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I know I said yes at CCs this morning to going out sometime at Sly’s, but will me going only encourage Logan? He needs a better influence.
Jolie misunderstands my hesitation. “Is Sly Bull’s too spit and sawdust for you now? You’re not one of these men who drinks martinis, are you?” She challenges my ego.
I gaze at Logan and narrow my eyes. Has he told his family he’s on a drinking ban? It’s not really about the drinking, though, it’s about the rest. He needs to sleep at night like a normal human being. I really should tell him not to go. Then again, knowing Logan, he’ll do what he wants, and if I don’t go, I won’t be able to make sure he doesn’t have more than one. “Logan, we need to get home by ten, though. Yeah?”
Jolie is confused. “Really? Why?”
Logan tips his chin at me then glances at Jolie. “We’re cursed. We’ll turn into pumpkins.”
She laughs. “Yeah. More like rats. A fat one and a dumb one.”
“It was mice inCinderella,” Logan corrects her. “And I’m not fat.”
She rolls her eyes.
I punch Logan’s arm. “Guess that means you’re the dumbass.”
Jolie giggles. She always loved it when I messed withLo. “Look at my brother. All polished up on the Disney characters.”
“Eve taught me well,” he says with no shame.
My gaze connects with Joey’s, and we share a moment of amusement at Logan’s expense. Logan doesn’t need us to insult him. He often does it inadvertently to himself. It’s the smallest crack in an otherwise perfect facade that makes him so likable. But our shared moment goes from focusing on Logan to me thinking about how beautiful she is now, and I’m not sure if she sees the shift in my eyes, but hers flutter to the ground before too long.
“We’re meeting at seven. To be honest, I have a lot of early starts these days anyway.” She pats Fred’s rump, bends down to grab her vet kit off the ground and hoists it over her shoulder. “And Logan?”
He tips his chin up, listening.
She lowers her head and peers out of two hypnotic emeralds. “I know why you can’t stay out late. If you think you’re having more than one drink tonight, I’ll have you cut off.”
His eyes widen at being caught out. “Ball buster.”
Jolie turns on her heel and waves her hand in the air, owning it. It always was hard to pull a fast one on her. She’s been around boys all her life, and anyway, men only ever hide two things. Too many women and too much booze.
Her ass swishes and sways as she walks away in the sand of the arena. Her voice echoes in the open space, an invitation I didn’t realize I’d been waiting for.
“See you boys later.”
Everything was so hectic in LA, I never had time to imagine what it would be like living back here again. But something about this scene—me, Lo, and Joey around the horses, messing around… it’s normal in the best possible way. It’s one of those moments where you think you had to experience all the bad to have the epiphany. I belong here. Maybe not in my old bedroom still sporting a Wayne Gretzky poster from the nineties, but most definitely in Starlight Canyon.
Chapter Four
“I’ll take a Chimayo Blondie, Izzy.”
The handsome bartender tips his chin to acknowledge my order and snatches a bottle from the ice buckets under the counter. He snaps the lid off with a fizzle. “You’re alone tonight?” He pours the drink into a pint glass. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
It’s true. The combination of not knowing a lot of available people in Starlight Canyon and working ungodly hours doesn’t leave a lot of time for Sly’s. Not that I care about going out as much as I used to. At thirty-one,and after all those crazy years with Eric Larose, NHL party animal, I’d rather Netflix and chill. Though I always imagined when that day came, it would be under a blanket with a special someone.
“I’m waiting for my brother and some friends.”
“Ah, going to be a big one tonight?” Izzy asks. “Scorpions have a day off tomorrow?”
Everyone knows Logan likes to shut a place down. The comment sends a wave of guilt sloshing through my stomach. I know Ashton imposed a curfew earlier because Logan must have another drinking ban by his coach. And I should have disinvited them. If there’s such a thing. Lo doesn’t have a problem with liquor. He has a problem with being alone.
“I’ll have one of those,” a manly voice booms behind me. Very close behind me.
Izzy’s eyes slide upward, practically to the ceiling, so I know the voice can only belong to the Great Dane.
I turn and he’s gazing down at me but mostly I only see that crooked, half-smile of his. A baseball cap casts a shadow over the top half of his face like he’s a man of mystery. I know he wears it because he doesn’t want the attention he gets as a celebrity. He never liked attention, but even when he just played for Golden Sierra, he got a lot of it.
