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I hold my hand up to stop him from speaking anymore. “I hadn’t seen Rori since she was ten years old. That’s why I didn’t recognize her and she had to tell me who she was.”
“What’s the age difference between you?” Darius asks.
“Ten years.”
“Cradle robber!” Murphy shouts.
“Daddy Kaiden,” Ryder says, snickering.
“That’s Captain Daddy Kaiden to you,” Murphy adds, and the four of us burst out laughing.
It’s a good thing their hockey skills compensate for the ridiculous shit they say.
“Did I clear everything up for you guys?” I ask and instantly regret giving them more opportunity to pry.
“Good luck, Cap. I hope things work out for you and Rori,” Darius says.
“Thanks, man. Whatever happens, it’s nice to have her back in my life.”
“You could always hook up again with the older sister,” Murphy suggests.
I shake my head. “That’s never going to happen.” I don’t know what Valentina’s life is like now. Rori and I haven’t spoken about her, but I have no interest in going back down that dead end.
“Will Rori be there on Saturday too?” Ryder asks.
“What’s Saturday?” I ask.
“You said we could come over.”
“I don’t remember that. I must be dehydrated from working out.”
Ryder narrows his eyes at me. “Like hell you are. I’ll be over at noon.”
* * *
I sit down on a vacant stool on the side of the bar and smile at Rori. She hasn’t seen me yet.
“What’s got you feeling so down?” Jace, a baseball player I recognize from the Charleston Bats asks. She wrinkles her little nose. “Nothing worth wasting time talking about. How are you doing?”
Wait a second. She does seem off. I hope everything’s okay. I hadn’t planned on coming here tonight, but I’d been sitting at home thinking about how much I wished she was there with me. I figured there was no reason I couldn’t drop in and surprise her.
“I’ve got nothing to complain about,” he says.
“How’s the batting average this season?” she asks, setting clean glasses on the shelf beneath the bar.
“If you don’t know, I guess you’re not watching the games,” he points out. He smirks and raises the bottle of beer to his lips.
“In my defense, there are a lot of baseball games. I don’t know how fans watch them all,” she says.
“Tell me about it. You should try playing in all those games.” He rubs his right shoulder. “I’m just kidding. I know I’ve got it good.”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice you never answered about your batting average.”
“What can I say, I don’t want to jinx it, Rori.”
She rests her arms on the bar, leaning toward him, and a fiery arrow of jealousy hits my chest dead center, burning.
“Are you superstitious?” she asks.
