Bear Meets Girl

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Cella crawled over the bear, landing on his chest and bouncing up and down until he woke up.

“Must you do that?”

“Yes.” She laughed, kissed his neck. “I have to get to the Sports Center.”

“No,” Crush whined, reaching for her. “Stay with me here.”

Cella batted off his hands. “Do you really want me to tell the Marauder that I didn’t show up for a game because I was busy having sex with you?”

“He’s all about personal responsibility. He’ll blame you, not me.”

“You bastard.” She pinched his nose and covered his mouth until she felt she’d gotten her message across.

“Now,” she said once she’d released him and he could breathe, “are you coming to the game tonight?”

“Of course, I am. It’s my team. And the Marauder’s playing.”

She covered his nose and mouth again, not letting him push her off until she was sure she’d really gotten her message across. “Are you coming to the game tonight?” she asked again.

“How could I ever dream of missing you play?”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

She kissed him and scrambled off before he could grab her and pull her back. “Do you need tickets or anything?”

“Nope. I’m meeting Conway at the Sports Center.”

“But you are coming to the locker room after, right?”

“Can I bring Conway and totally show off that I’m gettin’ it on with Bare Knuckles Malone?”

“What kind of pretend girlfriend would I be if I didn’t let you do that?”

“So we’re still going for the pretend, eh?”

“Yep. I’ll see you after the game.”

He grumbled something and turned over.

Cella stopped outside the bedroom to find Lola standing there. She’d had Tommy pick up the dog and bring it, her, whatever, to the hotel room. And Crush had been so happy when he’d seen her that Cella just knew she’d have to really face the fact that the man had a dog and that dog, no matter how unattractive, would always be around.

Cella stepped aside and gestured to the bed. “Well, go on. Since I’m not there.”

Lola ran past her, but the poor thing couldn’t leap up on the bear-sized king with those short legs. So Cella, her lip curled in disgust, slipped her hand under that chubby ass and hoisted her onto the bed.

Then, without even a thank-you, the dog ran and cuddled up next to Cella’s bear, burrowing against his chest.

Wishing she could do that herself, Cella forced herself to leave and head down to the lobby. Mario the driver waited right outside, smiling when he saw her approach.

“Hello, Miss Malone.”

“Hi, Mario.”

She handed over her equipment bags to Mario and settled into the backseat. She’d just started to relax when her cell phone went off. She dug it out of her backpack and looked at the text message.

GOOD LUCK TONIGHT, SEXY.

Grinning, Cella texted back:

I BETTER SEE YOU LATER. YOU KNOW HOW I AM AFTER A GAME. HEH.

“Yep,” Cella told Mario. “Best pretend boyfriend ever.”

“Oh, come on, Miss Malone,” Mario playfully shot back. “Pretend boyfriend, my butt. Everybody at KZS knows you’re dating that bear.”

“It’s not official or anything,” she argued.

“Lame.”

“Shut up, Mario.”

They reached the Sports Center pretty quickly considering it was nearly rush hour, and Mario parked right by the front doors.

Once Cella had all her equipment, Mario patted her shoulder. “Good luck tonight, Miss Malone.”

“Thanks.”

“Will I be picking you up after the game?”

“I’m not really sure. I’ll text you.” She walked off, heading toward the exclusive entrance. A wolf security guard was holding the door open for her when she suddenly stopped and looked over her shoulder.

“Everything all right, Miss Malone? Miss Malone?”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks.”

Cella took one more look around, but didn’t see anything. It was just a feeling. Letting out a breath, she headed inside, smiling at the wolf still watching her. Once in the hallway, she put down her stuff and pulled out her cell phone. She hit her speed-dial and waited.

“Smith.”

“It’s Cella.”

“Yep.”

“I think someone’s following me.”

Smith was silent for a moment, then said, “You at the Sports Center?”

“Yeah. And my father and Crush are going to be here tonight.”

“I’ll be right over.”

Crush impatiently stood in line with Conway. Usually he was impatient to see the game. But for the first time he could remember, he was impatient for the game to be over so he could see a woman. Not just any woman, either. But a foul-mouthed little feline with what his foster mother would have called “unsavory family connections.” Like Peg Baissier was British royalty or something.

“You’re really liking this girl, aren’t you?”

“I specifically like her because she’s not a girl.”

“You mean because she’s a feline?”

Crush remembered to hold his temper in. “Because she’s a woman.”

“Girl. Woman. What’s the difference?”

“Ask your wife that. When the swelling goes down, let me know how well she took it.”

Conway chuckled. “Chay’s just glad you’ve found a girlfriend.”

“Pretend girlfriend.”

“Are you having sex with her?”

“None of your business.”

“That’s a yes, otherwise you’d just say no. You’re one of those honest guys.”

“You make that sound wrong.”

“Depends. And if you’re having regular sex with her, she’s not your pretend anything.”

“I don’t know if we’re that serious yet.” Or maybe he just didn’t know if Cella was that serious. She was not an easy woman to figure out; he at least knew that much.

While Crush was busy contemplating the extent of his relationship with Cella, he noticed that the crowd had grown disturbingly quiet. He looked at Conway, both of them frowning. Then he looked to his left—and into the cold blue eyes of the Marauder.

“Uh ... hi?”

The Marauder looked him over. “What are you doing?”

