#playerdown: Players to Men Page 3

  Was this place still the players’ hangout when two of the trio were now hitched to my best friends? I wasn’t sure. My gaze slid straight to the former players’ table at the back of the bar. And there he was, talking to the guys.

  I remained rooted to my spot just off the doorway, debating my idiocy in coming, especially after what had occurred at the Cheetah’s parking lot earlier.

  Heck, no, I straightened my spine. I wasn’t hiding from the pain-in-my-backside. And, as if he knew I’d finally rocked up, War glanced to the entrance, a faint smile creeping to the corners of his sinful mouth.

  I scowled, my reflex reaction when it came to him.

  With War watching me, I forced myself to move, trailing behind a group of people looking around for a table.

  But heck. I’d give the snake his due, he was infuriatingly gorgeous.

  Overgrown, sun-kissed brown hair brushed his neck, offsetting his lean sculptured features and stone-cut jaw—he’d shaven off the scruff. His black t-shirt stretched across his wide chest and thick shoulders, the short sleeves revealing some of his tatts, a chaos of abstract designs on his biceps. He might not be someone I would ever date—did he even date?—but War was panty-melting hot. No wonder women ran after him.

  Those striking blue eyes remained fixed on me, like a spider waiting. Its web spun.

  Waiting? Ugh, he’d already trapped and reeled me in as free labor.

  How the hell did I land myself in this situation?

  Oh yeah, the supposedly ten-dollar insult.

  Gah! Did he think I had money floating around just because I lived in Pacific Heights? My mother was rich, not me. Of course, Mother would have a coronary if she found out her only daughter was pulling weeds for a man-ho hockey player. Her belief was to marry well, ensure an excellent prenup, usually in the millions, for just in case, meaning, if the skank—aka husband—cheated. And after four ‘just in cases,’ one husband dead—not counting my late dad who’d been a lowly professor in NYC—she was rolling in money.

  Before I started hyperventilating, and needing all my wits about me to deal with a certain, sneaky hockey player, I shut out thoughts of my mother.

  As I neared them, he dragged a chair from another table and plonked it right next to him. Man.

  “You made it!” Ila leaped up, as did Ray. I hugged my friends, and then I was forced to sit next to War. Coolly, I crossed my legs, determined to keep enough space between us, and dropped my tote on the floor next to me.

  “We’re so glad you came,” Ray piped up. “How did the interview go?”

  “Got the job.”

  “Told ya,” she grinned, playing with her tongue piercing with her front teeth.

  “Yeah.” I flicked back a lock of my long, corkscrew hair which I’d left free and hanging down my back.

  “Hey, Charli,” Max greeted me, deep green eyes twinkling.

  War shifted in his seat and his hard thigh slid against mine as if determined to remind me he was there. How could I forget? Even in this place drenched with liquor and food, I felt as if I stumbled into a sprawling pine forest submerged in sunshine. His heady scent curled around me, fraying my already strung-out nerves, thanks to him.

  “Champagne?” Jack asked, nodding at the Bollinger in a bucket on the table.

  Jack always appeared as if he stepped out of a fashion shoot for formal wear or something. And heck, he did have the model looks to go with his inky hair and ice-gray eyes.

  I shook my head in refusal. Oy, liquor and I didn’t mix well.

  “I got this,” War said.

  I tugged down my short skirt riding up my thighs, furtively shifting away. He rose, making my attempt at keeping a distance futile. Relief flooded me, though, because I could finally change seats. He lowered his head to mine. “Here’s your chance to switch.”

  With that taunting comment, he strolled off. Now he knew I wouldn’t. Man, I needed a drink, and didn’t care I was a lightweight.

  “What’s the book about, the one you’re working on?” Ila asked.

  Thankfully, the undercurrent between War and me hadn’t reached her yet. I still wanted to kill him for the stupid deal he’d trapped me into.

  “Kama Sutra illustrations,” I deadpanned.

  Both Max and Jack’s gaze shot to me. My friends gaped.

  “Well, it seems people want to see proper pictures rather than the eroding, erotic sculptures.” I mentally made a note to do some sketches for my horny friends. Later, I would tell them that I’d been commissioned to work on a children’s book. “And Cooper, the author, wants to do it in great detail.”

