Read Online Iron Cross: The Dartmouth Cobras #6 by Bianca Sommerland - Free Book Online
Authors: Bianca Sommerland
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simple.”
“Yeah, and you seemed pretty pissed when you left the locker room,” Tyler added, thinking too late that Scott might not have wanted to share that bit of info. He gave Scott an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Scott made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I wouldn’t be here if me and Zach hadn’t worked it out. He hasn’t given me any reason not to trust him. I overreacted. It’s just weird, knowing Zach has an ex who’s still hung up on him. But that’s Zovko’s issue, not mine or my man’s.”
“Maybe you should make nice with Zovko. He won’t hit on Pearce if you’re his friend.” Luke smiled as he drained his glass. “ Me and Ford are cool.”
“Ford never tried to get Jami back.” Tyler finished his drink. Deisha served him and Luke another. It took facing Scott to regret pointing out the difference between Raif and Ford. Like he didn’t already know. “Shit. I didn’t mean—”
“But you’re right.” Scott stared at the bar. “I just wish he’d back the fuck off. Zach acts like they’re just friends, but it’s fucking obvious that’s not what Zovko wants. But he’s all pleasant and shit and if I say anything, I look like a jealous asshole.”
The club had a three -drink limit, but Deisha wasn’t skimpy with the vodka. So Tyler was feeling damn good by the time he polished off his last drink. They’d shifted the conversation away from Raif for a bit, but the man kept creeping back into Tyler’s head and he knew it was just because he wanted to help Scott deal with the man.
About an hour before closing, he got an idea. He grinned at his best friends and pushed off the barstool. “We should send Raif a message.”
“Yo, why do you call him ‘Raif’?” A lazy smile slid across Luke’s lips. “Or is it personal?”
“Shut up, it doesn’t matter.” Tyler shoved his hands in his pockets and focused on Scott. “He wants to take something of yours. How about we take something of his as, like, a warning?”
An evil slant to Scott’s lips told Tyler his plan was the perfect slap shot hitting the back of the net. Scott jerked his chin toward the exit and Tyler and Luke followed him to coat check, then outside. A bitter chill had Tyler hunching over as he crossed the parking lot, but the alcohol kicked in and chased away the cold, slowing his strides as something distracted Scott.
“Did you know Zovko gets to keep the cars he drives in all those commercials? He’s got a wicked collection—it was even featured on some car show.” Scott walked right up to Raif’s white 1971 Challenger, running his hand along the side as though admiring the smooth lines. “This is his only old one. Think he’d mind if we ‘borrowed’ it?”
Luke burst out laughing. “Do you care?”
“Nope.” Scott rubbed his jaw and cocked his head. “No alarm. This is his winter car, so I was thinking…”
Tyler knew exactly what Scott was thinking. A little prank, kinda illegal, but Raif hadn’t been properly “welcomed” to the team anyway. The look on Raif’s face would be worth the risk. Tyler’s brain was a little fuzzy from the vodka, but he would have loved the idea completely sober. Raif had been in the league long enough that he’d figure out what had happened to his car real quick.
No cops. No issues. Just a bit of fun.
“Have you ever stole a car before, Scott?” Tyler decided Scott was awesome and could do pretty much anything. He could get the door open and hot-wire the car and they’d go for a little ride. Wait an hour and text Raif to let him know where to find it. “Will be easy, right?”
“Really, Tyler?” Scott raked his fingers through his dark blond e hair. “I was an asshole, not a criminal.”
A whiff of tobacco and the three of them turned to the sound of a rough laugh. Ford shifted his cigarette to the edge of his lips as he spoke up. “Why? You need one?”
Scott’s lips thinned. “You’re not a criminal anymore, man.”
“No, guess
“Yeah, and you seemed pretty pissed when you left the locker room,” Tyler added, thinking too late that Scott might not have wanted to share that bit of info. He gave Scott an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Scott made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I wouldn’t be here if me and Zach hadn’t worked it out. He hasn’t given me any reason not to trust him. I overreacted. It’s just weird, knowing Zach has an ex who’s still hung up on him. But that’s Zovko’s issue, not mine or my man’s.”
“Maybe you should make nice with Zovko. He won’t hit on Pearce if you’re his friend.” Luke smiled as he drained his glass. “ Me and Ford are cool.”
“Ford never tried to get Jami back.” Tyler finished his drink. Deisha served him and Luke another. It took facing Scott to regret pointing out the difference between Raif and Ford. Like he didn’t already know. “Shit. I didn’t mean—”
“But you’re right.” Scott stared at the bar. “I just wish he’d back the fuck off. Zach acts like they’re just friends, but it’s fucking obvious that’s not what Zovko wants. But he’s all pleasant and shit and if I say anything, I look like a jealous asshole.”
The club had a three -drink limit, but Deisha wasn’t skimpy with the vodka. So Tyler was feeling damn good by the time he polished off his last drink. They’d shifted the conversation away from Raif for a bit, but the man kept creeping back into Tyler’s head and he knew it was just because he wanted to help Scott deal with the man.
About an hour before closing, he got an idea. He grinned at his best friends and pushed off the barstool. “We should send Raif a message.”
“Yo, why do you call him ‘Raif’?” A lazy smile slid across Luke’s lips. “Or is it personal?”
“Shut up, it doesn’t matter.” Tyler shoved his hands in his pockets and focused on Scott. “He wants to take something of yours. How about we take something of his as, like, a warning?”
An evil slant to Scott’s lips told Tyler his plan was the perfect slap shot hitting the back of the net. Scott jerked his chin toward the exit and Tyler and Luke followed him to coat check, then outside. A bitter chill had Tyler hunching over as he crossed the parking lot, but the alcohol kicked in and chased away the cold, slowing his strides as something distracted Scott.
“Did you know Zovko gets to keep the cars he drives in all those commercials? He’s got a wicked collection—it was even featured on some car show.” Scott walked right up to Raif’s white 1971 Challenger, running his hand along the side as though admiring the smooth lines. “This is his only old one. Think he’d mind if we ‘borrowed’ it?”
Luke burst out laughing. “Do you care?”
“Nope.” Scott rubbed his jaw and cocked his head. “No alarm. This is his winter car, so I was thinking…”
Tyler knew exactly what Scott was thinking. A little prank, kinda illegal, but Raif hadn’t been properly “welcomed” to the team anyway. The look on Raif’s face would be worth the risk. Tyler’s brain was a little fuzzy from the vodka, but he would have loved the idea completely sober. Raif had been in the league long enough that he’d figure out what had happened to his car real quick.
No cops. No issues. Just a bit of fun.
“Have you ever stole a car before, Scott?” Tyler decided Scott was awesome and could do pretty much anything. He could get the door open and hot-wire the car and they’d go for a little ride. Wait an hour and text Raif to let him know where to find it. “Will be easy, right?”
“Really, Tyler?” Scott raked his fingers through his dark blond e hair. “I was an asshole, not a criminal.”
A whiff of tobacco and the three of them turned to the sound of a rough laugh. Ford shifted his cigarette to the edge of his lips as he spoke up. “Why? You need one?”
Scott’s lips thinned. “You’re not a criminal anymore, man.”
“No, guess
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