Page 66 of Xander

With arms folded over my stomach, I looked out the window and watched the picturesque city scroll by until we pulled to a stop. Parking was ample, and Xander escorted me inside the little bar and grill named Secord’s.

It was a dive bar in every sense of the word: low lights, no clocks, hardwood tables so scarred and stained with beer that it was impossible to tell what kind of wood they were actually made of. In the corner was an old jukebox, the kind I remembered from the campy bars of my youth. “The Hockey Song” by Stompin’ Tom Connors was playing, which seemed a little too on the nose.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked, leading me to a large picnic-style table that could easily seat eight. “They don’t do French 75s here but have some fruit sours.”

“Water’s fine,” I told him, conscious of my new financial status. From now on, every dime he spent on me was money I’d owe him, and I planned on paying him back.

I watched him stride up to the bar. I shed my jacket and gloves, taking in the dusty arcade machines that looked older than me. None of them were plugged in, and one of them had a cracked screen. I imagined some angry gamer lost his temper and punched the little screen, which amused me until it made me think of Henry and his raised fist.

“Hey, beautiful.” A man with dark brown hair and pale blue eyes approached the table, flashing me an easy grin. He was about Xander’s age and looked like a young Paul Rudd.

I stared blankly at him when he sat, shooting an uneasy look at Xander, who was still occupied at the bar. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

In response, he thrust out his hand. “Mark. From the team? I saw you in the stands. It would have been hard to miss you. You made the lights seem dim. Has anyone told you that you should model?”

“Jesus, man. Dial it down, like, ten notches,” a guy with bright blue hair said, adjusting his glasses. Catching my incredulous look, he said, “I’m Kai. Ignore this asshole. He tries this shit on every girl.”

“Better not try it on this one.” Xander’s gruff voice made me straighten. He was holding two bottles—an IPA and something with a picture of berries on the label. “This is Jordan.” As soon as he sat, I felt his hand settle on my thigh beneath the table, making me painfully aware of him.

“Jordan?” Kai’s hazel eyes bounced between us. “Isn’t that the name of your…” he trailed off awkwardly.

Stepmother, I silently filled in the blank. The heavy words had Xander exchanging an intimidating look with Kai.

Under the table, I fidgeted nervously. Kai might be a jock, but he wasn’t stupid. He obviously knew Xander’s stepmother was also named Jordan, and it wasn’t a coincidence that the mystery girl from practice had the same name.

Oh god. He must think Xander had an Oedipus complex, and I was the biggest whore. The only thing at my disposal was to deny the allegation.

Thankfully, a huddle of men walked through the door before I had to resort to lying, all chatting loudly. As soon as they spotted us, they ambled over, ribbing each other about their performance on the ice. Xander seemed to catch the brunt of it.

Introductions were rapid-fire with personal anecdotes. It was strangely overwhelming, especially since I worked in a people-forward career.

I suppose it was because Henry had never taken me out for a casual night with his friends. His disapproval of my best friend sealed the deal on the limited friendships I regaled. I was too vulnerable back then to put up a bigger fight, and Piya was never mean-spirited about our estrangement, not that it lessened the pain.

The folly set the tone for our marriage. Henry’s coldness was stark whenever I partook in social outings. He insisted on unnecessary security before eventually deterring me from going out altogether.

Though I had created and presided over countless parties for him, they were held at our home or his office and were only meant to advance his career. I was a prop to charm his business associates, but every time the evening ended, I felt empty and numb. I made him my whole life until I was trapped beneath the bowl of one of his tasteful crystal champagne glasses. I hadn’t been able to see my prison for what it was until all the air had nearly run out.

I hadn’t been to a bar in God knows how long. For the first time in years, I was truly interacting in a social setting rather than entertaining. I had forgotten what it was like to hang out with a group of friends and actively participate in a conversation. So much so that I had nothing to contribute.

“She hasn’t said much,” a man with flawless light brown skin said. From the introductions, I remembered him as Amos.

He spoke as if I weren’t there, so I didn’t respond. Instead, I munched on the fries and the burger sliders Xander had ordered. I took a sip of the fruity drink he got me, looking at it in surprise when I found that I liked it. I had never been a fan of that type of alcohol, but this was light and delicate, almost reminding me of sparkling wine.

“You good over there?” Amos arched his eyebrows at me with a small half-smile as if we were in on a private joke.

Xander gave Amos a warning look for staring at me for a beat too long. Jesus!

“Oh, yes, she is good.” A grin broke out over Adrian’s face, his deep brown eyes sizing me up. Another man with black hair and perfect skin, though he was more olive-toned. “She is very, very good.”

“Watch it,” Xander said mildly, though I wasn’t fooled by the soft tone. His eyes showed a glint of madness that I was starting to recognize a little too well. “Don’t look at her that way again. In fact, don’t look at her at all.”

My back was stiff, hoping no one else read into his possessiveness.

“You okay?” Kai asked him on cue.

“Yes,” Xander replied but didn’t elaborate.

Kai pursed his lips.