  Ray grinned. “I want to see this.”

  “Me, too,” Ila chimed in.

  “Heck, I’ll buy the damn book once it’s in print.” Max draped his arm around Ila’s chair, cocking an eyebrow, and she blushed, red staining her tan cheeks.

  “Make that two.” Jack smirked, and Ray rolled her hazel eyes at him and laughed. “Can’t wait.”

  Teasing my friends was fun, but being here with them and their husbands made me feel like the oddball out.

  A familiar, sinewy forearm with a light dusting of hair came into my line of vision, sliding a drink in front of me, floating with mint leaves and ice. My heart skidded in my chest.

  “Mojito, right? Light on the vodka?” War said, his corded arm brushing mine as he sat again. A shiver raced through me, straining every nerve like I needed the added pressure.

  “Yep, a total lightweight.” Ila grinned. “We both are.”

  Unable to ignore him, I looked up and fell into eyes of the deepest ocean-blue, suddenly feeling as if a vacuum had sucked out all the oxygen from the bar, and my lungs were slowly shutting down.

  A little glint appeared in his eyes. “I know,” he answered Ila.

  It took a moment before I could get my feeble brain to function, and I inhaled sharply. He remembered how I took my drink, even my preference for vodka over rum, and that I didn’t consume a lot of alcohol. That unsettled me a bit.

  “Thanks,” I murmured as he reclaimed his seat.

  Somehow, War’s chair appeared closer to mine. I could actually feel his body heat. Maybe, the table had grown too small with the extra chairs.

  “War?” Max snagged his attention, and I exhaled gratefully since it stopped his quiet tormenting of me. Not that he did anything. Jeez, the guy just had to be, for godsakes!

  The food came. Platters of wings, nachos, dips, and mini burgers. Ila switched places with Max.

  “War, scoot over, let me sit next to Charli,” Ray said, rising to her feet.

  Without a word, he did, cutting me an amused smile. It took everything in me not to glower as both my friends flanked me.

  “So…the secret honeymoon, where was it?” My attention shifted to Ila, realizing then I hadn’t asked anything about it when we met earlier at the hockey rink. Well, not my fault I was thrown for a loop during Ray’s reveal, and the stupid bet which left me in my current dilemma—weeding for the maddening man.

  “Italy. It was heavenly.” Ila sighed. “I have vids and pics, but it’s still on my USB. We’ll have dinner at the loft soon, and I’ll show you.”

  “And you?” I asked Ray, lowering my voice. “Don’t tell me you hid out in Jack’s bedroom for the three weeks?”

  She laughed. “No, actually, we went to Bora Bora last week. I had to wait for my new passport. Man, the place is amazing.” While Ray showed me her snapshots and videos on her cell, I became aware of the women watching our table. Max was taken, and so was Jack, but the outside world didn’t know Ray and Jack were a couple.

  Frowning, I followed the groupies’ gaze… to War. I snorted. Of course.

  Those blue eyes turned to me like we had a cord attached between us or something. Hastily, I took a sip of my drink.

  A redhead, poured into a skintight dress, stopped to talk to War. It was hard to keep my gaze away from them as I drank more of my mojito.

  War and I were two ships passing in the nig
ht. Granted, it would dock in the same harbor for the week of gardening ahead, but that was it. Grown-up me knew I had to get on with my life, focus on my career, not spend it getting entangled with the resident hockey star and player.

  “Okay, before you distract us again,” Ray whispered, “want to tell us what’s up with you and War? I saw Instagram. You guys are trending.”

  “What?” Nooo! I wanted to bang my head against the table, my worst fears realized.

  Ray frowned. “Did you not see it?”

  “No, I was busy with the interview and stuff.”

  “Yes, I saw that, too,” Ila said, keeping her voice low. “And that look just now between you two? I thought you didn’t care for players, well, you know what I mean?”

  “That hasn’t changed,” I said, my tone flat, aware the redhead had left. Who knows where she’d tucked her phone number on him?

