It was the sweetest sight I had seen in ages and my heart was bursting with the love that was palpable in the room. It all sank in so hard—we truly were a family. Blood or not, we were all there for each other no matter what.

  Chapter 7

  Crosby

  Talk about a long ass night. Once we knew Olive was going to be all right, our group groggily parted ways, each of us heading to our respective homes. With the craziness of everything that had happened, Jordan and I didn’t have a chance to talk about anything. I hated feeling like we were in such limbo, but I didn’t want to seem too eager or pushy during a crisis situation.

  Sitting at my dining table, I picked at the eggs and bacon I had just made. Completely consumed with what my next move should be, I stared at my phone, barely able to eat a damn bite. I didn’t know how it was all supposed to work. If I called her the morning after, would that be too soon? Would a text be too informal? I was a ball of nerves and utterly shameful of my actions.

  Kissing Jordan Bates was something I had thought about countless times over the years, and drunkenly forcing her against a wall in front of my entire team and all of our friends had never been one of the scenarios my brain conjured up.

  I had always pictured us going to a hole-in-the-wall bodega or something of the sort, drinking sangria and talking about books and movies for hours on end. I knew how cheesy that sounded, but I craved the chance to sneak away with her. I longed for companionship more than anything else, and I’d realized it was something I hadn’t truly had even when I was married.

  I felt completely inexperienced when it came to dating someone I actually cared about. I had been with Mindie for so long, and then after her I had causally dated—well, more like slept with—a few women, but that was really it.

  Deep breaths.

  Just do it.

  You can do this.

  After a few long minutes of psyching myself up—getting my head in the game, so to speak—I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I came to her name. What do you have to lose? I felt like that was a loaded question to ask myself; there was a lot at stake. What if she was embarrassed from the public display and didn’t want to pursue things further? Though she had seemed happy when she’d quickly kissed me on the way to the restroom with Myla… I knew I was overanalyzing all of it to death, but I simply couldn’t help it. I was scared of losing her as a friend altogether.

  With one more deep breath, I tapped her name, letting my phone start dialing Jordan’s number. There’s no turning back now. My heart pounded and my hands started to shake. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was to even talk to her.

  “Hello?” The sound of her voice sent chills down my arms.

  “Hey Jordan, its Will.”

  I could hear her yawn and I glanced up at the clock next to me. Fuck, it’s eight in the morning. I felt like a jerk waking her up when she was probably going to be working a late shift that night.

  “Hey! I’m glad you called.”

  “Oh really? I’m sorry it’s early. I didn’t realize the time.”

  “Yeah, how could I not be? And don’t worry about the time—I need to get up anyway. We didn’t get a chance to really say goodbye last night.”

  “It was a crazy night, to say the least.”

  “I just hope Olive is all right. Have you heard anything?” The concern in her voice was so endearing.

  “I haven’t, but I’m sure Myla and Gavin will keep everyone in the loop. You know how Myla is.”

  She laughed a little. “You’re very right on that one.”

  “Listen, the reason I called is because I want to take you out.” The words came out before I was ready for them to. Take you out—who the fuck talks like that?

  “Is that so?” I could hear her smile in voice.

  “How about in a few days? We get back from Boston on Tuesday, so are you free Wednesday night?”

  She giggled, and I could picture her sleepily smiling while lying in her bed all cuddled up in her pajamas. “Wednesday is good for me. It’s a date.”

  I just about leaped out of my seat to jump for joy. “Perfect. I’ll send a car for you at seven if that works for you.”

  “Pulling out all of the stops, Crosby?”

  “I just want it to be perfect,” I admitted.

  “Well, so far so good. I’m excited.”

  “So am I. Once I figure out where I’m taking you, I’ll let you know the appropriate attire.” I felt so debonair.

  “I’m looking forward to that. I have to run and get in the shower because I have a meeting with the bar owner I’ve been working with in an hour and I’m running late as it is. Thanks for waking me up, Will. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Glad I could help. See you soon.”

  “Bye.”

  Jordan

  Is this real life?

  I sat in the bottom of my shower letting myself take a few minutes for the conversation with Crosby to sink in.

  “Am I really going on a date with Will Crosby?” I mumbled to myself as I shaved my right knee.

  My cheeks were starting to hurt from the complete elation consuming my face and entire body. I’d felt every cell buzzing with excitement from the moment his name scrolled across my phone screen only a few short moments before.

  After toweling off and getting dressed, I started to walk toward the restaurant for my exit meeting with Vince and his partner, Vito.

  It was a gorgeous morning—spring was just about to be in full swing and the brisk air wrapped around me as I called Myla.

  “Hey girl hey!” Her cheery voice boomed into the phone.

  “Hi! You’re never going to guess what just happened!”

  “Well, don’t keep me waiting. Please tell me it has something to do with Crosby.”

  “It definitely does!”

  “Oh my God—you slept with him, didn’t you?”

  I laughed. “No. I shared a cab with you last night, silly. You of all people know I went home alone.”

  “Oh right, sorry, I haven’t woken up completely yet. You know how badly I need coffee in the morning.”

