Jaylynn waves the women toward her. “Come on, let’s pour a few glasses. Give the guys a minute to talk shop and get it out of their system before dinner.”
“Do you want to talk shop with them?” Gina teases, raising an eyebrow.
“Nope,” Jaylynn says. “Someday, I just want to sit with my girls, drink wine, and not hear one word about blades, bruises, or power plays. Work is work, and I love it, but this…” She gestures between the three of them in a soft, sweeping motion. “This is what makes it all worthwhile.”
The air softens for a moment, the kind of stillness that feels like friendship settling deep into the walls.
I glance at Rowyn and catch the faintest wobble in her smile. It’s there and gone in a blink, but I see it. The reminder that what we’re doing, this cozy couple act, isn’t real. Not really. And yet she fits so perfectly into the moment, it hurts a little.
Before I can overthink it, I lean in and brush my lips against hers, light and quick but real enough to make her breath hitch.
“Have a few glasses,” I murmur near her ear. “I’m driving.”
Her lips curve up, and damn if my chest doesn’t go warm all over.
Jaylynn, however, looks like she’s about to combust. She bites down on her bottom lip, eyes wide and so obviously trying not to squeal. I can practically see her brain taking notes for the group chat later.
And just like that, my heart sinks. Christ. Rookie move, Jaxon. The last thing I need is Jaylynn whispering that maybe I’ve caught feelings. Because if she plants even the idea in Rowyn’s head, it could wreck everything.
What are your motives, Jaxon?
I tighten my jaw. To help Rowyn get her guy.
Period.
Even if some part of me, the part that just kissed her like I meant it, isn’t so sure that maybe I want to be that guy.
“Someone’s looking to get lucky tonight,” Gina murmurs under her breath as she passes by, and I nearly choke on air.
The guys laugh, and Penn claps me on the back, steering me toward the living room like he’s guiding a nervous rookie into the locker room. Next thing I know, a cold beer materializes in my hand, and we’re knee-deep in hockey talk—stats, playoff chatter, trade rumors, and enough curse words to melt the varnish off the coffee table.
Once the conversation settles, Ash glances my way, expression softening. “Hey, sorry about my dad earlier. He’s… old school. Doesn’t trust the media.”
“Yeah, I get it,” I say, shrugging. “None of us really do. Comes with the territory. No hard feelings.”
“That fucking Billy,” Penn growls, shaking his head. “Guy gives the whole industry a bad name. But we know Rowyn’s not like that. So none of us have to worry.”
I nod, grateful, but also a little defensive, like I need to protect her reputation with my life.
Ash grins. “That’s right. I forgot you grew up with her too, Penn.” He takes a swig of beer and gestures toward the kitchen with his bottle. “If you guys trust her, then we do too. And by the sound of it, she’s already passed the WAG initiation.”
I glance toward the kitchen, where laughter spills out, bright, full of warmth. Rowyn’s laugh rises above the rest, soft and melodic, and something about it tugs at me.
The WAGs really are a solid crew. They’ve seen everything—fangirls, flings, and the occasional fame chaser—but they’ve always been generous and kind. Still, it makes me wonder. If some woman came along with an agenda, would they catch on? Or would they welcome her in, unguarded and trusting, the way they’ve welcomed Rowyn?
Not that Rowyn would ever use anyone. She’s the last person who’d trade sincerity for headlines.
“Done gossiping?” Gina calls from the doorway, one brow arched.
Busted.
We all laugh as we follow her into the kitchen. The table looks like something out of a magazine—roast beef glistening, potatoes piled high, veggies. We all help carry the rest of the dishes to the dining room, the easy rhythm of family and friends sliding into place.
Once we’re seated, Gina looks around the quiet table and laughs. “It’s so peaceful. Weird, right?” She turns to Rowyn, eyes bright. “Usually we’ve got our two kids, Grant, and Maria’s boys running around. It’s chaos.”
Ash chuckles. “Glorious chaos.”
Gina rests a hand on his arm. “We love it.”