Page 34 of Ruled Out

“Oh, no one in particular.”

I could tell her Jon Morgan’s wife, but I decide not to. Felicity clearly values her privacy, and I’m not about to send Tara on a hunt for famous hockey players. As harmless as she is, I can see it ending with her trying to take sneaky photos for social media.

We begin walking toward the private area at the back of the bar. It’s cordoned off with red rope and several security guards.

Tara quickly gives Leo’s and our names, and the guard nods and unclips the rope so we can walk through.

“I feel like royalty!” she says, taking my hand in hers.

“Underage royalty,” I mumble under my breath.

She brings her pointer finger to her mouth. “Shh! You’ll blow our cover and my expensive fake ID!”

I roll my eyes for the hundredth time tonight as we turn a corner, and that’s when it hits me—Tara’s back against my chest, to be specific.

“Oh. My. God!” she squeals.

Thankfully, her shriek doesn’t garner too much attention over the music, and I look around to see what she’s so giddy over.

“Over there!” she hisses, pointing without shame. “Jessie fucking Callaghan! Oh my God, and Jensen Jones, the goalie.”

My face heats with the fire of a thousand suns right before the panic hits. Sitting around a black leather booth is none otherthan half of the Scorpions team. Felicity has her back to me as she sits next to her husband, one of the most famous names in the NHL.

But it’s Jessie that I can’t stop staring at. He hasn’t seen me as he sits there, smiling and laughing with his teammates. His white dress shirt is rolled up to the elbows with a couple of buttons undone at the top. His disheveled blond hair hangs over his forehead, but doesn’t cover his piercing blue eyes. The scruff on his strong jawline is short and definitely tidier than when I previously saw him.

His appearance makes me happy. Like, today, he’s doing okay.

To look at, he’s delicious. But to see him smiling tonight is everything and more. I just hope it’s genuine. Although I want to speak to him since the last time I did was a couple of texts about pancakes, there’s a part of me that hopes to stay anonymous. It’s not like I can join him. It’s not like we can sit across the table and share a conversation.

It’s not like we can ever admit we know each other. Not if I want my dad to stay out of jail.

“Over here!” a voice shouts from across the room.

Leo waves his hands in the air, attempting to attract our attention.

Tara grabs my hand and pulls me in the direction of our table. “Girl, I need to find an excuse to talk to Jessie!”

“Just leave it, Tara. They’re having a night to themselves. They don’t want to be bothered,” I reply.

We dump ourselves down into the booth, and I cast my eyes to the right side. They’re around thirty feet away from us, but Jessie’s back isn’t to me, and if he looked up and to his left, I’m almost certain I’d be one of the first people he saw. But his attention remains focused on his friends as he takes a sip of beer and sets his glass back down on the table.

“Right, so happy birthday and all, babe. But, please, tell me you guys have noticed who is behind me.” Sitting opposite me, Tara inconspicuously tips her head over her left shoulder, gesturing toward Jessie’s table.

“Leo won’t shut up about it.” Hugh chuckles, taking a sip of his beer.

“I say we tell them it’s my birthday and try and get autographs and pictures.”

I quirk a brow at the three of them. “You guys seriously have zero chill. Just let them be. This is a regular hangout for them, probably because they don’t get bothered by the public.”

“And how would you know it’s a regular spot for them?” Tara returns a raised brow.

Because Jon Morgan’s wife just told me.

I shrug a shoulder. “Intuition. I’m sure they’ve tested out loads of bars over time.”

Leo edges closer to me as we sit next to each other. It’s subtle, but obvious enough for my cheeks to no doubt flush again. “Can I get you a drink, Mia?”

“I can get them,” I rush out, already starting to slide out of the booth.

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