Page 78 of O Goalie Night
CHAPTER 31
FOSTER
It was just supposed to be the four of us.
Ben assured me it was going to be the four of us.
Surprise, surprise—it’s not just the four of us.
This is so on-brand for Ben; I shouldn’t be surprised. How many times has he told me one thing then delivered another?
I didn’t even have to say anything. Once we were alone in the ultra-modern kitchen, he started to apologise.
“They weren’t supposed to fucking be here,” he whined before taking a long pull from his beer. “I specifically told Valentina that I didn’t want her friends around tonight, but when I got home from the gym, they were already here. They’re always fucking here. And it’s not always those three, sometimes it’s stylists or other models, but it’s always someone. We haven’t spent a night alone in two weeks. Tell me that’s not fucked up.”
He looked so miserable that I didn’t want to make him feel worse. I let him continue to vent in hushed tones while grabbing extra champagne glasses.
I may be miffed at the unwanted company tonight, but Ben is absolutely livid.
Eager to get back to Beth, I told him it was fine. We’d be leaving soon enough for the Christmas party. Still, my concern is Beth. I’m used to being forced into unwanted social situations, but she’s not, and she’s alone out there. She was nervous enough about meeting Valentina and I’m hoping a drink might take the edge off.
She seems to be doing fine, however.
The guy with the perfect haircut and unnaturally white teeth is standing far too close to her, his hand on her arm.
I hate it.
I step in and hand Beth the flute of champagne, trying to steady my nerves. I’m so tense it’s a wonder I don’t shatter the delicate glass in my grip. Standing closer to her than necessary, I slip my hands into my pockets and give Dante a slow, measured look. His eyes widen, and he takes a step back before returning to his seat on the couch. Message received.
I might not be much of a conversationalist, but my methods of non-verbal communication are just fine.
Beth raises her glass and takes a slow sip of champagne. Her eyes flash with surprise at my possessive display, but the slight curve of her lips says she enjoyed it. The red lipstick she's wearing is a perfect match to the vibrant shade of her dress and I can’t take my eyes off of her.
That fucking dress. The moment I saw her in it, my heart stopped altogether and my brain followed suit. Unfortunately, my dick was alive and kicking, which was less than ideal considering our host’s proximity. It clings to her like a second skin, outlining every graceful curve,and all I can think about is holding her just as close. She seems more relaxed now, the tension from earlier gone. Watching her socialise with this new crowd, I make a decision. If she can get along with these people, then so can I.
For her. I’ll do anything for her.
“I could use a refill.” The dark-haired alpha-predator rises from her seat and saunters over to me. “Join me? What’s your poison?”
Correction: I can’t get along with this one.
“Foster doesn’t drink, Xan,” Ben says as he joins us. He holds the open champagne bottle in his hands. Xan pouts at me like I’ve disappointed her before holding out her glass to Ben. He pretends not to notice, filling everyone else’s glasses before hers.
I see Ben enjoys her company as much as I do.
My eyes look everywhere but her, though I can still feel her watching me. Subtlety is an artform this woman doesn’t possess.
As a pro athlete I’ve had my fair share of women pursue me. It only bothers me when they refuse to respect when I’m not interested.
This is one of those times.
What’s worse is that I can sense Beth’s discomfort returning as the conversation resumes around us. Her eyes keep shifting nervously to Xan, like she expects her to pounce on me.
If we were anywhere else, surrounded by strangers, I’d pull Beth against me. Drape my arm around her shoulder and keep her glued to me all night so there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that we belonged to each other.
But in this condo with her already upset brother,there’s nothing I can do but ignore Xan and hope she gets the hint sooner rather than later.
“Babe, do you want to open another bottle of bubbles?” Valentina phrases this as if it’s a question, but there is only one clear answer.
