Page 24 of Desperate Pucker
“We stole your hockey hangout. Sorry,” she says sweetly.
Xander beams. “Don’t be sorry. We love having you ladies around.”
He says that the rest of the guys are meeting us for drinks soon.
“Here, we’ll make room for you,” Bella says.
There’s a shuffling of chairs. Xander and I grab the empty table next to us and pull it over.
I nod at the nearly empty bottle of wine. “More?” I ask. They say yes.
“Get a pitcher of beer too,” Xander says, handing me some cash. “Oh, and Scotch for Blomdahl.”
I walk up to the bar and order drinks for the table. I glance over to the side and see Maddy standing a few feet away, frowning at her phone screen. The bartender walks up to her and hands her a shot of tequila.
“Wine isn’t cutting it for you?” I ask as she downs the shot.
She looks at me, holds eye contact, then swallows. Something about watching her do that sends heat all over my body.
She grabs a cocktail napkin and wipes her mouth. “I needed something stronger tonight.”
There’s a flash of sadness in her eyes, and I feel myself soften. I may not like Maddy, but it’s messed up that her ex cheated on her.
“Hey. I heard about your ex. Sorry to hear that.”
She makes a face like she’s annoyed.
“I’m serious. They told me he cheated on you. He’s a dick for doing that.”
She blinks, like she’s surprised. A second later, her expression softens. “Thanks,” she says quietly.
She glances down and traces her dainty finger along the rim of her empty shot glass. “For a second, I thought you were going to say something mean. Like I deserved it.”
I lean back like someone just shoved me. An ugly feeling claws through my gut. “I would never say that to you.”
Those stormy eyes cut to me. They’re a little hazy, probably because she’s downed a lot of alcohol in a short amount of time and is tipsy. But then she blinks. There’s a flash of vulnerability in her gray-blue gaze that hits me square in my chest.
“You really think I’d say that?” I ask.
She shrugs.
I huff out a breath and make a surprised sound. “Wow. You think I’m a piece of shit, don’t you?”
“I just figured you’d say he couldn’t take looking at my White Walker eyes anymore,” she mutters.
That ache in my chest deepens. Well, now I feel like an asshole.
“I was just fucking with you, Maddy. You have pretty eyes.”
Her eyebrow quirks like she doesn’t quite believe me. She fiddles with the corner of her napkin on the bartop. “Yeah, right.”
“Do I seem like the kind of guy who would give a compliment if I didn’t mean it?”
She looks at me and shakes her head. Her cheeks are the faintest shade of pink.
The bartender hands me a bottle of white wine and a half-dozen glasses. I bring it to the table, then head back to the bar to wait for the pitcher of beer and the glass of Scotch I ordered. I hear the bartender ask Maddy if she wants something else to drink.
“A whiskey and Diet Coke, please,” she says.
