Game Saver (20 page)

He’s aged well, and definitely looks a hell of a lot better than the last time I saw him. He’d been leaner, twenty pounds below healthy for his six-foot height. His floppy black hair had been a month past needing a cut and at least a week past needing a wash, and his eyes, still the same color of green grass that you just want to get lost in.

“Hey Abs,” he says, his eyes scanning my rather exposed body from head to toe before meeting mine.

“Why are you here?”

“It’s been a long time,” he says, ignoring my question.

“You’re right. It has. Not long enough though. Why. Are. You. Here?” I repeat, my hands fisted on my hips.

I remember what Cade said to me at our first dinner/date a few months ago.

“If you ever see that asshole and I’m with you, don’t tell me because it won’t look good for the future mayor if one of his sons is facing an assault charge.”

“Baby . . .”

That sets me right off. “Oh no. You do
not
get to see me for the first time in six years and turn on your bullshit charm.”

His head jerks back, and I swear I can see respect in his eyes, something I can’t remember
ever
seeing when we were together.

“Abs, it’s not like that.”

I huff out a frustrated breath. “Then how about you tell me why you’re here.”

“I’m clean.”

“Looks like it. Doesn’t mean jack to me. So please, Bryce, just tell me what you want then go off on your merry way again to wherever you’ve been for the past six years. If you want money from me, you’re shit outta luck.”

“I had a P.I. turn up on my doorstep asking questions.”

I stop breathing and my blood runs cold. “What did they want?”

He leans back into the plush leather seat. “They wanted to know about you, me . . .
us.
When I didn’t have anything for them, they started offering incentives . . .”

I bet they did.

“Did they say who they were working for?” I ask, knowing the answer already but wanting confirmation.

“Nope. They just said that they were running a deep background check on behalf of their client and there was no expense spared. “

“Motherfucker,” I curse, pacing the width of the room. Then it occurs to me that Bryce shouldn’t have any idea where I work. We’ve got no mutual friends, no connections whatsoever. I tried to track him down five years ago to recover some of the money he owed me, and failed, so unless he’s a world-class detective himself, someone tipped him off.

“How did you find me?”

“They told me you worked here. I wanted to warn you because their visit didn’t sit right with me. We’ve been out of each other’s lives for more than six years. There is no way they should be connecting us.”

I pin him in place with a skeptical glare. “So out of the goodness of your heart, you thought you’d come to my place of work and warn me? You didn’t think to maybe find me anytime during the past six years and
apologize,
or I don’t know, maybe try and make up for what you did?”

He stands and takes a step towards me. I throw one hand up in warning, and he wisely thinks better of it. “Abs . . .”

“Thank you for the warning, but I already know who the P.I. works for, and I definitely know what these people are looking for. So thanks for the heads up, but now you can go.”

“I’m clean now.”

“Good for you. Congratulations,” I reply derisively. “But that doesn’t mean we’re going to be best friends, or even acquaintances. I worked my ass off to pull myself out of the hole you left me in. I’m stronger, smarter, and a hell of a lot happier.”

He winces, and his expression turns from concern to resignation, his eyes dropping to the ground. Maybe finally, he’s realized just how fucked up he was back then. Nevertheless, it’s got nothing to do with me now.

I have Cade. Cade is the epitome of ‘upgrade’ compared to Bryce, especially when it comes to the way Cade treats me.

“See the hostess at the front desk on your way out, get your money back, and just go. I’m sorry you got drawn into this but it doesn’t change anything.”

His eyes lift to mine, full of regret.

“Look after yourself, Bryce.” I give him one last look before turning my back and walking out, shutting the door, not just on the room but on that part of my past.

Walking back into the club, I take the stairs two at a time and make my way towards Roger’s office, knocking before entering.

He looks up from his computer and smiles brightly. “Hey, Abi. Having a good night?” he asks, his mood deteriorating when he sees the look on my face. I’ve known Roger for six years, since the day I walked through the doors asking for a job. He’s one of the reasons—along with Brandi—why I still work a night here for the odd shift.

“What happened?” He gets up from his chair, walks around his desk and leans his ass against it. I make a beeline for his drinks cabinet, pulling out a glass and pouring myself a scotch. This isn’t a common occurrence so the fact that I do it makes him do a double take.

He raises a brow and nods to my hand. “Are you going to pour me one too?”

“Yeah, probably when I pour my second,” I reply, downing the glass and pouring myself another one—oh and Roger’s, too.

“Shit.”

I turn and close the distance between us, handing over the drink and sitting down in a chair opposite him.

“So?”

“Bryce just paid for a private dance.”

“He
what?
”

I take a sip and lift my eyes up to meet his wide ones. “He didn’t get it. Don’t actually think he wanted it.”

“You’re not making sense, Abi.”

“He came to offer a warning. Apparently he had someone track him down and ask about me.”

Roger’s head jerks back. “What?”

“Yeah. Out of the goodness of his tiny little heart, he thought he’d warn me.”

He snorts. “That’s nice of him. Did he also pay you back what he owes?”

