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“Fine, fine, darling,” she sighs, facing me again. “Take care of my girl tonight. I will be watching the game for a glimpse of you two.”
Scarlett groans. I grin.
“Good night, Amelia,” I say and step backward down the first porch step.
Scarlett’s mother waves enthusiastically before she’s pushed inside and led down a hall, disappearing from view. A moment later, Scarlett comes back out, looking only slightly more relaxed.
I watch her lock the front door before turning around and fiddling with the strap of the bag thrown over her shoulder, avoiding looking at me, opting to stare at the wooden slats above us instead. Her mind is clearly somewhere else, and I can’t help but wonder where it’s wound up.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly.
“Yeah.”
I furrow my brows and shove my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching out to soothe her like I want to. “Then look at me. Tell me what’s going on.”
She shakes her head. “Brielle told me we were carpooling tonight. They’re waiting for us, right?”
“They are, but—”
“Please. Let’s just go,” she pleads.
I lean back on my heels and exhale. It goes against every instinct in my body to let this be, to go ahead with our plans when I know she’s hurting. But I told her before I wasn’t the guy that was going to push her, and I have to stay true to that. Even if doing so frustrates me beyond belief.
Softening my features, I nod in acceptance. “Okay, Scarlett. Let’s go.”
A brief flicker of appreciation before she’s a picture of calm and collected. The pain behind her eyes is gone, leaving them guarded. I grit my jaw at how deeply that upsets me when I know it shouldn’t.
I step down the porch stairs and wait for her to join me before we head for my car in silence. We’re so close my shoulder brushes her arm with each step, and the scent of cherry blossoms permeates the air between us. My head is full of white noise, and when I cautiously touch the back of my hand to hers and hold it there, her sharp inhale barely registers.
We don’t look at each other, but our hands stay pressed together until we reach the car.
For the second time in under a minute of play, a whistle blows, and the game pauses. Boos erupt in the arena as the referee calls a tripping penalty against a Warriors player, sending him to join his teammate in the penalty box.
With our team down two players and lacking a decent penalty kill these playoffs, the Vegas Crowns have a good chance at scoring a goal to tie the game. And with only ten minutes left in the third, frustration and anger vibrates in the air.
“That ref is a fucking idiot,” Scarlett hisses from her seat to my left. She has her elbows on her knees, scowling deeply. “Tremblay is a fucking diver if I’ve ever seen one.”
Banks grunts his agreement while I take a greedy gulp of my beer.
“Both refs have been playing with Vegas blinders on all game,” Brielle says. I peer over my shoulder to see her sitting in a similar fashion to Scarlett. Banks is more relaxed in the chair beside her, his legs spread wide enough for one to knock against Brielle’s.
“Tyler’s been insane tonight,” he states, and we all make noises of agreement.
Tyler has been insane tonight. But that’s not out of the ordinary. It’s why he gets paid the kind of money he does and wears an A on his jersey. A strong feeling of pride swells in my chest.
“Let’s see if he can keep the puck out of their zone. He’ll get my praise then,” Scarlett mutters.
My brows jump to my hairline. “This coming from the queen of the Bateman fan club?”
She turns to glare at me. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” I tease.
She doesn’t answer me because the ref blows the whistle again, signalling the puck drop. Suddenly, her attention is on the players facing off at the hash marks, her body tense and foot tapping. She slips her plump bottom lip into her mouth and chews on it nervously while watching the action on the rink. I swallow hard when my eyes get stuck there, and blood rushes to my cock.
Fuck.
My eyes are hot on her face, and when she turns to glare at me, visibly annoyed, I still can’t look away. Something on my face must surprise her because before she has the chance to snap at me for staring, she’s closing her mouth and turning a subtle shade of pink.
