Stand and Defend: Chapter 3
Fuck, I love Vegas. Pretty women everywhere. Unfortunately, they’ve combined the bachelor party with the bachelorette. It was made apparent early on there would be no strippers this weekend. Isn’t that the point of having your bachelor party in Vegas?
Bryan insisted on planning it this way, so I let him. Normally, I’d call bullshit—assuming Jordana wouldn’t let him have a stag bash, but he seems pretty obsessed with her. He’s been texting me about how great she is since the weekend up north a couple weeks ago. Personally, I understand none of it. Love makes people fucking stupid. It’s why we’re at an XS nightclub tonight and not a strip club. I’m not complaining, the women here are as gorgeous as the ones on the poles.
At least we’ve got separate hotel suites from the girls. Maybe I can take someone back tonight. If I’m in Sin City, I’m getting laid. I’ve been putting in so many hours at the arena, and three weeks is way too long to be celibate. Especially if I gotta look at Jordana, Veronica, and the rest of their group in these tight-as-fuck dresses for half the weekend. Sexy curves are everywhere. It’s hell being around this many attractive women and not fucking any of them.
“Shots!” Veronica yells, gathering the glasses from the bottle service cart next to our table. She pours the liquor, then grabs the decanter of fresh-squeezed pomegranate juice to top them off. I shoot the alcohol, and window-shop the women standing outside the VIP area in our vicinity. Time to make some friends.
I make eye contact with one of them, and she has a nice smile and an even better backside. Perfect.
I nudge Bryan and tip my head in her direction. “You mind?”
“Nope. Have fun.”
I leave our couch and step outside the roped-off area to introduce myself. Her name is Kandii, “with one K and two i’s.” She asks what I do for a living, but I brush it off.
“So, what’s it like being in the NHL?”
“It’s the dream. I get to play the greatest sport in the world and meet gorgeous women like you. Pretty nice.”
She grins. “I’m definitely a perk.” And perky.
Jordana bumps into me as she and the other girls head out to the dance floor. She’s wearing the same perfume as she was last time. Like a total asshat, I can’t help but follow the bride-to-be with my eyes as she dances. Christ, what is it about her? It’s gotta be some forbidden fruit thing that’s happening. Wait, what were we talking about again? My job. I refocus on the person in front of me.
“It’s more work than people realize. I don’t often get to travel for fun. I pretty much live at the arena or training center, there’s injuries and bruises, and traveling nonstop can be brutal—”
“Oh my God, totally! I know exactly what you mean. I went to Ibitha last month and we were so jetlagged. It was crazy! I didn’t go to any of the clubs for like the whole first day.”
My eyes glaze over while she goes on and on about the parties in Ibiza. I know Ibitha is the proper Spanish pronunciation, but she’s name-dropped the island so many times, it’s sounding vain.
I gotta learn to say “Hockey is great” and move on. Besides, there’s nothing for me to complain about, playing for the Lakes is fucking awesome. Sure, in situations like this, it draws fake friendships and superficial connections, but when the women are this gorgeous, do you need anything else?
“Yup. It’s just like that,” I say with a smile. She can’t tell I’m being facetious, and that’s okay.
“Except for the bruises . . . or are you giving me those tonight too?”
Off to the races.
“Depends on if you’re a good girl or not.”
Our table is now empty. Bryan and the other guys must be out dancing with the group. Might be a good time to bring Kandii to our suite. It’s on the same property as the club, so I could probably be back in less than an hour.
We chat a little longer, and the more I try to stretch this conversation, the more she hints at sex. I usually get to know the woman I’m with for a little while before I take her back to my place. It’s been about fifteen minutes, but in Vegas, that’s the equivalent of an hour anywhere else, right?
“What hotel are you staying at?” she asks.
“Encore . . . want to see it?”
Her smile grows twice as big. “I’d love to.”
Our table is still empty, and I could text him to let him know where I’ll be, but he probably won’t even notice I’m gone. Even if he does, he knows I’m a hoe.
She hooks her elbow in mine, and we head toward the exit. A small hand grabs my bicep, and I spin around to see Jordana. My date drops my arm, probably because she thinks this is my girlfriend.
“Are you going back to Encore?” she asks.
“Uh, yeah.” I link my arm with Kandii to put her at ease.
“Can you see if Bryan is there?”
I furrow my brow. “I thought he was with you?”
“He was, but I turned around and he was gone. I can’t find him anywhere. He mentioned having a work call—it just seems like it’s been a while.”
I peer behind her, and there’s a swarm of people dancing. I’ve got pretty solid eyesight and still can’t see for shit in this nightclub. “Where’s Veronica and everybody else?”
