Page 29 of North

And then there are times when we don’t speak. I didn’t hear from her at all yesterday and I didn’t bother to reach out to her. I’m trying to give her space since she wants to keep this so casual but fuck if it’s not killing me. I really like Farren and being kept at arm’s length unless we’re fucking is honestly dissatisfying.

Don’t get me wrong. The sex is off-the-charts hot and I’ve never had chemistry with anyone like I have with Farren. I know damn well she feels the same, which sucks in a way, because she’s more than satisfied with just that.

King raises his beer, dragging my attention back to him. “Here’s to an amazing game tonight.”

We all clink glasses and toast the outstanding win.

“And to Rafferty and Tempe finally getting some peace,” Foster says, taking another long pull on his beer. “Word is Brienne fired Tansy on the spot after their meeting.”

I nod in affirmation. The story has made its way around the gossip mill, but Rafferty told me Brienne showed up at his place yesterday to let him know that Tansy was gone. After the game tonight, Rafferty did an interview to wrap things up with the press.

Mazzy grimaces. “Good riddance to that woman. She was poison. Can you imagine having to live with that hanging over your head? The fake doping scandal, the stalking? I’m so glad it’s all behind them.”

“And it all ended with a love story,” Willa says dreamily, nudging King with her shoulder.

“My little romantic,” he says, dipping down to kiss her.

Willa pushes at him playfully and directs her comment at Mazzy, presumably as the only other female here who will understand her sentiments. “I’ve never seen two people more perfect for each other. It’s like it was meant to be.”

“Agreed,” Mazzy says with a firm nod, but then Foster coughs pointedly, giving her a mock glare. “I mean… next to me and you, babe. No one deserves it more than them… after me and you.”

We all laugh but my thoughts are elsewhere. Every time the door swings open, my gaze darts that way, searching for one face in particular. I tell myself it’s pointless—she probably went home and curled up on Rafferty’s couch to watch an action movie. But then, through the crowd, I spot her.

Farren steps into the bar and a thrill runs through me, same as every time I see her. A wave of something dangerously close to joy sweeps over me and I don’t question it, but I do clamp down on it. I school my expression because to everyone sitting at this table, Farren is just a friend and a teammate’s sister.

She spots us, her gaze taking in the gang and giving me no more attention than the others. She weavesthrough the crowd with confidence and I force myself not to stare like an idiot.

She greets Willa and Mazzy first, hugging them with a bright smile. “Hey, guys.” She smiles at Foster and King, gives me a slight nod. “Where’s Atlas?”

Foster snorts. “Off with some girl.”

Farren’s eyebrows lift. “Really?” She looks around the table, gaze landing on me. “It’s just… you two are the last single guys in the group. You’re like each other’s wingmen.”

I don’t know if Farren is saying that to keep our cover tightly in place or if she’s trying to send a deeper message, but it’s Mazzy who teases, “Don’t tell me you have a crush on Atlas?”

Farren laughs, shaking her head. “I know better than to mess with hockey boys. Besides, Rafferty would kill anyone stupid enough to even look at me.”

I sip my beer, not sure if I want to laugh or put Farren over my knee. Christ, if only they knew the dirty things I’ve done to her, but I have to say, she’s selling her disinterest in the Titans men well.

Farren slides onto a stool beside me, her eyes meeting mine for a split second before she looks back at the group. “So, what are we talking about?”

“Tansy being gone for good,” Willa says, her tone laced with satisfaction. “Brienne cleaned house.”

Farren’s smile softens. “She really did right by Raffety.She’s quite the woman.”

“Yes she is,” I say, lifting my glass. “Here’s to Brienne Norcross.”

We all raise our drinks in agreement, but I can’t focus on the toast. Farren’s foot brushes against my leg under the table, a subtle but deliberate touch that sends a jolt of awareness through me. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, catching the faintest smirk on her lips before she turns her attention back to the conversation.

If this is how the night’s starting, I have no idea how I will survive it.

Pretending to be just friends with Farren feels like some kind of cruel punishment. Her laugh is more musical than usual, her smile wider, and her eyes keep catching mine. She keeps stroking her foot against my leg and I swear it takes every ounce of willpower not to grab her hand and pull her onto my lap right here in front of everyone.

“So, Mazzy,” Farren says, her drink cradled in her hands. “What’s it like playing music in front of a live audience? I’d be terrified.”

Mazzy laughs, her fingers tapping lightly on the edge of her glass. “Terrified is exactly how I felt the first time. I still get a little nervous, but once I’m up there and people start vibing with the music, it’s the best high in the world.”

“She’s amazing,” Foster adds, his arm draped casuallyover her shoulders. “People in this city love her. She could play the phonebook and still get a standing ovation.”

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