  “Yeah, I do. Anyway, Will is taking me on a date when the guys get back from their game in Boston.”

  “Eeeeeeekkkkk!” I had to pull the phone away from my ear as Myla screeched. “This is the best! I can’t wait. I want all the details. Where is he taking you?”

  “He hasn’t told me yet, said he still has to pick a place, but he’s sending a car for me at seven on Wednesday and that is as far as the details go.”

  “Oh, please let me help you get ready!”

  “But of course!”

  “We can make a little girls afternoon out of it! I’ll see if Karla and Jessica are free.”

  I bit my lip, pausing outside the restaurant. “I just don’t want to make too big of a fuss out of this. What if we end up not working out?”

  “Oh fuck, Jordan, stop overthinking this. Just enjoy it.”

  “Yeah, okay. You’re right.”

  Chapter 8

  Crosby

  The days seemed to drag on, the anticipation of going out with Jordan all-consuming. We texted a little back and forth over the days, but with her busily trying to finish out her guest appearance at her last place and me practicing constantly, we didn’t get too much time to chat.

  Right as I got into the locker room, I rattled off a text to her.

  Me: Can’t wait for tomorrow.

  Jordan: I’m counting down the minutes.

  Me: I am too.

  Jordan: Get your head in the game! I’m going to be a wreck with this one.

  Me: Tell me about it.

  Jordan: You’ll be great. You always are.

  Me: Aw, shucks… Thanksssssss!!

  Awe, shucks – what in the fuck?! I don’t talk like that. This girl was really getting the best of me and I couldn’t help but enjoy the crap out of it.

  Jordan: It’s just the truth.

  Me: I’ll talk to you after the game. We’re about to start warm-ups.

  Jordan: Perfect. I’ll be watching as much of it as I can at work.

  Me: Have a good shift.

  Jordan: Give those guys a run for their money tonight.

  Me: I’ll try.

  It was nice being able to talk to a chick that cared about my team and the sport I was so passionate about. I had never had that before—Mindie couldn’t have cared less about sports of any kind, always saying they were too hard to understand. Thinking back on it, I realized that should have been a deal breaker.

  “What has you so happy?” Gavin already knew the answer to his question, or at least I assumed as much.

  I pulled my jersey over my head. “I’m sure you’ve been told the latest Crosby-Bates gossip.”

  “Been told what gossip?” Brayden came up to us, stick already clutched in his hand.

  “Crosby is taking Jordan out tomorrow night,” Gavin answered.

  “Oh yeah! That’s right. Congrats, man.” Brayden slapped my shoulder.

  I shook my head. “Of course you knew too.”

  “Oh but of course. Karla told me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Everyone is going to know everything about this relationship, aren’t they?”

  “When your teammates are married to the best friends of the woman you’re seeing, there is no privacy,” Gavin explained.

  Brayden threw his hands in the air. “Myla knew everything about Karla and me without me even having to tell her most of the time.”

  “Note to self, never tell Myla a secret,” I said teasingly.

  Gavin nodded in agreement. “For the most part, you’re right on the money with that one.”

  “Can we please get our heads in this game? We’re standing around gossiping like a women’s soccer team when we should be getting revved up for this damn bout.” Brayden was right. I needed to get my man-card back and become the beastly tender the Otters needed.

  Jordan

  This game—ugh! I was so nervous. It was the make-or-break night in the season, and the outcome would determine if the Otters were going to be in the playoffs or not. I hated when it was down to the wire. It was hard to even watch.

  The bar was packed, which was awesome and terrible all at once. I loved being busy, but I was supposed to be phasing out of this place and the bartenders were still relying on me more than they should. Instead of just observing and offering a little coaching from time to time, I had to dive in and fix mistake after mistake.

  “Excuse me?” A kind-looking lady flagged me down from the other end of the bar.

  “How may I help you?” I asked.

  “I ordered a cosmo and this is not even pink.”

  I took the drink from her. “I am so sorry about that, miss. I’d be happy to make another one for you.”

  I turned to Billy, the bartender who was working that section. “Come here, now.”

  His head hung low as he followed me to the corner. “What is this?” I held the martini glass in front of him.

  “Not a cosmo.”

  “Bingo. Now let’s try this again.”

  I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to rip my hair out, rip his hair out. There were some cocktails every bartender needs to know, and a cosmopolitan was very high up on that list.

  “Sorry Jordan.” Billy looked so defeated.

  “Don’t apologize. You’re better than this. Just stop rushing and get these drinks right.” I hated wasting liquor—it went against everything I stood for—and my heart hurt as I poured the incorrect drink down the drain. I watched closely as Billy struggled to remember the recipe.

  I stopped him as he reached for the grenadine. “You’re already messing up. What is in a cosmo?” I yelled to Bridget, who was filling a few pints of beer behind Billy.

  Even though she was annoying as shit, she knew her drinks well. “Vodka, triple sec, cranberry juice, and freshly squeezed lime juice.”