“I lost them in the crowd. I’m gonna head back to the table. We said if we got separated we would meet there.”
“Do you want to come with us and check the hotel to see if he’s there?”
“No, I don’t want Veronica to think I’ve abandoned her. I’m going to wait here for them. Besides, if Bryan caught me leaving the club next to you, he’d have a fucking conniption.” She laughs it off, but it rubs me the wrong way. “I don’t want to deal with his temper tonight.”
“Is that a common occurrence?” On the plane, he went on and on about how solid he and Jordana are. Yet, walking out with me would make him lose his shit? The more I’m exposed to their relationship, the rockier it appears. I hate to put such strong accusations on my best friend, but something about this feels off. Could I be naive about the way he treats her? I mean, maybe? But this is Bryan we’re talking about.
“We’re fine.”
Not the right answer. She didn’t deny it, and simply brushed off his behavior like it’s nothing.
“Well, I’m not going to leave you here by yourself.”
“No, I’m good, really. You enjoy . . .” She looks at my date.
“Kandii.” Kandii introduces herself.
“Kandii—nice to meet you.” She smiles and shifts her gaze back to me. “I’m going to wait at the table. See you later.”
Scanning the crowd, I see none of the other groomsmen or bridesmaids. Fuck. “’Kay. Stay behind the ropes. If I find him, I’ll send him down. But if he’s not there, I’m coming back to make sure he shows up.”
“Thanks, Cam. I’m sure it’s not necessary.”
Cam. Jesus, why does her shortening my name like that make my dick twitch? I need to get laid worse than I thought. Now I really want that motherfucker to be up there. I need to get him back to Jordana so I can take care of this hellish dry spell. I track her as she walks away and don’t turn around until she’s behind the bouncer manning the VIP area. Kandii takes my hand, and we head toward the exit.
On the elevator up to our suite, she kisses my neck, and I’m already getting hard. See, this is all I needed. After this, it will all return to normal. When the elevator dings and we step out, I fish my phone from my pocket and open the hotel app to unlock the door.
As soon as the light flashes green, I push the door open and freeze.
“Shit.”
“Fuck!” Bryan shouts.
He’s got Veronica against the wall, her legs are wrapped around his waist, and he’s balls deep. If it weren’t happening in front of me, I wouldn’t believe it. It makes my fucking heart sink. I’ve played with guys who cheat on their spouses before, but none of their affairs have ever put a knot in my throat like this one does. I’ve known this guy his whole life. How could he do that to her?
“Goddamn it, Teller! What the fuck?! I’ve got the room, get out!”
I stumble back into the hall but only close the door enough to block my view of them. I caught him, and his response is to finish?
“That’s fucked up, man. Her best friend?”
God, she will be devastated.
He swings the door open, his pants pulled up but not buttoned.
“If you say one fucking thing to her, you’re out of the wedding and our friendship is over!”
Promise? What a piece of shit.
“Hey, it’s none of my business.” I avert my gaze. If I look him in the eyes, I’ll punch him. “But Jordana’s alone down there, so I’m going back to sit with her until you two get your shit together. Don’t leave at the same time.”
Kandii’s eyes are wide, and her jaw is on the floor.
“We gotta go.”
Thankfully, she nods, understanding that tonight isn’t happening.
I can’t believe he’s fucking her best friend. Her best friend. Veronica’s helping Jordana with all this wedding shit while fucking her fiancé at the bachelorette party she probably helped plan. Is this why he wanted to combine parties?
Jordana’s likely still sitting at the VIP table—because she didn’t want to abandon Veronica. Ugh.
The Bryan I knew would never do something so abhorrent to a woman he loves. The worst part is, I could tell it isn’t the first time. This isn’t some drunken accident. They seemed way too familiar with each other. How long has the affair been going on?
The whole way down the elevator, my head is spinning. You could hear a pin drop until she breaks the silence.
“You’re gonna tell her, right?”
It’ll cost me my friendship, but if he’s threatening to “unfriend” me over his fuck-up, then our friendship wasn’t strong to begin with. How could he toss aside a woman like Jordana—who looks like a total fucking smokeshow, by the way—and fuck her best friend? How the hell could he not appreciate how good he has it?
“Yeah . . . I think I have to.”
Kandii nods. “She seemed sweet, and that guy’s a dick. He doesn’t deserve her.” When the elevator doors open, she steps out and throws her thumb over her shoulder. “So, I’m gonna go back and find my friends.”
“Sorry about tonight.”
