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“Always nice to see your beautiful smile, Willy.” Dallas is the only one who shortens Wilhelmina down to this instead of Hemi, probably because it annoys her.
“Eat your own dick, Dallas.” Hemi disappears into the pulsing crowd of bodies.
“Is it just me, or does she hate you more than usual this week?” Ash asks.
Dallas slides his hands into his pants pockets. “I feel like she’s warming up a little. Last week she told me she dreamed I contracted a case of genital herpes so severe my dick fell off. So telling me to eat it seems like a minor upgrade.”
“Wow. That’s a serious hate-on, isn’t it?”
Dallas nods. “Yeah, but there’s a fine line between love and hate, so maybe she’ll eventually get tired of hating me.”
Roman is still staring toward the dance floor, wearing a concerned frown.
I clap him on the shoulder. “She’ll be fine. And with Rix out there, Tristan will be on guard.”
We all look around for Tristan, but he’s gone, probably doing exactly what I said. Thank God. If I see someone put their hands on her, I’ll lose my fucking mind.
Roman blows out a breath. “I need a drink.”
We slide into the booth, and the dedicated bartender immediately appears to take our order. Dallas isn’t big on hard liquor, so he orders a pint.
This is the kind of club A-listers and sports figures frequent to avoid being swarmed by hordes of adoring, and sometimes overzealous, fans. I’m halfway through my scotch on the rocks when I spot Scarlet. She’s with a costar who looks familiar.
“Did you post on socials?” I ask Flip.
“Yeah, why?” His gaze follows mine. “Oh, shit.”
“Oh, shit is right,” I mutter as her friend points in our direction and a wide smile breaks across Scarlet’s face. I guess if I have to see her, it’s better that I’m with friends and in a public place.
“You still interested in her?” Flip asks as she approaches.
I shoot him a look.
“Is that a no or a yes?”
I don’t have time to respond, because she’s right in front of us.
“Hi! Hey! I wondered if you’d be out tonight!” she shouts over the music.
I don’t want to be a rude asshole, so I slide out of the booth to greet her. “Hey. How are you?”
She’s stunning. That hasn’t changed. But based on the way my stomach is roiling, I’m still not cool with the way things ended between us all those years ago.
“I’m good. It’s so good to see you.” Her eyes move over me in an appreciative way, and her expression turns coy.
I used to find it sexy, but now I feel nothing.
“You look great.” Her hands settle on my chest, and she kisses my cheek.
“You too.” I awkwardly pat her back and am grateful when she stops touching me.
It doesn’t last long, though. She grabs my forearm, expression earnest. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you. I just…I’ve wanted to talk for such a long time.”
Ripping the Band-Aid off is the best way around this. “We were bound to run into each other, eventually.”
“Especially with me watching you on the ice. Will you be back in the game soon?”
“Hopefully.” God, this is awkward. “Why don’t I introduce you to my teammates?”
