Page 52 of Never Pucking Ending

Her voice raises by the end of her rant, catching the attention of a few people beside us. Most of them don’t know who we are, which is great. There’s a guy three tables down who does a double take and elbows his friend at the table beside his to look over here.

I do my best to ignore them.

“You’re ridiculous,” Belle tells me. “I cannot believe you came all this way to spy on me. If you want to make Head feel better, you could have at least taken him somewhere he likes eating.”

Head pipes in then. “I don’t hate Italian food. And have you had their bread? Better than Cheesecake Factory.”

He has, in fact, been going to town on the breadbasket they left for us. And while I doubt it’s that hard to beat Cheesecake Factory, nobody chimes in to dispute the claim.

Belle closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, mouthing a countdown that goes to five before opening them up to look at me again. “I don’t know why you’re here or what game you’re playing, but I told you the reason I was here already. The fact you didn’t believe me and came makes me really, really mad. Just…” She shakes her head, wetting her lips. “Don’t cause a scene. Okay? No more drinks or unnecessary comments. Don’t embarrass me.”

That’s what she’s worried about? Me embarrassing her? I’m the one who has my balls in a wad knowing my stepsister is on a pseudo-date with another man and brought my teammates here to witness it. If anybody has a reason to be embarrassed, it’s me.

“It isn’t that I thought you were lying—” I begin, but she won’t let me finish that thought.

“No. You don’t get to change the narrative because you were called out on it,” she informs me, glancing over her shoulder at Dane. His eyes are on his phone, not over here like mine would be if some dude sent the girl I’m at dinner with a drink and she walked over to them.

The guys are all quiet as I get reamed out.

I say the only thing I can think of when I see a semblance of hurt flash in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I’m not sorry for coming here or spying on her, but I am sorry for upsetting her. So it isn’t a lie. Not completely, anyway.

She takes another deep breath. “Enjoy your dinner,” she murmurs, turning to walk back to her table.

Head calls out, “Can you still make me those churros you talked about, or is that off the table now?”

Dawson smacks him upside the back of his head, getting a noise of protest from the injured defenseman. “You’re an idiot,” Dawson tells him.

Head shrugs. “It was an honest question.”

One that Belle did not answer before sitting back down across from Dane.

Moskins sips his drink. “That went well,” he muses, stealing a piece of bread before Head demolishes the entire basket.

Raymond grins.

Head snickers.

And I don’t have the energy to glare at them.

After a few minutes of silence, Head breaks it with a mouthful of food. “Damn. I kind of want a burrito now.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Belle

It’s not a date.

I’ve repeated that in my head for the rest of the night. Especially when the waitress drops our check off and Dane picks it up before I can. He even passed his credit card over before I could get mine out.

He walks me out to my car in silence, not touching me and making sure to keep a respectable distance. I appreciate him not bringing up Jesse or his friends staring at us all night. They weren’t even trying to hide it. Half of them were sending us flirty waves whenever I dared glances over there, which was hard not to do when I knew Jesse was in the same room.

It doesn’t take long for us to get to my car, parked amongst the busy lot of other vehicles that are mostly all nicer than mine. I notice the dark blue Tahoe parked a row down from me almost instantly, and irritation flares in me again.

He’s still in there, but I wouldn’t be surprised if him and his stupid teammates come out to make sure nothing happens with Dane.

Ugh. Ugh.