I’m in trouble.
“Hey, All-Star.”
“Are you two going out, or are you just going to stand there eye-fucking each other all night?”
I’m going to kill Zoey.
“Hey, Zo.” A knowing smirk plays on Jase’s lips.
“Hey there, Loverboy.” Zoey wiggles her fingers in greeting.
Yup, I’m definitely going to murder her. It’s a good thing I have a second best friend.
“Goodbye, Zo.” I grab my coat and push Jase out the door before she can say anything else.
“Night. Oh, and Mels,” Zoey calls out as the door shuts, “go forth and have all the crazy monkey sex you want tonight. There’s no rehearsal tomorrow. It’s not like you have to worry about being sore.”
Why? Why am I friends with her?
A muscular arm wraps around my middle, pulling me against a hard chest. All embarrassment fades at the sense of home the embrace brings.
“Though I’m fully on board with that suggestion”—Jase runs his nose along the shell of my ear—“we should probably limit the amount of time she spends with Becky and Skye.”
We should probably limit the amount of time she spends outside of a padded room. I keep that thought to myself.
“Why?”
“I don’t know if the world can handle the trouble the three of them could create together.”
And just like that, all the awkwardness fades.
When the town car parks in front of a nondescript door twenty minutes later, I still have no idea what we are doing. No matter how much I pried, Jase remained all mum’s the word. My only clue is the small lit metal sign above the door: The Duel.
Ever the gentleman, Jase holds the door for me to step through, lacing our fingers and guiding us down a long, narrow hallway.
We come to a stop at another door, this one with a bell. A few seconds later, it clicks open and a bear of a man steps out, a deep scowl on his face.
Where the hell did Jase bring us?
I shift so Jase’s bulk is blocking me but stop when I see the man break out into a grin upon spotting my boyfriend.
“Donnelly. It’s been a minute,” he says in a deep bass.
“I know, Tiny.” Jase reaches out to share a complicated handshake while I stand there mouthing, Tiny? “You know how it is when the season kicks into high gear.”
“Hell yeah. You boys are looking good this year. You going to bring home the Cup for us?”
“That’s the plan.”
Dark eyes crinkle at the corners and white teeth flash against dark skin when Tiny turns my way. “And who is this beauty?”
Jase gives my fingers a squeeze, pulling me forward to his side. The affection I see in his gaze when he looks down at me causes my heart to tap-dance inside my chest. “This is my girlfriend Melody Brightly. Mels, this is Tiny.”
I love ironic nicknames.
“It’s nice to meet you.” Tiny greets me warmly before saying to Jase, “No Cali? You’re taking on the rock-star contingent by yourself?”
“Nah.” An arm drops around my shoulders. “My girl here is a Broadway star. She’s my ringer.”
The two of them share a look I can’t decipher then Tiny thrusts an arm behind him.
“Can’t wait for it all to go down. You know the drill. Drop your phones and head on in. Your fanboy already has a whole section for you guys. Guess I should have figured you’d be showing up tonight.”
“Your fanboy?” There’s no stopping my chuckle at the blush overtaking Jase’s cheeks.
“You’ll see,” is all he says.
Tiny clicks the door shut behind us, and I follow Jase to a room where we check our coats and phones.
“Our phones?” I ask.
“You’ll see,” he repeats, not saying anything else on the subject.
Excitement bubbles and a buzz hums beneath my skin as he weaves us through the tables and chairs.
I take in the place, trying to figure out what it is. It reminds me of a speakeasy, all dark paneled walls and black tufted-leather booths. The only light in the space comes from Edison bulbs strung across the ceiling and wrought iron sconces intermittently placed throughout.
There is a huge oak bar taking up the entirety of one wall, but what really captures my attention is the curved stage, complete with velvet curtains tied back on the sides and two grand pianos—one black, one white—polished to a high shine in the center.
“Did you bring me to a piano bar?”
“A dueling piano bar, Sweet Potato.” The smirk on his face is the same 100% pure cocky male one he had the night we met.
I should say something biting, knock him down a peg or two.
That’s not what I do, though.
Instead I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and sealing my mouth to his.
This date is…so…me. How else did you think I would react?
Who cares that we are in a public place, or that we stand amongst the tables, probably preventing patrons and servers from getting through.
All that matters is this kiss.
I catch a hint of mint with each stroke of his tongue, and a shiver chases down my spine when the metal of his ring whirls inside my mouth.
No one kisses like Jase Donnelly.
He may have a gold medal for hockey, but he deserves all the medals for kissing. The Schuyler Sisters would never have to worry about not being satisfied if they kissed Jase.
We kiss.
And kiss some more.
Applause rings out when the pianos stop playing, but when the catcalls and wolf whistles continue, I realize they are for us, not the musicians.
He keeps me close, resting his forehead on mine. “I’m going to apologize in advance for this evening.”
“Why?”
Now I’m really confused. Everything about this place is so perfectly me, so I can’t imagine there’s anything he would need to apologize for.
“Because.” He lifts his head, casting a look over mine with a grimace. “This is going to make me sound so high school…but this place is more fun when you come with a group.” He cups the back of his neck. “I mentioned I was thinking of bringing you here, and it kinda snowballed from there.”
“You mean The Coven is crashing our date?” I tease.
“God no.” He shudders. It’s adorable how someone who is a beast on the ice is intimidated by a group of women. Except…Jase’s contradictions are some of things I find most endearing.
“There’s only one…well one and a half of them here. It’s bad enough I feel like a teenager who needs a chaperone for a date—there wasn’t a chance I’d have them all here.” He strokes the line of my jaw with his thumb, and I lean into the touch. “I want you to still be my girlfriend when the night is over.”
“One and a half?”
“You’ll see.” He relinks our hands, this time not stopping until we arrive at a section of booths and tables in the corner by the stage. I love how he’s always in constant contact when we’re together. Not in a possessive, controlling way, just…touching.
“About time you showed up, Donnelly.”
“Yeah…this whole thing was your idea.”
“We were starting to think you didn’t love us anymore.”