Page 66 of Sterling Fight

However, I don’t want an altercation with Heather. Being my mother’s best friend’s daughter has nothing to do with my hesitancy. I’d been hopeful that Heather would come to terms with losing Judd, maybe even realize she didn’t want him. They are so different from one another.

From my history with Heather, there is no way she’s been sympathetic toward Judd’s past, if she even knows the half of it. I might not know all his secrets, but I know some dark details that make my skin crawl and make me believe Judd doesn’t share those stories easily or with just anyone.

Making a derogatory comment about his sexuality so publicly is not appropriate and couldn’t be further from the truth.

Sometimes a bully is a bully, and that’s calling it like it is.

With Heather put in her place by a world-famous music superstar, she huffs and spins on her heels, but not before a final jab at Cadence.

“And to think I used to be your biggest fan.”

Cadence waits a beat for Heather to walk away before she says, “I’m certain one of the nine-hundred ninety-nine thousand and nine-nine-nine behind her will be happy to step forward and claim her crown.”

“Careful.” Enya nudges her sister. “Your stardom is showing.”

Cadence laughs. “Every once in a while, it doesn’t hurt to let your ego glow.” Cadence tosses her hair over her shoulder in a mocking manner. “No one has time for that.” Yet Cadence glances after Heather with a twinge of sympathy on her face.

“How did they ever get together?” I mutter, more to myself than to the group collectively. Plus, Judd told me what happened, so my question is more rhetorical.

“Judd doesn’t want to admit it but he’s more a lover than a fighter,” Vale states nonchalantly.

I choke on a sip of my gin and tonic, reminded once more that Judd eventually told me his family was on a need-to-know basis about his fights, and he didn’t feel they needed to know.

“He’s craved the same deep connection all my brothers, and me, want but have struggled to find,” Vale continues.

“You didn’t have that connection with Hudson’s father?” I ask.

Vale’s son, Hudson, is nearly twelve. From my understanding, Vale has raised him since birth on her own, with mainly Stone’s help.

Vale turns her head and looks longingly across the bar. “No. It doesn’t take deep connection to make a baby.”

I nod feebly, sorry I brought up such a sore subject.

“Making babies can be so much fun, though,” Cadence breaks in, trying to turn the frown on Vale’s face into a smile.

“Who’s that?” I ask, hoping to change the subject as I glance in the direction Vale once did. A broad shouldered, thick armed man sits on a stool at the bar, nursing something dark in a short glass. His hair is dirty blond. His beard thick. He looks like a Viking in modern-day flannel.

Enya twists on her stool. “Isn’t that Cortland Haven?”

Vale doesn’t look back up, almost purposely keeping her head down, but I don’t miss her side-eye the guy for a second before she says, “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

There’s another story here but I already put my foot in my mouth about Hudson’s dad, so I don’t ask.

The waitress returns to the table with a shot topped with whip cream and sets it before Vale.

“What’s this?” Vale asks, glancing up at the young server.

“The message is ‘bees like something sweet’.” She nods at the mystery man in flannel, who isn’t looking at our table, but keeping his eyes trained on the large screen television with a baseball game on it.

“What is that?” Enya asks, staring at the concoction.

“A blow job shot.”

I wrinkle my nose. “A bit assumptive, don’t you think?”

I’m ready to defend Vale’s honor but Vale is already shaking her head, fighting the twitch of her lips. Her hand covers mine and stills the sudden desire to cross this bar and give flannel-man a what-for and a fuck-you.

Vale keeps her eyes on the shot, contemplating something, before whispering, “I’ll kill him.” She sets the glass before her, places her hands behind her back, and opens her mouth wide. Leaning forward, she wraps her lips around the shot glass then she tips up her head, swallows down the shot, and then grips the short glass, slamming it down on the table.