Gaze coming to me, he grins broadly. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I beam back before doing a little gushing of my own. “Words cannot describe how amazing you were tonight. I’m really proud of you.”
Stone’s gaze softens, and his hand goes behind my neck, almost pulling me off my stool so he can kiss me. It’s soft, and sweet, and it makes everyone in this place melt away until it’s just us two.
“That’s new,” Gage says as he comes up to the table.
Stone pulls back slowly and reaches out to take my hand, holding it on top of the table—a public display that the nature of our relationship has changed.
Gage has hung out with us a few times after games. But he has only ever known me as Stone’s friend. He also knows me as Brooks’s closest friend.
Now he sees that we’re different.
He gives Stone, then me, a pointed look. “I was going to join you, but it looks like I might be a third wheel.”
“Of course you’re not a third wheel,” I exclaim, and I nod toward an empty stool.
“You’re totally a third wheel,” Stone grumbles, but he’s teasing. Gage knows it and takes the stool, resting his forearms on the table.
He lasers his eyes onto Stone. “I don’t know what brand of Wheaties you fucking ate this morning, but that was some of the best hockey I’ve seen in my career.”
Stone squeezes my hand as he replies, “I got a really good night’s sleep, I guess.”
Mid drink, I almost choke on my lemonade. We did indeed sleep well last night, both worn out from amazing orgasms. But I also think about Odin waking him up early by kicking him in the face. Half an hour in the cold, trying to get my dog to do his business.
It was not his normal routine.
If anything, Stone should’ve been discombobulated today. My presence in his life on an intimate level would shake up the most solid of men.
But he takes it all in stride, and that is a big difference from the man I met several weeks ago.
“Is Baden coming?” I ask. He had joined us once before, and I really like the guy.
Gage shakes his head. “He wanted to hang at home with Sophie. He’s officially whipped.”
I knew the backstory about Baden from the news, but Stone filled me in a little more on his new romance with the woman he saved from attackers, which in turn caused the severe injuries that resulted in career-ending paraplegia. It led him to a new position here as the Titans’ goalie coach and reunited him with the woman he saved.
Something beautiful coming out of something so horribly ugly.
I wonder if that’s what this is with me and Stone. Did that plane crash lead him to me?
Did I lose my best friend and he lose his brother, merely so we could find each other?
A family approaches, this time for Gage. A mom, dad, and two little girls, both of whom are wearing Heyward jerseys, ask for pictures. When Gage steps away from the table to mug with the little fans, I turn back to Stone.
“Okay… listen—” I start to say.
Stone puts a finger to my lips and shakes his head. “In my opinion, when somebody starts a sentence with okay, listen, it’s usually bad news. Let’s not go there.”
I bat his hand away and smirk. “It’s not bad news. I’m merely extending an invitation to dinner at my parents’ house on Friday night. They asked if you wanted to join us.”
Stone scowls, not in an irritated or angry way, but confounded. “Did you tell your parents that we had sex?”
I can feel my eyebrows drawing inward, nearly touching each other, so deep is my confusion. “No. Why would I do that?”
“Why would they invite me to dinner?” he throws back, a small insight into his befuddlement. “You and I didn’t sorta become official until last night. I think having sex solidifies that we’re having a relationship. Well, I’ve had sex in the past with women and that did not mean I was in a relationship. Normally—”
Now I’m the one who puts my fingertip to his mouth to stop his adorable but unnecessary rambling. “My parents know we’re friends. They knew Brooks well, and he came to dinner at their house many times. They’re being polite by extending the invitation, which came during the game. Now, as far as dating… I do think that having sex clarifies we’re something more than friends. I think the fact you’re showing PDA in a very public place might also be a hint. However, I want to say, please don’t ever talk about your prior habits with regard to your sexual conquests. I don’t need to know that stuff.”
Stone laughs, taking my hand in his and brushing his lips across my knuckles.
“Sorry I jumped to conclusions. And that’s sweet your parents invited me to dinner.”
“And?” I prompt.
Stone shrugs. “I suppose I should accept. We are having sex, after all, and it would be totally rude to decline at this point.”
I smack him with a playful backhand and then lean in for a kiss. I don’t make it, though, because there’s a commotion across the bar with men shouting and glass breaking.
Stone and I both look that way, and my jaw drops when I see Coen Highsmith grappling with another bar patron. The guy’s got his arm around Coen’s neck, and Coen is trying to break free.
He succeeds, his right arm coming out, and gives the guy two hard punches to the ribs.
Bouncers jump in as well as two of the Titans players who must’ve come in with Coen. The men are broken apart, and the guy who just took two shots to the ribs holds a hand to his side, grimacing in pain.
Coen, on the other hand, is still pissed and trying to jerk away from the people holding him back. His eyes are pinned on the man he just punched, shouting obscenities and trying to reach him for another round.
“Jesus Christ,” Stone mutters as he stands from the table.
I start to get up as well, but he shakes his head. “Stay here. Just going to see what happened.”
Gage also has taken notice of the melee and walks over with Stone. I watch from the table as things calm down and Gage gets in Coen’s face. He has some harsh words that get Coen’s attention off the other man, and then Gage pulls him away from the crowd where he steps in closer to talk to him. Stone has words with the man Coen hit, putting a hand on his shoulder in commiseration.
Whatever Gage says, it seems to penetrate Coen’s thick head. He walks over to the guy and seems to apologize. The guy begrudgingly accepts with a curt nod, and then Gage leads Coen out the door.
When Stone returns to our table, I ask him what happened.
“Apparently, that guy stepped in Coen’s way and accidentally bumped his shoulder. Coen went ballistic and called him a nasty name. Shoving ensued, and you saw the rest.”
“He’s got an awful short temper.” I know Coen hasn’t been doing well, based on what Stone has told me. Anybody who watches sporting news knows he got arrested for drunk and disorderly and assault. And here he is, jumping right back into the fray.
“And he doesn’t even have alcohol to blame for this outburst.” Stone sounds absolutely disgusted but equal parts worried about his teammate.
“He needs a major intervention.”
“I agree.” Stone glances toward the door and then back to me. “But who would do it? None of us are close to him. All his friends died on that plane. Every single member of this team could sit him down and tell him we’re worried, but it wouldn’t mean shit because he doesn’t know us and we don’t know him.”