  “Look.” Ray got out her cell and slid to the snapshot of us taken outside the Cheetah’s training facilities, on Instagram. War had me tucked into his chest. I appeared petite and short against his tall, tough body, and worse, I was staring up at him like he was the brightest star in my universe. God!

  The line below the snapshot caught my attention: Hockey menace on ice and off says she’s his forever girl.

  And a whole lot of hashtags, along with my name. Jesus Christ. Seriously? How did they get my name—

  Of course. Easy enough to find my info on the internet since I was mentioned in Ila’s society wedding as one of her bridesmaids.

  I wanted to face-palm my heated cheeks. Instead, I kept it brief. “He needed a quick getaway from the groupies, and since I was passing by—oh, hell!” I bit back a groan. “When my mother sees this…”

  “He’ll pass muster, if she checks him out.” Ray patted my arm, trying to reassure me. My friends knew of the ongoing friction with my mother. “I mean he’s good-looking and a sports star, not some loser, so you’re good there.”

  If only it were that simple.

  “Oh, crap,” Ila whispered, staring past me. “Don’t look, but one guess who just walked into the bar.”

  I grimaced. “My mother?”

  She didn’t laugh like I expected her to do. So, I cast a furtive glance over my shoulder and glared. Man, could this day get any worse?

  Craig Stevens. Cheater extraordinaire. In a bar catering to the masses, one he would never visit while sober. And he looked real sober to me. He stood there, yakking to two of his fellow pilot pals. Oh, I knew the ho-gang from when I dated him.

  Tall, lean, and tan, with well-styled dark auburn hair and a pair of sultry hazel eyes, the crud-spawn still looked good. The last time I saw him, he’d been grim-faced. He’d rocked up to collect his stuff, and instead discovered the bonfire I’d made of his clothes, his expensive, empty liquor bottles littered among the ashes.

  Yep, I burned all his shit after finding out what the bastard was up to when his hook-up answered his cell during his overnight stopover in Spain.

  Craig stopped at the bar with his pals, laughing, seeming on high. The slank!

  It was a word I apparently coined while wasted after finding out he’d cheated on me and I’d slurred the sword slut and skank as one, or so Ila had told me, and it stuck.

  I faced the table and gulped down the remainder of my drink.

  Ila stroked my back. “Forget him, Char. He’s not worth it.”

  The point was, I’d once cared about the louse, but he’d trampled all over my heart. “I know.”

  My head spun, and my stomach heaved. I glanced over my shoulder again. Craig turned, surveying the place, and his gaze lit on me. A smile started.

  Hell, no.

  “Ila, Ray, I’m sorry, I have to go. My evening just got ruined.” I grabbed my bag from the floor. “I’ll call, and we can meet up during the week.” I shot to my feet and weaved between the patrons, heading for the door.

  “Charlotte!”

  Dammit. Slowly, I turned. He was already striding toward me, a broad grin on his face as if we were besties. Might as well get this nauseating task done.

  “You look beautiful as always, babe. I’d hoped to see you here. I called you—”

  “Why?” I asked coldly. I’d deleted him from my contacts. Too bad if he’d forgotten that I never answer unknown numbers.

  No, I was no longer that foolish girl who believed in rainbows and fairytales. I’d had the rose-tinted glasses brutally ripped from my romantic outlook, where every love story ended with bells and hearts, exposing the idiot who trusted so blindly.

  He sighed heavily, raking his fingers through his hair, eyes dark with regret. “You just disappeared. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain anything.”

  “Explain what?” My hand clenched the strap of my tote, my legs shaking in my heels, hating that those old wounds would reopen now. We’d been together for a year, and I’d been in love with the cur!

  I was just glad this place was packed, and none of the people here knew Craig or me, at least not to take pics and post them on stupid IG and wreck my life further.

  Fighting for a semblance of calm, I glanced back at the players’ table and found them watching me. I knew Ila and Ray would be concerned, and maybe their guys, but when my gaze connected to a pair of narrowed dark blue ones, I shifted so I couldn’t see him. Dead sure my friends must have enlightened the men as to who Craig was.

  He sighed and moved closer to me as more people passed us. “Can we go somewhere quiet and talk?”

