“The next time I see you guys, I want to hear that you’ve both found nice girls and are finally settling down. You’re both getting too old for the lifestyles you’re living.”
“Rider is the oldest, so he should be thinking—” Kane begins and turns to me.
I laugh and punch him on the shoulder, but the laugh is to cover what I’m really feeling. I am tired of this fucking lifestyle. Maybe I do want what the others have. I just…well, it’s just not something that’s going to happen for me.
4
J
ules
I glance around the busy bar as Lindsay walks up to the stage to put her name in for karaoke. She has a great voice, and is talented in so many ways. If I sang, I’d clear the place out quicker than a smoke bomb. The only time my friend ever got me up to sing was when I had too many shots of tequila after a very rough night at the hospital. Tequila and I don’t mix, apparently. Which is why I now avoid it at all costs. I don’t like it when I’m not in control of myself.
Lindsay comes back to the table, and a couple of guys at the bar look like they’re about to approach, but she turns her back to them, giving me her undivided attention—probably to make up for abandoning me the other night. She sits across from me and flashes a smile that has ‘truce’ written all over it. But I’m not mad that she bailed. Heck, why not go have a good time with Kane? If she hadn’t left, then I never would have met Rider.
Rider.
Good God, why the hell can’t I stop thinking about him? He’s a distraction I don’t need, and even a few of the nurses asked me if I was okay, when they found me daydreaming. I’d only spent a few hours with the guy. Did he really leave that much of an impression?
Yeah, he kind of did.
“So tell me more about Kane,” I press, wanting to get my mind on something else. I’d only arrived a few minutes ago and snagged the corner table in the busy bar. My shift ended later than I would have like—there was a horrible motorcycle accident and I stayed to help out. Afterward, for some unknown reason, I ran home to change and freshen up before meeting Lindsay for drinks. Okay, okay, maybe I do know the real reason for acting out of character. Maybe somewhere in the back of my brain I thought I might run in to Rider again, and wanted to look a little more put together. I usually turn the TV on for background noise when I’m home alone, but I found myself flicking through the stations looking for tonight’s game. I don’t normally watch sports of any kind, and I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t a hockey fan, so why I found myself switching stations to find the game, and then planting my ass on the sofa to watch is beyond me.
“He was really nice, and was actually interested in my pottery.” She shakes her phone. “His eyes didn’t glaze over when I showed him pictures.”
I laugh at that. I always enjoy hearing her stories and while I’m neither spontaneous or reckless, I do love living vicariously through her. “He clearly has good taste.”
“He mentioned something about his mother and her upcoming birthday.”
My lids pop open. “He talked about his mother? Are you serious?”
“Sounds like he comes from a close family. Anyway, I think he wants to get her a few pieces.” She cocks her head, and gives me a dreamy smile. “Isn’t that nice?”
“It’s really nice,” I say as I consider Kane’s family. Rider calls him brother, but they’re obviously not blood-related. Does Rider have a family of his own? A mother, a father, blood siblings?
“Are you falling for him already?” I ask, my stomach churning uneasily. Hockey players are known for their wild ways—I can’t forget what Candy said about Rider—and I don’t want my friend to get hurt.
“Of course not. He just seemed really…nice.”
Oh no, she is falling for him.
“Rider said he was one of the good guys,” I say. I really hope it’s true and he’s not stringing my friend along. She’s a girl who puts herself out there, wears her heart on her sleeve, and despite numerous bad break-ups and scars that run deep, she continues to step out of her comfort zone. She can tell me it’s about personal growth all she wants, but I avoid vulnerability at all cost, and nothing or no one is going to change that.
“Rider?”
“Yeah, his friend. You know, the guy who told you he had a third nipple.” I chuckle softly. “Remember him?” God, why is it I want to talk about him, to just say his name?
Lindsay’s perfectly manicured brows arch, and her green eyes narrow in on me as she runs a curly lock of red hair around her finger. I fiddle with my own hair, which is still in a ponytail. I might have washed up, put on a clean pair of jeans and my favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt that’s just a tad bit snug in the breast area, but I left my hair pulled back. I don’t want to give anyone the wrong idea. I’m not here for a hook-up. I’m just here to hang out with my friend while she sings.
And hopefully run into Rider again.
Girl, you are all over the place.
She smiles. “I remember him. He was the wingman. You know that’s what they call him on the ice too.” Before I can answer she says, “Of course you don’t. You don’t watch hockey.”
“After you left, I asked him if his moves worked on guys, too.”
Her jaw drops open in disbelief. “You did?”