“Absolutely.” Faith squeezed her hand. “I’m going to miss you so much. But I’m so excited for you. This is a great time in your life. Young and free and working on a Hollywood set. You’re going to meet so many famous people.”
“You mean like these guys?” she said sarcastically, gesturing to the players still signing autographs and taking pictures with other customers, and felt another twinge of frustration over Rafe.
Faith laughed. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”
“I think that’s one of the things the producers liked about me. That I’d grown up with this, knew all these guys, and it didn’t faze me. I guess they wouldn’t get much done with someone fangirling over everyone all the time.” She drew a deep breath, trying to quell the roll in her stomach. “Gah. Every time I think about it, I still get nauseous.”
“That’s excitement.”
Partially. But there was a lot of other shit going on inside her. Once she got this thing with Rafe behind her, she’d feel better. Mia tipped her head, smiled, and drank more wine.
“It’s not excitement?” Faith narrowed her eyes. “Is it Sam? Are you having second thoughts?”
“You mean about the guy who called me emotionally unavailable, detached, and afraid to commit, then broke up with me and left me without a place to sleep? That Sam?”
“Right. Screw him. You just haven’t found the right guy,” Faith said. “When you do, you’ll jump in with both feet. Maybe he’s in California.”
Maybe. Either way, she was going to make sure that when she got there, she was completely unfettered and ready to take on anything. “It’s an amazing opportunity. I think the nerves stem from the fact that I don’t have much of a choice but to take it at this point. Anything else would leave me stagnant or send me backward in my career. Lack of options is scary.”
“Transitions are always hard. Once you’re there, you’re going to love it.” Faith picked up her beer and glanced toward Grant, where he talked with teammates. “Uh-oh.” She refocused on Mia. “The new guy’s locked on to you.”
Mia glanced around at the team standing or sitting in small groups or milling among friends. The new guy was Cole Kilbourne, a trade from Calgary to give the Rough Riders more offensive power in the playoffs. According to Tate, he was an arrogant asshole who thought he was a one-man team and hurt more than helped them.
“I can see the problem from here,” Mia told Faith. “He’s too handsome for his own good.” All the guys were well built and fit, but they didn’t all have the best faces. Cole’s blond hair and chiseled features belonged in a Calvin Klein ad. “That alone probably made the guys hate him on sight. Does Grant dislike him as much as Tate?”
“Grant doesn’t love him, but you know Tate, he leans a little toward the extreme on most things he believes in. Though, I have to admit, every time Cole opens his mouth, he digs his own hole a little deeper.”
Cole stepped away from the edge of a circle of guys who weren’t including him anyway and started toward Mia and Faith.
Mia sighed. “Incoming.” Then an idea popped into her head. “Does Rafe hate him as much as Tate?”
“Oh God, yes. Cole and Rafe ram heads on a regular basis.”
Her devious side perked up. “Well, if Rafe won’t come to me, I might just have to go to him. And maybe I’ll bring a friend.”
“Oh no.” Faith laughed the words. “Remind me not to make you mad.”
Cole came up to them, greeted Faith, then turned to Mia. With his hand held out to her, he said, “Hello, beautiful.” When she shook his hand, he enclosed it in both of his. “I’m Cole Kilbourne. It's normal to be intimidated by me, but try to get over that, because I have a feeling we’re going to be very, very close.”
A little laugh huffed from Mia’s lips. Then the fact that he was totally serious hit, and full, rolling laughter burst out.
“Oh, I can see why you’re such a favorite.” She pulled her hand from his and patted the stool on the other side of her. “Come sit, Cole
. Let’s get to know each other.”
When Cole moved to her other side, Mia winked at Faith, who grinned, rolled her eyes, picked up her drink, and wandered to her boyfriend’s side.
Before Mia had fully turned back to Cole, something flew over her head, bounced off Cole’s forehead, and landed on the bar. A balled-up napkin. Frowning, Mia glanced over her shoulder and found Tate stabbing the air in their direction.
“Sisters are off-limits, Kilbourne. Touch her and you’ll wish you’d never heard of the Rough Riders.”
That. That right there had governed so much of her childhood, she couldn’t even see how or when it had insinuated its way into the fabric of her life. She and Rafe might never have taken their friendship to the next level even if they’d been left to follow their hearts, but Tate’s fierce protective streak made just the thought an absolute impossibility.
That, plus the fact that Rafe barely even acknowledged her existence anymore, along with all the stress built up from this new job, was pushing her over the line tonight.
She opened her mouth to tell Tate to grow up and stay out of her business, but Cole touched her jaw and brought her gaze around to his. “Ignore him. I’m way more interesting.”
Mia let her frustration toward Tate ebb. Tate wouldn’t change. Rafe wouldn’t change. The complex relationships between their bizarre, makeshift little family wouldn’t change.