  “I have nothing to say to you.” I stalked out of the bar, stepping into the warm evening air. I inhaled deeply, trying for a calming breath, the odor of exhaust fumes crowding my nose. Heat rose from the sidewalk, enclosing me in a sweaty hug.

  “Charlotte, wait!” Dammit. He’d followed me outside. “About what happened the night you called me in Spain—”

  “For god’s sake, Craig!” I snapped, pivoting to him. “It’s been over for two years. I’ve moved past it. Move on.” I whirled off. But he grasped my wrist, stopping my escape. “Give me a moment, please.”

  “Let me go,” I hissed, backing away and knocking into someone behind me.

  “Take your hand off her, or I will.”

  At the terrifyingly cold voice, my heart pounded, and I wheeled around. My eyes widened.

  War stood there, the moonlight highlighting the hard plane of his face etched in stone, not a shred of emotion revealed in his flat stare. Yet, I felt his anger, cold and deadly, surrounding me like a lariat.

  Craig hurriedly dropped my wrist, eyeing War warily. While Craig was of average height and possessed a swimmer’s build, War stood much taller, his body wired with hardcore muscles.

  No, Craig wouldn’t want his smooth looks rearranged.

  “I meant no harm, Charlotte,” he said quickly. “You know that.”

  “Do you want to talk to him?” War asked in that same cold, unemotional voice.

  I shook my head, just wanting to get out of this nightmare.

  “Charlotte, please. I—”

  “You ready to leave?” War cut him off.

  Trapped between a rock and a hard place, I chose the rock. The hard place was never to be repeated. “Goodbye, Craig.”

  Did he think I was available for a quickie? Damn idiot. I was so done with asses like him.

  I stalked off down the street. War remained at my side, easily keeping up with my stride. Some distance from the bar, I stopped and got out my cell. “I didn’t need help, but thank you,” I told him. “I’ll get a cab.”

  “I’m taking you back.”

  “No.”

  “Charli—”

  “Look.” I faced him. “It’s enough I have to weed your garden tomorrow, but I’ve had it with lying, cheating jerks!”

  “I’ve never cheated on you.” His tone cool, he slid his hands into his pants pockets.

  Too worked up to care, I snapped, “Oh, please, with you, it’s wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.”

  “I don’t de
ny it. The women I’ve been with knew the score.” His stare held mine. “But that brainless twit was in a relationship with you, and he cheated—”

  “Every damn time, in the different countries where he had overnight stopovers, until I found out…” I swallowed hard.

  “Then he’s a sac-less loser. You’re better off without him. C’mon.” He grasped my hand and headed down the block to a side alley where he’d parked his truck. But feeling those firm, calloused fingers on mine, I forgot my irritation at Craig’s manipulation attempt. “Why are you being nice now, when you were a real pain in my ass earlier?”

  Grim laughter. “I’m not nice, Charli. I’m never nice. I just don’t like anyone being taken advantage of.”

  Ohhh. That threw me off my ire. “I could handle him.”

  “Not from where I was standing.”

  “I’m not talking about physical strength,” I said, keeping my attention on the pavement, so I didn’t have to look into those disturbing, intense eyes. The warmth from his grip was already causing enough havoc to my hyperaware nerves. I pulled my hand free and shifted my tote to my other shoulder. “I burned every one of his designer suits and drank some of his expensive liquor, and I think I flushed the rest down the toilet.”

  “Good for you. If he comes after you again, I’ll knock his teeth down his throat.”

  Jeepers. From his flat gaze, he meant it. “Why would you take on my battles when you hardly know me? Besides, you can’t get in another fight, or so I heard.”

  A fleeting smile graced those sensual lips. “Keeping tabs on me, Blue? Good to know.” Before I opened my mouth, his expression turned forbidding. “If it was a woman, a child, anyone defenseless, and some scum strong-armed or abused them, I would do the same in a heartbeat.”

  At his words, the surge of annoyance at the stupid name he persisted in calling me faded a little. Despite his wild side and player image, War, I realized, had a protective streak a mile wide.

  WAR

  Twice in one day, I found myself driving to Charli’s home, not that I minded. The streetlights cast dull circles of light on the sidewalk in the quiet road, the dots tapering off into the distance as I slowed outside the mansion.