Page 96 of Fall For Me
Knowing she’s a damn liar, I laugh and roll her out to the Uber.
The sports bar is loud as hell, and there’s hardly an empty seat in the house when we finally come strolling in, which is no surprise at all since the Blaze is playing in Pittsburgh tonight.
I scan the area, looking for a place to sit and spot an empty low-top right next to the bar. It’s the perfect place to park Granny’s wheelchair and watch the game . . . which has already started.
Dammit.
I wheel her over to the table, never taking my eyes from the big screen above the bar.
“What the hell? Close your gap! Get under his hands and lift his stick! Don’t just reach. You could’ve snatched that puck up from underneath him!” I bark, irritated that Drew let the puck get past him.
A waiter comes over to take our drink order, but I can’t be bothered enough to look away from the TV to pay attention to anything going on around us.
“I’ll take an Ultra, dressed with salt and lime, please, and whatever Granny’s having . . . just put it all on my tab.”
“Hannah?” a woman’s sweet voice draws out, and I glance behind our server.
My heart lodges in my throat. Of all the fucking places in the world . . . she ends up here in the same place as me? Is the universe testing me?
“What are you doing here?” I ask flatly.
“Owen plays the Islanders tomorrow. We flew in early to see our families before his first game. You know how crazy the season can be.”
She tilts her glass in his direction, and the diamond sparkling onher left ring finger catches my attention. I glance over at Owen standing at a table with a crowd gathered around him. Still looks like the same fucking tool he was back when Savannah dated him. Maybe I’m just bitter because he hurt Sean. Either way, he’s a douchebag. My eyes fall back to her as she continues.
“Anyways, what a small world. How are you?”
I don’t know what to say. I’m so torn. A very conditioned part of me tells me I should be kind and respond politely, but then there’s this part of me just itching to claw her fucking face off. Everything she did to Sean begins to play out in my mind—his excited expression when he thought he was going to be a dad. The look on his face when she told him she cheated on him and the baby might not be his. Just imagining the joy draining from his expression and the ache he must’ve felt in his chest, rips me to shreds. I swallow the bile in my throat. It’s gross. She’s gross. My teeth grind together, and heat creeps to my cheeks. The more I think about how hurt and emasculated he felt, the more pissed off I get.
“You two know each other?” Granny asks, interrupting my thoughts, her eyes darting between me and Allie.
“Oh, yeah. We go way back,” Allie replies as if we’re old, long-lost friends and I’m not sitting here staring daggers at her.
Why the hell am I biting my tongue? Why? Sean stands up for me all the time. Why the hell am I not standing up for him?
“Remember that one time?—”
“That’ll be all for now.” I finally find my voice, cutting off Allie as I give the waiter my full attention. “Thank you so much.”
Shifting my eyes back to Granny, I ignore Allie all together. “Oh yeah . . . We go waaaay back.”
“It’s so good to see you again.” Allie moves in to hug me, but I jerk away, not giving one single flying fuck about the stricken look on her face.
“Don’t fucking touch me. God, learn how to read a room,” I snap, then turn back to Granny. “We were acquaintances before she married Sean and cheated on him with his best friend. Isn’t that right, Allie?”
“W-what?” Allie’s brows knit together.
“You cheated on that sweet boy?” Granny asks, pursing her lips.
“Oh, that’s not even the half of it. She got pregnant in the process.” I raise a brow.
“What in the devil’s wrong with ya?”
“A lot is wrong with her, Granny. That man worships me like a queen and fucks me like a god.”
Did I just say that? Yes. Yes, I did. I wonder if this is how Granny feels anytime she opens her mouth? She’s always been one to say whatever the hell’s on her mind with no regrets. I’m finding this extremely liberating.
Allie tilts her head to the side, confusion written all over her face. “You’re not really his type.”
