“But why not?”
Zanders hesitates in his seat, his eyes quickly darting to mine before averting back to the guys. “Because I’m not partying tonight. So, I’m good.”
“Yeah, you never drink during playoffs, but that hasn’t stopped you before. Come on, EZ! Give the tabloids something to write about!”
Unfortunately, Maddison is already back in his room, so he can’t help Zanders out of this one.
“Zanders, let’s go! Teach us your ways!”
Zanders’ jaw tics in annoyance.
“EZ, boy! Do what you’re best at!”
“Let’s see it! We want a show!”
“For fuck’s sake! Let it fucking go!” Zanders’ palms land harshly on the wooden table as silence overtakes the rowdy group. “I have a fucking girlfriend, okay? And she’s right there.” He motions towards me, completely fed up and frustrated. “So please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up.”
My cheeks heat from the attention. Mouths gape in shock, eyes are wide, and brows shoot up from every guy around the table. Quiet voices stir, mainly from the hockey team, as stares bounce between Zanders and me.
He shoots me an apologetic smile, throwing his hands up in defeat.
Those whispers among the boys grow to shouts as both the rowdy hockey and basketball guys start clapping and cheering.
“EZ has a girlfriend!”
“And it’s our Stevie of all people!”
“Have you guys fucked on the plane yet?”
“Okay, that’s my sister,” Ryan interjects.
Zanders’ moment of frustration has dissipated from his face, replaced with a boyish smile that makes me melt.
I can’t imagine how freeing it must feel for him to tell people, and not only that but for his teammates to be happy for him. Maybe that’ll give him the boost of confidence he needs to know that whenever he decides to show the rest of the world who he truly is, they’ll still love him too.
“If any of you say shit, I’ll fuck you up,” Zanders warns, his typical commanding presence coming back real quick. “Stevie will get fired if word gets out. So, don’t let it.”
“No fucking way,” Ryan sharply curses under his breath from the seat next to me, his eyes glued to the door.
My gaze follows his to find a few of his old college teammates walking into the bar, most notably my ex.
Zanders must spot the blank look on my face because he trails my stare, and as soon as he turns around to the entrance, he takes off with lightning-quick strides.
“Oh no, no, no,” I mutter as I climb over the guys to my side, needing to get out of this booth before Zanders gets to Brett.
His muscular body is large and intimidating as I chase after his back.
“Evan fucking Zanders,” Brett taunts as soon as I grab the back of Zee’s white linen shirt, attempting to restrain him.
Zanders continues straight to the door, and I’m only slightly slowing him down by holding on to his shirt, but it doesn’t much matter because apparently, my boyfriend wasn’t the one who I needed to stop.
In a blink of an eye, Ryan charges past us, elbow cocking as he swings one heavy fist into my ex’s face.
The crack isn’t all that loud, but it silences the entire bar as Zanders and I pause dead in our tracks.
Brett grasps at his nose, the blood streaming past his fingers and onto the floor. “What the fuck, Shay!”
“That’s for my sister, you fucking piece of shit. And if you come around again when I tell you not to, the next hit you take will be for me.” Ryan turns towards his old college teammates. “Get him out of here.”
My brother’s anger is palpable, his chest rising as he turns back towards the table. “Fucking prick,” he mutters under his breath.
As Ryan passes by my boyfriend and me, Zanders holds his fist out, to which my brother proudly pounds.
Indy stops him in his path, halfway from the entrance to the table. “That was hot,” she drunkenly admits right before she keels over and releases every drink she had tonight all over Ryan’s shoes. “Oh God.” She slaps a palm over her mouth in embarrassment. “But that wasn’t.”
38
STEVIE
As soon as I get Indy back to her room with a glass of water and some Advil on her side table, I sneak back downstairs to meet Zanders on the beach. His overpriced shoes hang in his hand, and the bottom of his lightweight pants are cuffed to keep from dragging in the sand.
Thankfully, the shoreline is deserted this time of the night, allowing us some rare privacy outside of his penthouse. The only lights are those coming from the oceanfront hotels, but they’re not bright enough to illuminate the beach.