“Oh! Logan! Ta-ta! Don’t eat Poppy’s pretty hair!” Sunny says, but I doubt he hears her over the noise.

I lean over Poppy as she tries to free Logan’s fingers. He’s got a solid grip, and he’s working hard to get his fist in his mouth. I take the end of her ponytail in one hand so he’s not yanking so hard on it, then wiggle my pinkie in until he’s gripping that instead of Poppy’s hair.

“Thanks,” she says.

It’s a million words all rolled into one. The weight of silence and time apart eases with that one softly uttered word.

I can feel myself smiling. “That’s my thing. Can’t have someone smoother taking my move.”

She turns and looks up at me, our faces only inches apart. It wouldn’t take much to erase the distance, but I don’t. We’re not alone, and I’m not yet invited into her space like that.

“He’s a little too aggressive about it to be smooth,” she tells me.

“So it’s still my thing?”

She nods solemnly. “Still your thing.”

“I’m glad you came to the game.”

She raises a brow. “I’m glad you were in the penalty box for less than three minutes.”

“I had a reason to behave.” I finger the end of her ponytail. It’s damp where Logan had it in his mouth, which should be sort of gross, but I don’t care.

“Hey! There’s my boy! Gimme my baby, Poppy from the garden!” Miller leans down and kisses Sunny, then holds out his arms with a big, silly grin on his face.

I step back and let them make the transfer.

“Should we go? To talk?” Poppy asks as soon as Miller moves away to show Logan to the guys. Waters is all over that freaking baby. I won’t be the least bit surprised when Violet’s in the same state as Sunny was not so long ago.

I crouch down so we’re eye to eye. “If you want. I mean, we can stay for a while, too. I like this.” I motion to the table and the chatter. “You here, with all the people who are important to me.”

Her smile is the balm I need.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” she says. “It’s been really nice to meet them. They all care so much about you. Violet and Lily were very persuasive.”

“I’m sure they were.”

“You’re right about Violet being crazy.”

“Right?”

“Let me find April. Then we can go talk without yelling at each other.”

I pull her chair out and help her put on her coat, mostly so I can touch her. She spots April, and I follow her finger as she points. Shit. Her friend is currently chatting with Rookie.

“You need to warn your girl off this guy,” I tell her.

“What? Why?”

“Unless she’s down for the hook up, Rookie’s a no-go.”

Poppy frowns. “She’s not like that.”

“I didn’t think so.”

I follow Poppy, who pulls April aside to tell her whatever she plans to tell her. At the same time I make a point of telling Rookie April’s not a bunny, and fucking her is off the table.

“Seriously, man, do not put your dick inside that girl. Not anywhere,” I warn.

He smirks. “Tongue and fingers still work, yeah?”

I grab his shoulder and squeeze a little. “Any part you put inside her, I’ll make you eat. How’s that sound?”

“Okay, okay, Romance. I hear you. What’s her deal?”

“You see the little redhead?”

He glances over my shoulder and checks Poppy out. “I sure do.”

I snap a finger beside his ear to get his attention back. “She’s mine.”

He blinks a couple of times. “Right. Sorry. Yeah.”

“And the girl you’re talking to is her friend, so either keep your dick in your pants tonight or find someone else to be interested in.”

“Right. Got it. Don’t touch the friend.”

“Or what?”

“You’ll feed me my—” He doesn’t bother to finish. His face says more than enough.

“Good man. Have fun tonight.” I clap him on the shoulder and turn to find Poppy and April engaged in an intense discussion. It ends with a hug, and then Poppy laces her fingers with mine.

It takes a half hour to get out of the bar because I must introduce her to at least twenty of my teammates. When we step outside, Miller and Sunny are there, too. Miller’s holding Logan, who seems to be drooling on his shoulder, while Sunny puts the car seat back in the limo.

Miller eyes Poppy, then me. “You guys want to catch a lift?”

There doesn’t seem to be any cabs around.

“There’s a concert at House of Blues tonight. Someone said it would take twenty minutes to get a cab, so we’re using the limo. It’s gonna circle back here after dropping us home,” Miller explains.

I can’t wait any more than I already have, so I motion for Poppy to get in first. A flash of memory hits me as I give her my hand and she steps inside: Miller drunk off his ass, me ushering girls into a limo, a red ponytail.

“Lance?” Poppy hesitates. “Do you want to wait?” She wiggles her hand in mine. I’m squeezing it. Tightly.

I loosen my grip. “No. It’s okay. It’s cold. We should go.”

I follow after her, more memories trickling in—ones I don’t want. I’m sure Poppy’s familiar with all of them. She settles beside me in the limo and takes my hand, her curious gaze questioning. I give her a tight smile, but say nothing.