Charming as Puck(41)

“If you’re not interested in a drink, do you want some financial advice?”

My fingers have somehow become entangled with Jami’s—or is it Anni’s?—and they’re both leaning so close we could be sharing clothes.

“I just finished my CPA degree this spring,” Jami—definitely Jami, the redhead—tells me. “I come with the body and the brains.”

“And I’m a nurse.” Anni grabs my ass. “I know all about taking care of booboos. And that puck you took to the shoulder looked like it hurt.”

My skin suddenly prickles like it’s raining feathers, and I glance in the mirror again.

Kami’s smile is gone.

Three of the dudes with her are pointing our way. Superfans. Which should be awesome, except tonight, it’s not.

“Not even a little bit of a grin?” Anni asks.

“Oh, honey.” Jami sighs. “It’s one game. We’re gonna help get you all fixed up.”

My gaze flits back to the two women. Jami’s flagging down the bartender. When he doesn’t immediately reply, she stretches, pushing her ample bosom out until it could serve as a shelf for about six whisky bottles.

“Yes, ma’am?” the bartender calls.

“We need a Jameson for Nickie-poo.” She blows him a kiss, and he grabs a bottle from under the shelf, shaking his head with a grin.

“You wanna talk about it, sweetie?” Anni asks.

“I—no.”

The familiar ripple goes through the bar—the one that says everyone knows we’re here—and I take quick stock of my teammates. Klein and Jaeger are entertaining six women with beers and war stories, their backs to the bar. Sokolov and The Bear have their own fan club on my other side, both of them head and shoulders taller than everyone around them.

Lavoie’s leaning by the dartboard, talking to three women, with a clear view of the room.

“We heard rumors you were seeing someone.” Jami strokes a hand down my chest. “Guess you’re single now, hm?”

“Nice to see you out again,” Anni adds. “I learned a new trick with my tongue since the last time we talked. Wanna see?”

“Sex helps the body heal,” Jami agrees.

“Lots of sex helps it heal faster,” Anni adds.

“Unless you pull a nut or something.”

“That’s really not possible.”

“Nickie-poo, did you pull a nut? We can help rub your nuts.”

Maren’s talking to the dudes, and Kami’s gathering her things. Muffy gives me one of those older sister-slash-overbearing-cousin looks that would scare the shit out of me if I wasn’t a hundred times better at being an overprotective big brother than basically anyone on the planet.

“He definitely pulled a nut.”

“You want me to take a look and see if I can lick it all better, baby?”

“I’m a good nut-licker too. Just because I’m not a nurse doesn’t mean I don’t have experience.”

The dickopotamuses and doucheasauruses aren’t letting Kami and Maren out. Muffy either on the other side of the round couch table, and with those guns, she looks like she could take them, but she’s not using them to her advantage.

I can’t hear whatever the twatnuggets are saying back to the women, but I don’t have to.

I know the look.

Seen it enough on Felicity’s ex-boyfriends’ faces.

No, baby, you don’t want to leave yet.

Stay, sweet cheeks. I’m gonna buy you another drink.

You know you want to come back to my place with me.

I’m crossing the floor before my brain remembers I’m supposed to be reformed from charm school.

And before my teammates realize I’ve moved.

Because if they saw me, there’s no fucking way they’d be letting me out of arm’s reach.

“Whoa, whoa, you’re Nick Murphy,” the head dickopotamus says.

“Oh, fuck,” Maren says.

Too late.

I’m pulling the first dude out of the booth. “Did the lady ask you to move?” I growl in his face. He smells like cheese fries and pi?a colada, and his nose hairs are three months past needing a trim.

“Murphy!” Lavoie barks from across the bar.

I point to the second guy. “Move. Now. Before you learn what happens when you talk to my girlfriend.”

“And here we go,” Maren sighs.

The other guy’s not moving, so I grab him too. “What do we do when ladies ask us to move?”

“We were moving!” the first guy says.

I’m in real danger of actually getting my nuts dislocated, and my body’s sore and tired after a long game, and my biceps are straining, but I don’t put either down.

“Are we ever going to have to have this discussion again?” I growl.

“We didn’t know she was your girlfriend, swear we didn’t.”

“I didn’t touch her, man. I’d never touch your girlfriend.”

“Put them down, Murphy,” Lavoie orders.

“Nick, please,” Kami says quietly.

It doesn’t matter that everyone around us is shouting and barking and pushing. She talks, and I can hear her.

Doesn’t mean I want to listen.