Now it’s my turn to quirk a brow. “You know that’ll never happen.”

“Sometimes miracles do occur.”

“Yeah, not where Bryce Wilder is concerned.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I have to quit.”

Roger slowly closes his eyes and drops his head, his shoulders sagging as a low sigh escapes his lips.

“I’m sorry, but you knew it would happen eventually. I just . . .” I take a deep breath as my throat constricts. I didn’t think this would be so hard. Roger opens his eyes and looks at me, urging me to continue. “I need to do this for me. I’ve met someone and—”

“Is
he
the reason you’re quitting?”

“No. And yes. But mostly no.”

A smile plays at his lips. “So that’s a yes then?”

I shake my head and grin up at him. “Okay. Yes. But I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I love you and Brandi, but all good things must come to an end.”

“That they must.” He downs the rest of his scotch and puts his glass back on the table before standing up and moving towards my chair.

I lean over to put my tumbler on the floor and move to my feet, stepping into his open arms and hugging him. “Thank you, Roger. For everything.”

He gives me a squeeze and holds me back with his hands on my shoulders. “You’re not gonna do a disappearing act, lovely. I expect to see your ass on a bar stool now and then.”

Now the tears come, an unladylike sob escaping my lips. “Okay.”

He dips his head down so we’re eye to eye. “Do you need help with the investigator?

“My manfriend is the son of Cade Carsen,” I say by way of explanation.

“Enough said.” Of course he’d say that.
Everyone
knows who he is, especially with less than three months to go in the campaign.

“You hooked yourself a rich one,” he muses. “Brandi would be so proud.”

I giggle, gently slapping his back. “I need to do this. For me
and
for him.”

“Tell me he treats you right, Abi. That’s all I need to know to be okay with this.”

My heart melts at his concern, and I wrap my arms around him again and bury my face in his chest. “He’s perfect. I’m just doing what I can to be perfect for him back.”

After leaving Roger’s office after he insisted I take the rest of the night off, I say goodbye to Brandi before emptying my locker for the final time. Then my favorite bouncer, Adam, walks me to my car.

Sitting there for what seems like forever, I contemplate where I should go. I’m supposed to stay at Cade’s but after the events of tonight, I need some breathing room.

I pull out my phone and bring up Cade’s last text.

Abi:
      
I’m going to head home tonight. Rain-check until tomorrow?

It takes a few minutes for him to get back to me.

Cade:
      
Okay, sweetheart. I’m with the boys tomorrow afternoon but tomorrow night, you’re mine.

Abi:
      
Yes, sir.

Cade:
      
Don’t tempt me, Spitfire.

Just our text banter has me smiling.

In all honestly, it sounds bad, but I’m relieved he didn’t call because there’s no way I’d be able to lie to him—or actually want to—which means I’d have to tell him about Bryce’s visit, and I have a lot more processing to do before I do that.

Speaking of processing, it’s time to head home and
process
my bottle of tequila, because it soon hits me that I’ve just broken one of my most cardinal rules. That being to
never
change myself for anyone—
especially
a man.

Well, damn.

Saturday afternoon and Noah, Daniel, Thomas, and I are halfway through the back nine holes at the country club our parents all belong to.

“I didn’t see Abi this morning. Did she have to work?” Thomas asks as we watch Daniel place his ball on the tee.

“She stayed at her place last night. She texted me to say she was going to sleep at home,” I reply, and his head jerks back

“Since when does she sleep anywhere without you?

“It’s not like we’re joined at the hip.”

He quirks a brow and shakes his head. “Maybe not the hip . . .”

Noah and I chuckle, because he’s not wrong.

“Maybe she just wanted some time to herself. Zoe likes having a ‘day off from the world’ now and then. She goes off and does her thing without having to worry about being a wife or a mom for a while, and comes back happy, relaxed, and
grateful,
” Noah explains.

“Mac’s the same. But then again, with our three hellions, she
deserves
a break,” Daniel says, backing him up.

“Did you hear from her this morning?” Thomas asks, like a dog with a bone.

“I’m seeing her after she finishes at the club tonight. What gives, Thomas?” I ask, wondering if I’m missing something.

He claps me on the back. “Nothing, man. It’s just unlike her. Maybe she had a bad night?”

Having now put the thought in my head that I might’ve missed something last night, I’m grateful when Daniel steps up to the tee.

He rears back and takes a well-practiced swing, hitting the ball a good two hundred yards to land in the middle of the fairway.

“Nice shot,” I remark.

“You doubted me?”

“Not with the amount of golf you play. I’m surprised you’re not a pro.”

Daniel sighs dramatically. “It was hard saying no to the PGA, but a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”

We all snigger as Thomas walks up to take his tee shot.

“And how’s Abi?” Noah says, not trying to hide his shit-eating grin.

“So golf and gossiping now? Just how I saw myself spending a Saturday.”

“You should be used to it by now. Noah and I have inquisitive wives who drill us for info the minute we walk through the front door,” Daniel says with a laugh.