Eric and I start laughing, eyes shining with relief that we’re together again. His fingers tangle in my hair, and mine slide up his back as he asks me, “Be my girlfriend?”
“Yes!”
“One more thing.”
“Anything you want.”
“Who the fuck told you about the bet.”
Biting my lip I shake my head as a fresh knock sounds on the door.
Eric shouts, “We’re coming out now, hang on!” Locking eyes with me he asks again, “Wren, you need to tell me.”
My mouth goes lax, but firms as I make the decision. “It was Bethany.”
CHAPTER 40
ERIC
Scooping her hand into mine, vision blurred by fury, we barrel out of the bathroom. “Eric, what are you gonna do?”
“What needs to be done.”
She tugs on my hand. “Stop!”
“I’ll handle this.”
Yanking as hard as she can gets my attention. Wren touches my chest, speaking very slowly. A bartender knows how to deal with men who lose their temper—you get real calm. Slowly and quietly she soothes me, “Eric, I’m angry at her, too. But it’s not right to shame anyone in public. She’s just one person and you have a team of players who are twice her size. This could seriously damage her for a long time. Picture it. The audience, all your fans, not hers. Why do you think I quit?”
As I listened I was too angry to understand, she made little sense, but this question cuts through, gets me a little curious.
“Why?”
Stepping closer, she patiently explains, “If you had made that bet, even if you were in the wrong, I would not have been treated well after.”
I stare in shock because she’s right. Mob mentality is a serious problem. People have a lot of rage in their hearts from all the shit they have to go through, that they bottle up. When they find a place to put it, it doesn’t matter if it’s the right place—or if it’s the wrong thing to do or not—there’s little chance of stopping them. That’s where bullying comes from a lot of times.
I wasn’t raised to be a bully.
I drag a hand through my hair and become aware of the people around us. I’m upset and they want to know why. There’s excitement behind their eyes, thinly disguised as concern. I’m their hero and if I’m about to get in a fight they’re behind me all the way. If I call Bethany’s actions out in public, afterward it’d be like when a girl gets followed around high school with people hissing, “Slut.”
Sliding my hand in Wren’s hair I pull her in for a quick kiss, proud of her, and glad she kept a cool head, was able to talk me down from the ledge. We might need that in the future.
My family is known for their tempers.
But as soon as our lips touch I don’t want it to end, so I slip my other hand in. She holds me close, sweet fingers pressing into my back as our tongues taste each other, jaws unlocking with the hottest kiss. People start applauding and that just eggs me on. This’ll teach Bethany and everyone here.
Wren’s mine.
I’m hers.
Fuck anyone who has a problem with it.
I drop my hands to her ass and she jumps up with me holding her, legs hooking around my hips. She starts laughing as we grind in front of everyone, making the crowd go ballistic, the applause thunderous. Our kiss continues as they shout…
“Get her, Eric!”
“That’s how to fuckin’ do it!”
“Yeah Wren, show him what you’re workin’ with!”
“Wooohooooo!!!”
“Damn baby, DAMN!”
Cracking up, she and I break and I set her down, grinning into her laughing eyes, the copper glinting with love for me. I can see it, unabated.
My anger at Bethany for what she did to us is still here, but now I’ve got control over it, not the other way around. I’m not gonna let this slide. Not a fuckin’ chance.
Pressing one, quick, punctuating kiss on my girl’s smile I take her hand and walk over to my team. The guys are grinning, and all except for Dion has a female attached to their hips.
Since he and Eleanor made it official a couple weeks ago, everyone knows he’s taken. Especially since she regularly makes trips by our group so he can slap her ass on the way.
“Guys, I want you to officially meet my girlfriend.” I proudly scan their nods, grins, and grunts. “Wren, these are the men who’re gonna win the Super Bowl.”
They explode into masculine battle-cries of impending victory, their mugs thrust into the air so fast the craft brew splashes them and their women. And to men like us, it’s better than champagne popping its cork.
I lock eyes with Bethany. She’s smiling with everyone, but it’s got fear behind it, like a rabbit ready to run. Flicking my glance to Tony, his beefy arm around her, my chin motions to the back of the bar. “Can we talk to you two?”
He frowns, can tell something’s up, but has no clue what it is. “Yeah, sure.”
Bethany’s lips go thin and he leads her out. Wren exchanges a look with me, and I squeeze her hand, can feel her pulse quicken as we split the dense crowd in half.
The emergency exit opens without a hitch or an alarm, and the four of us stand in a circle in the biting cold as the heavy door slams shut. Both girls cross their arms over their chests. We don’t.
Tony asks, “What’s up?”
I lock eyes with Bethany. “You want to tell him?”
“What don’t I know?” Tony demands, puffing up.
I’m glaring at Bethany. She flicks a look between us, then to Wren. But she says nothing. She’s a beautiful girl on the outside but ugly as sin on the in.
“You told Wren I took Tony’s bet and slept with her to win a thousand bucks. Since you know I didn’t take that bet, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Tony grimaces in disgust as
