“Hey—want a fancy cocktail?” I call after Charli.
“Yes, she does!” Sylvie barks over her shoulder. “The blood-orange margarita. Four of them!”
And just like that, I’ve completely lost control of the evening.
At least Anton, Tank, and Newgate are waiting at the bar, grinning at me.
“Hey,” I say, my voice grumpy.
“Hey,” Anton says with a laugh. “You sly dog.”
“We’re not discussing it. And what happened to date night? You guys are here at the bar together. Your women are over in the corner. And you’re not even watching hockey.” This bar is too chic to have a TV.
“It’s still date night,” Tank argues. “I’m paying a babysitter so my wife and I can pretend we’re still young and fun.” He grins.
“Besides, we just checked the scores,” Anton says. “Detroit is beating Minnesota. Tampa is pounding Carolina. And speaking of pounding, the night is still young. Sylvie and I will be finishing it off in high style, probably on several different surfaces in our apartment.”
“TMI, man.” I catch the bartender’s attention and order myself a light beer and four special margaritas. Charli is a fan of citrus, so it’s all good.
I watch the young man’s hustle as he stirs up four drinks the color of a tropical sunset. He slides my beer across the bar, and I leave him a nice tip.
That’s when I notice my teammates hunched over Anton’s phone. They’re laughing about something. “Castro’s a sore loser.” Anton snickers.
“Loser at what?”
“The pool!” Newgate says with obvious glee. “There was a lot of money riding on whether or not you and Charli have been mashing. You cost him four hundred bucks.”
“Four hundred?” I think I’m offended. “He bet that much against me?”
“Bet against what?” Charli’s voice says icily, and we all glance up. She and Sylvie are right there, probably to collect their cocktails.
Oh shit.
“There was a pool,” Newgate says, oblivious.
“About me and Drake?” Charli yelps.
“Apparently,” I say quickly. “I didn’t know.”
“How did you plan to settle it?” Charli demands, eyes flashing.
“Excellent question,” I say, turning to my friends. “Because if I look out my bedroom window and see one of you assholes with a periscope, someone dies.”
“Easy.” Anton holds up both hands in a sign of surrender. “We hadn’t worked that out yet. So thank you for that PDA on the sidewalk. Makes life easier. I just won fifty bucks.”
Charli lets out a noise of rage, and her face is bright red. She lifts two cocktails off the bar and takes a big gulp of one of them. “Men are revolting. It’s crass to make bets on a woman’s sex life. We’d never do that.”
Beside her, Sylvie’s eyes pop wide. She clamps her mouth shut and slaps a hand over it.
“You sure about that?” I ask Charli, whose eyes narrow with even more fury.
“I can explain,” Sylvie whines.
“God, you’d better,” Charli growls. “Grab those two drinks, get your ass back to that table, and start talking.”
Watching them walk off, I almost feel bad for Sylvie.
I wave at the bartender. “Probably going to need a couple more of those margaritas. Our girls look a little feisty tonight.”
“Say the word,” the guy says. “And good luck.”
I might need it.
THIRTY
LIKE BOXERS IN A RING
Charli
“A pool?” I demand, plunking down on the banquette. “That’s just mean.”
“It isn’t,” Samantha insists, taking her margarita and giving it an appreciative glance. “We just want you to have fun. Besides, it’s a small pool, because it was hard finding anyone to take the other side.”
“Was it? Because I would have bet against me all day.” I slug back another gulp of my drink. “Sleeping with him is just stupid.”
“I used to tell myself that about Tank,” Bess says cheerfully. “Being stupid turned out to be the best decision I ever made.”
“You guys have been circling each other for a while,” Sylvie says.
“Yeah, like boxers in a ring,” I point out.
“There is a fine line between hate and lust,” Samantha says. “And Neil Drake is a catch, Charli. Those tattooed arms…” She sighs.
“Hear that?” Sylvie says. “Your friends know what’s good. And it is, right?”
“It is what?”
“Good,” she says, lowering her voice. “He is a hottie. And he’s really into you.”
“He is not,” I insist. “But I am very convenient.” It hurts to say that out loud. I’d been trying to think of our fling as a short string of stolen moments before real life intervenes again.
But tonight it feels ugly.
Part of me feels used.
The other part of me just wants to be used again all night long before it’s over.
Bess tilts her head, watching me with soft eyes. “Neil doesn’t care about convenience,” she says. “He cares about you.”
“Maybe a little,” I concede. “But that doesn’t make it into the big deal you all seem to think it is.”
“Hmm,” Bess says. “Nobody is tougher than you, Charli. It’s very useful at the rink. You’re an amazing defensewoman. But you play defense when you’re off the ice, too. Nobody gets past your guardrails. Neil must have done a lot of work to get through to you.”
“Maybe,” I hedge. Although, all he has to do to get through to me lately is take off his shirt. “It doesn’t matter. We’re still getting divorced. He wanted me to help him with some things with his family, but now that’s all gone to hell. So probably he’ll get that divorce done fast.”
Samantha, Sylvie, and Bess all make eye contact. It’s a little unsettling. “What?” I demand.
“New pool!” Samantha says, grabbing her phone and tapping on the screen. “Will Charli and Neil get divorced? Bets in five-dollar increments, please.”
In my pocket, my own phone buzzes with a text on the group chat.
I sigh. “You people are insane. This is not how successful marriages begin.”
“Not for most people,” Sylvie concedes.
“But you two are not most people,” Bess argues. “You’re both driven, smart, a little intense. You each deserve somebody who’s really dynamic.”
“I have a good feeling about this,” Samantha says.
“I am surrounded by crazy people,” I complain. Then I drain my drink. “But at least you have very good taste in cocktails.”
They all laugh, but I feel dark inside tonight, and I don’t think tequila can fix it.
Still, I try. Neil sends us another round, and the alcohol begins to soften my sharp edges. After Bess leaves, my teammates try to hound me for sexy details, but it doesn’t work. I’m a very private person.
Besides, I don’t think I could really explain what it’s been like these past few weeks. Sex has never come easily to me. But now it does. Neil smiles at me. Reaches for me. And I respond. Just like that.