“No worries. Good luck with everything.” She cringes. Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be in my position either. Shit, this sucks.
“Thanks.”
When I return to the club and our table comes into view, Jordana is sitting with some of the other bridesmaids. They’re all his cousins. I didn’t notice it earlier, but how doesn’t she have any other friends in that group? It’s weird.
The bouncer nods to me and unlatches the rope for me to pass.
Jordana stands up. “He’s not there?”
I motion for her to step to the side with me, out of earshot from the other women. She swallows hard and absently rubs her forearm. I’m suddenly paranoid about the rest of the wedding party. Did they know? Does she?
“He was in the hotel suite.”
Her eyes are so big and dark, they’re haunting. I suck in a breath. I don’t want to hurt her. Fuck Bryan for making me do this. My mouth opens to speak but no words come out.
“Okay . . . So, is he coming down?”
I exhale and stare into those dark pools that seem to have me hypnotized. Tell her.
“He wasn’t alone, Jordana.”
She crosses her arms. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean.”
She shakes her head, and her eyes shine with tears. It’s killing me. “Where’s Veronica?”
I wince. Fuck, she has nobody.
She swipes at her eyes and scans the dance floor. “Camden. Where’s Veronica?”
“Does it matter?” The last thing I want to do is hurt her more. Why twist the knife? She doesn’t need two heartbreaks in one night.
“Where’s Veronica?” Her gaze snaps back to mine, and this time her eyes are cold and shut off.
It’s as if she already knows but needs someone else to say it. “She’s with him.”
With a bitter smile, she shakes her head.
“I’m so sorry, Jordana.”
“It’s Jordan. I hate being called Jordana.” She turns to grab her purse off the table, snags her phone, and taps away on a rideshare app. Saying goodbye to the rest of the wedding party, she tells them she’s not feeling well and is heading back to the hotel.
“Where are you really going?”
“Home.”
She strides past me, and I catch up to her. “Are you good?” Wow, that’s a stupid fucking question! I hang my head.
“I’m fine, I just want to get out of here.”
“Don’t you need to get your things?” I nod toward our hotel.
“Veronica can have my things. She’s taken everything else, right?”
I will not let her wait alone on the Vegas strip.
“When’s the next flight?”
“When I arrive. I think Bryan can pay for a charter, don’t you?”
I smirk. Atta girl.
Ubers are about as common as herpes in Vegas, so her car is waiting by the time we make it out the front doors.
I open the rear passenger door, and she slips in the backseat. She pauses before closing it.
“Thanks for not covering his ass. You’re not as big of a dick as everyone says you are.”
“Oh, yes I am.”
She doesn’t respond, simply yanks the door shut, then a second later, the car pulls away from the curb. I’m left standing there, wishing I were beside her so I could go home too. The last thing I want to do is face the drama that’s about to explode inside.
I’m too tired to deal with airports and shit, but I’m definitely getting a new hotel for the night. I’ll fly out in the morning. On my way back, I run into Bryan—sans Veronica.
“Did you say anything?”
I can’t believe that’s his first question. “Dude, you know my dad used to have affairs, you saw how that shit played out. And her best friend? That’s so fucked up.”
“It was a mistake! It won’t happen again. I’m drunk, she was getting handsy, it just happened.”
Bullshit. I made that same trek with Kandii—he had plenty of time to reconsider, but he went for it anyway.
“Whatever, I’m going to bed.”
“Where is she?”
“No idea. I assume she’s still at the club with the girls.” I’ll cover for her instead.
He claps me on the back. “It’s just bachelor party shit. It won’t happen again.”
Unbelievable. I head toward the hotel.
An hour later, as I’m watching ESPN highlights in my new hotel room—five blocks away, my phone buzzes.
Bryan: You’re a fucking dead man!
Huh. He seems irritated.
Bryan: Wanna tell me why her last location is the fucking airport? This is all your fault!
He tracks her location? Of—fucking—course he does, because she’s the one who can’t be trusted. I roll my eyes.
Me: Let’s get one thing straight, this is YOUR fuck-up. Not mine. And what makes you think I told her? Maybe you should check with Veronica before you start throwing out accusations.
Bryan: Veronica isn’t going to tell her.
Me: Sure about that? Because when I got back to the club, the girls said Jordana wasn’t feeling well and left. I haven’t even seen her since I left XS to go to the hotel.
Me: If she found out, it’s because you weren’t careful about covering your tracks. Don’t come blaming me.
Bryan: Was it that girl you were with?
Me: Dude, I have no idea. Look, I’m going to sleep. I’ve got an early flight home tomorrow. This is too much drama, even for me.
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