My stomach flutters. “Like you need it.”
He presses a kiss to my temple, warming me with another quiet laugh. “From you? I need it.” His voice goes low and liquid, and there’s another flutter low in my belly.
“Maybe later tonight, you can show me what else you’re good at, besides hockey.”
His eyes flare with heat but he shakes his head. “That’s not happening tonight.”
I balk. “Why not?”
“You need to rest.”
I hold his gaze, challenge rising in my eyes as my mouth slides into a knowing smile. “We’ll see.” I bring my lips to his ear, lowering my voice. “There are a couple pieces you sent that you still haven’t seen.”
His eyes dip to my mouth, darkening, but he pulls his gaze away, taking a deep breath like he’s trying to block out the dirty thoughts of what we did last night.
“Hartley,” he groans. “Please don’t make me hard in public.”
I just chuckle, turning back to the conversation at our table.
“We fly out tomorrow night,” Pippa says to Hayden, gesturing at Jamie, Rory, and me. “Although,” her eyes linger on me as she chews her bottom lip, “I don’t think you should go anymore.”
“What?” My jaw drops in outrage. “I’m not missing Christmas.”
“Pippa’s right,” Rory says in a firm, no-nonsense tone, that heartbreaking worry back in his gaze. “They’ll have snow in Silver Falls and I don’t want you to slip on your crutches.”
Disappointment flows through me in waves. I’ve never missed Christmas with my family, and all those images I daydreamed about that included Rory? Gone.
His fingers tense on my waist. “I’ll stay at your place and take care of you.”
My heart lifts, not knowing what to say as I look up into his pretty blue eyes.
“Don’t be stubborn, Hartley,” he adds, watching me like he hopes I’ll say yes.
“Okay.” I nod, blowing out a nervous breath. He’s going to be staying with me. Not just crashing in my bed. This is getting more real by the day. “I’d like that.”
He smiles again, softer this time, and gives me a gentle kiss. “Good,” he whispers against my mouth. “I’m going to make you rest, Hartley, even if I have to tie you to the bed.”
My eyebrows wiggle and I grin against his mouth, and from his huff of laughter, he likes that idea just as much as I do.
After convincing Rory I don’t need him to carry me to and from the ladies’ room, I make my way back through the crowded bar to our table.
I bump into someone, and a wave of hot beer breath hits me in the face.
“Hey.”
I recoil at Connor’s bleary gaze. He sways on his feet, wearing an unfocused frown.
“Hi.” My tone, expression, and body language say go away.
“Did you get the thing I sent? You never thanked me.”
A gross feeling skitters over my skin. “Don’t send stuff like that to me.”
At the table, Rory watches, tense and on high alert.
“That’s not okay,” I add. “Even if I wasn’t dating Rory, that wouldn’t be okay. We work together.” I give him a duh look. “Being professional, remember?”
I start to crutch past him, but he sighs and puts a hand on the bar counter beside me, blocking my path to the table.
“I saw the way you were looking at me today,” he slurs.
Nausea and discomfort roll through me. His hot, wet beer breath slithers over my skin again, and I look to Rory, who stands. Connor takes an unsteady step, smirking down at me, and I step back with my crutches but hit the counter. There’s a chair behind me, and I’m blocked in.
Alarm races through me and my lungs tighten. Rory makes his way over, trying to get around people, but the bar is crowded and loud.
“I wasn’t—”
“You were jealous.” Connor goes on like he didn’t hear me, still giving me that weird smirk. “It’s okay. That’s the little game we’re playing here.” He hiccups.
“I wasn’t jealous.” My voice comes out sharp. I’m gripping the crutches harder than I need to, nails digging into the foam. “I don’t care if you have a girlfriend.” I gesture with my crutch for him to get out of the way. “Move.”
He steps closer and I shrink back, but there’s nowhere to go. I’m backed against the counter. My pulse skyrockets, pounding in my ears. I search for Rory but Connor’s in my way, moving in front of me, mouth on mine—
A horrified, revolted sound falls out of me and I flinch back, every cell in my body recoiling. Commotion explodes in the bar—noise and movement and energy. On instinct, I lift a crutch and swing it at his ankle. It connects with the bone and I feel the impact up the length of the crutch.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I bite out just as Rory hauls Connor off me with a murderous expression.
“Motherfuck.” Connor hisses in pain as Jamie and Hayden pull him back. “She hit me.”
“Get him the fuck away from her,” Rory thunders, searching my eyes with a frantic look. His chest is rising and falling fast and a muscle ticks in his jaw. “Are you okay, baby?” His hands come to my jaw, tilting it up as I nod.
“He kissed me,” I say, almost to myself, and I can feel my lip curling with disgust as I replay the gross beer smell, the feel of his lips mashing against mine. I swallow, pulse still racing. Behind Rory, Connor tries to shove Hayden off, but Hayden holds tight. For once, Hayden isn’t smiling. He wears the same furious, stony expression as Jamie.
“I know.” Rory’s voice is sharp like a knife but his gaze stays locked on mine. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
CHAPTER 54
RORY
Protective rage burns through me.
We never should have come here. We should have gone straight to Hazel’s place so I could tuck her into bed and keep her safe.
I take in the angry flush coloring her cheeks and the way her nostrils flare, and the urge to make it better fires through me like a bullet.
I was supposed to prevent stuff like this. That was the whole point of our agreement.
“I’m okay,” she says. Her throat works again. “Pissed off, but fine.”
Everyone in the bar is either staring at us as I help her to her seat or at McKinnon, still trying to shove Owens and Streicher off as they hold him like sentinels. They’re almost as furious as I am, and beneath the jealous rage, a pulse of gratitude hits me. Even if I wasn’t here, they’d stick up for Hazel. They know what she means to me, even if I’ve never told them explicitly, and they care about her.
When she’s seated, I give her a kiss on the top of the head. “You okay here for a moment?”
She nods, and I give her another kiss before straightening up and stalking over to McKinnon.
“Wrong move, McKinnon,” I call as I approach, shaking my head, feeling wild and out of control.
He hurt my Hazel. My Hazel. He thought he could help himself to her. He sent her lingerie.
This ends now.