sitting next to him looked like she was being tortured. Sorrento swooped in and scooped him up to make him play Golden Tee.

“It looks like he’s in good hands. Does that mean we can go home?” I asked.

Ben was quiet as we got ready for bed, just a few soft touches while we brushed our teeth. We lay facing each other in bed, my hand stroking his arm.

“What happened out there, Benny?”

He gave a weak attempt at a smile. “You know I get in fights.”

“Yeah, but this one was different.”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to worry.”

I planted him with a look. “That’s a recipe to make me worry more.”

He wouldn’t meet my gaze.

“Was it about me?”

A small nod. “I hated it, Jessie. I’ll do anything to keep that from happening again.”

“How did they even find out about me?” I asked.

“Probably pictures from that benefit. I love taking you places, but I hate that this is the result of it.”

“You don’t think he’d actually do something to hurt me, do you?”

Ben shook his head. “Unlikely. I just don’t like that asshole talking about you.”

I ducked my head to meet his eyes. “Hey. I’m not too worried about it. I mean, I don’t like it, but I did have my sexy boyfriend throw some sick punches on my behalf. Did you spit in his face, too?”

Ben grimaced. “I might have.”

“Not very classy, Benny. But thanks for sticking up for me. And know that you don’t have to. Okay?” I ran my thumb over his busted lip. “I need these lips.”

He pulled me close and nuzzled the top of my head. “I get why in the fairy tales they locked the princess away in a high tower. I just want to put you in a bubble so no one can mess with you.”

“Don’t forget, babe—they’re messing with you. Not me. I probably don’t want to know what he said.”

He shook his head. “You don’t. It was disgusting, and he can’t just get away with it.”

“I’m sorry, Jockey.” I yawned. “No shrimp in his curtain rods, okay?”

“Oh, I want to do worse than shrimp in the curtain rods.”

Ben held me extra tight that night as we fell asleep.