Bringing the bubbly liquid to my lips, I slightly grimace. It’s just so fucking sweet. I want a beer.
“Doing better now. Ryan has a few people he wants to introduce me to tonight, so if all goes well, I’ll be working in sports again, and even better, I’ll be living in the same city as you.”
Brett reaches out, stroking a piece of my smooth and straight hair, running it between his fingers. “I love when you wear your hair like this.”
I turn my head away from him, not sure if I like him touching me again. But also, not sure if I don’t.
“Stevie, I’m so happy to see you,” Brett says out of nowhere. My eyes dart to his, completely confused. We haven’t dated in years. We haven’t spoken in years. He’s just out of options.
“Don’t say that,” I beg. “Not after the things you said.”
“What are you talking about?”
Does he really not know? Does he not realize that I heard him tell his whole team, sans my brother, that he had been using me for our entire three-year relationship? That he was moving on to better and hotter things as soon as he turned pro?
“All I know is suddenly my girlfriend fell off the face of the earth, and I never heard from you once we graduated.”
“Your girlfriend? Or the girl you were using to fill the time until you could move on to better things?”
“Stevie, what are you talking about?”
“I heard you!” My voice raises slightly, anger bubbling. “That day in the locker room. You told the entire team that you were only with me because you were bored and that you were going pro and would have endless options at your fingertips. I heard you.”
“Are you shitting me, Stevie? That’s why you’ve avoided me all these years? That’s locker room talk.”
Wait. Was it? Was I exaggerating this whole time about the words he said about me?
My brows furrow in confusion. Even if it was locker room talk, that’s exactly how he treated me for years—like I was an option, and he was waiting around for a better one. So, no. I’m not wrong.
“You need to get over it.”
My eyes dart to his. “Get over it?”
“Yes, get over it. You’ve avoided me for years. You’ve avoided my messages. But now we’re about to live in the same city, and I know you still have feelings for me. You always have. So don’t be like this just because you overheard some locker room talk.”
I have nothing to say because I’m not sure he’s wrong. Feelings probably isn’t the correct term, but maybe I have something to prove. That I’m better than the situation he put me in.
“Your family loves me. They’ve always wanted us together, and now I’m here. This isn’t over, and you know it.”
“It is over.” My tone has no conviction whatsoever.
“No, it’s not.”
“She said it’s over,” a commandingly strong and confident voice says behind me.
I can feel Zanders’ presence, and having him back me up, causes my spine to straighten, to stand a little taller.
From behind, Zanders reaches over me and pulls the barely tasted glass of champagne from my hands, leaving it on the table, before he slips a beer into my grasp instead.
“Holy hell!” Brett exclaims, a nervous laugh bellowing from his stomach. “Evan Zanders! I was hoping to meet you tonight. I’m Brett.” He reaches out for the defenseman to shake his hand, but Zanders refuses.
“Good to know. Can you give me a moment alone with Stevie?”
Brett fumbles, his hand retreating to his side. “Uh, sure thing.” His brows knit together. “Stevie, we’ll dance later.”
“No, you won’t.” Zanders’ large hand grips my hip from behind, staking a claim. The metal of his rings digs into my hipbone with his commanding touch, and I can feel the annoyance radiating off him.
Even though the touch is small, Brett catches it right away.
“Does your brother know?”
“Does my brother know what you said about me?”
Zanders’ grip on me tightens, his fingertips bunching the satin fabric, and the heat searing off him.
“No, does your brother know about this.” Brett nods towards the giant man behind me.
“There’s nothing for him to know.”
Zanders’ hand slips off me, making me miss his possessive touch, but still, he stays firmly rooted behind me, and having him here gives me the confidence I need.
“I think you should go, Brett.” I end the conversation with that.
“We’ll talk later.”
“I don’t—”
“We will talk later.” His tone is pointed and angry as he looks down at me then up to Zanders. But even though he’s trying to be demanding a-hole, I can see the intimidation in his eyes.
Good.
He always intimidated me in a way, so seeing the roles reversed, thanks to the sexy as sin man behind me, feels good.
Brett takes off, and Zanders slides around, facing me, with his eyes locked on the back of my ex-boyfriend.
“Who the hell is that?” Zanders casually leans one arm onto the high-top table next to us, looking like an absolute snack I want to devour.
Sweet baby Jesus, he looks good. Like real good. His tuxedo is all black, the entire thing tailored to fit every muscle of his body. His tatted hands extend past the cuffs, and his fingers are still decorated with his rings—just the way I like them.
“Stevie girl.” Zanders lifts my chin, causing my wandering gaze to lock with his. “I’m going to need you to stop drooling over me for a second and tell me who that is.”
My eyes narrow being called out like that, but he’s not wrong.
“That is my ex-boyfriend.”
“I hate him.”
“Shocking,” I laugh.
“What did you mean your brother doesn’t know what he said about you? What did he say about you?”
Zanders’ hazel eyes are pointed and focused, urging the words out of me, but my brother is right there, over his shoulder at the bar, and now is just not the time.
“Can we talk about it later?”
“Will we? Will you tell me later?”
“Yes, I will.” Which is true. I find myself being completely open and honest with Zanders, and I like talking to him. So yes, I will tell him if he cares to ask again.
Following his eyes with mine, I watch him take in every inch of my body. And I let him. I feel no need to cover up or turn to a more flattering angle when it comes to him.
“You look...” Zanders loses his words as his stare bounces between my breasts then lingers on my exposed leg, the one the thigh-high slit can’t cover.
“You’re beautiful, Stevie.” His tone is soft and authentic. “Unreal.” He shakes his head. His hazel irises make their way back to mine as they dance all over my face, taking me in.
“This dress is...yeah. Wow. Makes the green in your eyes disappear. They’re just blue tonight.”
Why is he saying it like that? It’s making my heart flutter and my lungs shrink.
“Your hair is pretty like this.” He doesn’t touch me. Instead, he nods towards it. “But I miss your curls. They’re your signature.”
A small smile lifts at my lips. I love my curls too, and here I am straightening them to impress someone who didn’t care to choose me.