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I don’t have a damn thing to say, feeling incredibly ill at ease given I’m an introvert and my wife is lurking somewhere. But she surprises me when she says, “How has it been coming into a zone defense when the Cold Fury played more man-to-man?”
I blink in surprise that she wants to talk hockey. And not because she’s a woman but it’s just most fans don’t want to talk logistics.
I manage an actual smile—relief that this is just hockey talk—and don’t feel out of place engaging. “Being out of the league for three years, it’s all an adjustment. But I’m adapting.”
“You most definitely are. I think this team is going to go far in the playoffs. Even has a real chance of going all the way.”
“That’s the dream, right?” I take a sip of my beer before asking, “So, are you now a Titans fan or still a Cold Fury fan?”
She grins. “You mean, who am I going to root for when they come here to play next week?”
“Time to pick a team…” My words trail off as I was going to insert her name.
She holds her hand out for me to shake and I don’t hesitate. “Lauren.”
“Pick a team, Lauren.”
I note that she doesn’t release her hold on me but instead, she steps in closer. “If you’re open to it, I pick you. For tonight, anyway. Interested in getting out of here?”
Jesus fuck.
I try to slide my hand free, but she grips hard and steps in even closer, going up on her tiptoes to put her face closer to mine. “Sorry if this is overly forward but I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re my favorite player and I’d kill to have a night alone with you. I promise I’ve got no boundaries in the bed and you will walk away a happy man.”
I’m on the cusp of jerking my hand free and taking a step back but then Lauren is suddenly ripped away from me. It takes me a split second to process that Simone has Lauren by the hair with one hand and the other has a fistful of the woman’s sweater. She pulls her back so violently that Lauren’s feet go out from under her, her bottle of beer flying.
“Holy shit,” I bark and shove my beer at the person standing closest to me.
By the time my hands are free, Simone’s on the floor with Lauren in a headlock and she looks like she’s ready to commit murder. “I should kill you for touching my husband but as it stands, I’m just going to have a really good time stomping your ass.”
“Get off me, you crazy bitch,” Lauren screams and reaches back to grab a hunk of Simone’s hair.
“Goddamn it, Simone,” I yell, reaching down to break her hold on Lauren. “Let her go.”
“Not until I get in a few good punches,” she snaps back. “She said she has no boundaries in bed. Well, I’ve got no boundaries protecting what’s mine.”
She heard all that, huh? I hadn’t even noticed her, but she must have been standing right behind me for that part.
Next thing I know, Boone is there and he’s reaching down to help me untangle the women. He tries to pull Lauren free as I clamp onto both of Simone’s wrists, but her hands are curled into tight claws in the poor woman’s hair and clothing. “Let her go.”
“Not until I teach her a lesson,” she snarls.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Simone. You’re causing a scene.”
I hate to say it and I’ll never admit it, but my wife looks fucking fabulous. Her eyes are blazing and her skin is flushed, chest heaving as she wants to kill this woman for propositioning me. I get it because I’d feel the same if a man did that to Simone.
“Let go of her hair,” I bark.
“Let me yank some of it out and I will,” she throws back.
“Get this bitch off me,” Lauren shrieks.
I can’t hurt my wife, but she’s got to release the other woman. I let go of one wrist and immediately put my fingertips to her ribs where I do nothing more than tickle her.
It’s Simone’s Kryptonite. She cannot stand to have her ribs touched, and she screeches the minute I start wiggling them against her.
Lauren is freed and Boone pulls her away from us. I latch onto Simone’s upper arm, hauling her up and grabbing her purse off the floor. I start moving her through the crowd. She doesn’t hesitate to let me guide the way until she sees the exit door looming and tries to put on the brakes.
“I’m not leaving.”