  “You’re done for the night, Billy. Go tell Vito I’m sending you home to study.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  He was deflated, but his feelings were not something I could care about. He needed to step up his game or find other employment, it was as simple as that. Sending the kid home made me feel like Jon Taffer from that show Bar Rescue, but oh well. I hated to think I was being a dick, but I needed to be a hard ass—that was what I was getting paid to do.

  “Bridget, Billy’s going home. I got his section.”

  “Aye, cap!” She gave me a little wink before going back to mixing another cocktail.

  In between making drinks and making sure all the customers were being taken care of in a timely manner, I caught glimpses of the game. The Otters were up five to four going into the third period, and the entire bar cheered with me when Harding scored another goal.

  “That kid is on fire tonight,” an older man remarked before asking for another whiskey on the rocks.

  “Chase Harding has undeniably turned into an incredible player,” I answered.

  “I was skeptical at first, but have been pleasantly surprised,” he added.

  “Oh, for sure, but he can handle a puck like nobody’s business.”

  “That’s for damn sure.” I handed him his next drink and he said, “Thanks. Are you a big hockey fan or do you just make stuff up to talk to your customers about?”

  I laughed, pulling up the bottom of my black polo to reveal an Ollie is my homeboy tank top. “I bleed hockey.”

  He raised his glass. “That’s fantastic. Who’s your favorite player?”

  My entire body got hot as I pretended to think about my answer. “Crosby. I have a soft spot for goalies.”

  The patron nodded his head. “I’ve heard he’s a really nice guy in person. Talented and not a dick—that’s a winning combination in my book.”

  I chewed on my lip. I wasn’t normally one to talk about how well I knew the players because I worried people would try some shady shit to get to know them. “I’ve heard the same thing.”

  The buzzer sounded and with that victory, the New York Otters secured their spot in the playoffs. I relished the thought of the beards that were going to adorn the players’ faces and my skin prickled with excitement. I mean, what girl doesn’t love hunky jocks with sexy beards? It was one glorious win for superstition in my book.

  Chapter 9

  Jordan

  “Do I bring my vibrator on the date?”

  Myla’s hand flew to her mouth as she tried to not spit her lemonade out everywhere. After swallowing and laughing for a few seconds, she choked out, “Fuck it—why not? With all the pent-up feelings and attraction you two have built up over the years, I will be shocked if you don’t fuck him tonight.”

  “But is it too slutty?” I asked while running the flat iron over the top portion of my hair to battle the frizzies. I was losing—my hair was not cooperating.

  “Totally slutty, but subtle enough.” Jessica was sitting on my floor, painting her toenails. “You don’t have to take it out of your purse, but have it just in case you want to use it.”

  “I’m really starting to get nervous.” My hair was not doing what I wanted it to, my makeup was still not perfect, I had no idea what I was going to wear, and the car was going to be at my place before I knew it.

  “You’re going to have the best time.” Karla topped off my wine glass before filling hers with the bottom of the bottle.

  “Just think about it—how perfect would it be if you guys got married?” Myla was probably already starting a Crosby-Bates wedding Pinterest board.

  “This is date one, My. Let me get through dating him before you start planning our nuptials.”

  She threw her phone down on the bed, huffing. “Fine. I’m just so damn excited.”

  “Where is he taking you?” Karla asked.

  “The Gramercy Tavern. I’m so excited to try it.”

  “So fancy,” Jess remarked before blowing on her wet nails.

  “What are you going to wear?” Myla asked.

  I shrugged. “Will said to wear a dress and heels.”

  “Little black dress with heels—you can’t go wrong with that,” Karla advised.

  I dove into my closet to find a little black number to wear. Finally, I found the dress I had in mind. I slipped it on and grabbed my leopard-print pumps. Walking out of the closet, I modeled my outfit for my girls.

  “So, what do you think?”

  They all started clapping.

  “It’s perfect!” Myla was so adorable bouncing on my bed with her little baby bump.

  “Are you sure? I really want everything to be perfect.”

  Jessica got up, checking out my necklaces where they hung on the rack. “You’re stunning, he’s crazy about you, and there is nothing for you to be worried about.”

  “I can’t believe we are finally doing this.” Crosby took my hand, leading me into the busy restaurant.

  “It’s been a long time coming.” Ten years in the making and we were finally there, about to have a real first date.

  “Good evening,” the host greeted us.

  Will gave the guy his name and we were escorted to our table, a dimly lit booth in the back. Perfect.

  I was a ball of nerves. I couldn’t believe that after all this time, we were finally sitting across from each other in a horseshoe-shaped booth sipping on whiskey gingers. It wasn’t that we hadn’t ever been out together before—we had—and it wasn’t that we couldn’t have amazing conversation—we did. It was all the pent-up frustration and chemistry that we had been forced to stifle for too long; it was all coming to a head, and I was about to burst from attraction and eagerness.

  “You look incredible, Jordan.” Crosby’s fingers rolled over my forearm, sending goose bumps over my entire body.

  “Myla and the girls helped me get ready—I don’t girl very often.”

  Crosby sneered at me. “Myla can be a fucking gobermouche.”

  “Wait, excuse me—did you just use that word? Like no one knows what that word even means.”