Crush again looked at Conway, but his friend could only shrug.

“Waiting to get my seat.”

“But this is the line for the shitty seats.”

A bit insulted, Crush looked down at his season holder ticket. “They’re a bit high up, perhaps, but I still see the game well enough.” There. That was well put.

Well put for someone not The Marauder.

“But they’re shitty seats. We call those the shit seats.”

One of the males of the hyena clan standing behind Crush snapped, “Do you mind? We paid good money for these seats.”

The polar bear–lion hybrid only turned his head, scowl turning him into something so fearsome Crush was glad the man had never become a criminal.

“Did you just interrupt me?” Novikov asked the hyena.

“What if I did?” the hyena demanded, and that’s when Crush remembered the idiot and his Clan members had already had more than a few beers between them.

After years of being a beat cop, Crush went on instinct and grabbed Novikov seconds before those big hands were around the hyena’s throat. Conway kept the hyenas back by flashing his badge and eventually his gun.

“You’re gonna be late for the game!” Crush reminded Novikov and the hybrid immediately stopped fighting and looked at his watch.

“Shit!”

He grabbed his equipment and motioned at Crush. “Well, come on.”

Figuring he wanted Crush and Conway to keep the fans off him until he got to the locker rooms, Crush pulled his buddy and the pair followed after him.

“What about our seats?” Conway whispered to him.

“They’ll still be there when we get back.”

“So what? We’re doing protection duty now?”

“Stop whining.”

“But it’s Minnesota,” he said about the team the Carnivores were playing against.

“If you say that one more time ...”

They followed Novikov into the elevator. The doors closed and the hybrid shook his head. “Do you know who I blame for this?”

Crush was tempted to say, “Your bad temper?” but decided not to. The man was at least four inches taller and another sixty pounds heavier. Crush could shoot him, but what about the game?

As always, Crush’s priority was his team.

“Because of her. Because of Blayne Thorpe.” Novikov pointed at himself. “I’m never late. Never. And then I met her. And somehow she’s managed to get me involved in her crazy timetable. I’m always here three to four hours early so that I can practice and avoid the crowds. But I had to wait for her to get back from Long Island. Do you know why?” Rather than verbally answer, Crush and Conway just shook their heads. “Because she had a surprise for me. Do you know what kind of surprise?” Again, they went with the head shake. It seemed the safest bet. “China patterns! Do I look like I give a holy fuck about china patterns?”

Still safe to go with the head shake.

“And it doesn’t help she’s all cute and adorable and sweet. Last week, do you know what she brought into my house? My nice, pristine, perfect house? An alley cat. Not a cheetah. Or some leopard. An actual cat that lives in the alley behind my building. She wants to keep it. A cat! She’s a wolfdog and she wants to have a cat!”

“Crushek has a dog and he’s a bear.”

Novikov looked at him. “You have a dog?”

“It’s just a foster.”

“He’s said that for three fucking years.”

“I want to make sure she gets the right home!”

“Do you have other foster dogs?” Novikov asked him.

“No.”

“Then she’s your dog.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. MacRyrie and Van Holtz stepped in with welcoming smiles. Then they saw Novikov. The smiling stopped.

There was some snarling as the pair got settled and the doors closed. Crush saw MacRyrie nudge Van Holtz, then casually say to Novikov, “You’re kind of late.”

Without missing a beat, Novikov threw down his equipment and the two bears went at each other. Crush and Conway grabbed Novikov from behind, trying to pull him off MacRyrie while Van Holtz did the same with the grizzly. The problem was, they were locked on and neither seemed ready to back off.

Then the elevator stopped and the doors once again opened. That’s when Crush saw Cella standing there with Smith, Dr. Davis, and several of Cella’s female teammates.

Smirking, Cella stared at the five males in the elevator before asking the women with her, “Show of hands for anyone else who’s had this fantasy before.”

He wasn’t exactly surprised when all those hands went up.

Once off the elevator, Crush introduced her to his old partner. She was sure the man had a first name, but Crush only said, “This is Conway.” She didn’t bother busting his balls about it. She had the feeling it was a guy thing.

“Everything all right?” she asked him.

“Yep.” He smiled down at her. “Actually it’s better now.”

“Awwwwww,” said the entire hallway filled with shifters.

“He has a gun,” she announced. “I’ll let him use it.”

When everyone went back to his or her own business, Cella went up on her toes and hugged the big bear. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Uh-huh.”

She leaned back a bit, looking up into his face. “You don’t believe me?”

“I believe I just saw Smith sidle on outta here. Why’s she lurking?”

“Wow.” Cella was truly impressed. Most people, including Cella and even Van Holtz, never actually saw Smith go anywhere unless she wanted to be seen. The girl had a skill. Sissy Mae called her The Ghost. It was an accurate description.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m probably just being paranoid.”

“I’ve known a lot of paranoid people, Malone. You’re not paranoid.”

“I felt like someone was following me.”

“Then they probably were. Don’t worry. By the time the game’s over, you’ll have protection.”

“But—”

“No. Don’t wanna hear it.” Crush leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you after the game.”

“Okay.”

Conway came over to them, holding up a Carnivores T-shirt. “Check it out. I got like six team signatures.”

“I thought you were a Minnesota fan.”

Cella looked the coyote over. “You’re a Minnesota fan? Aren’t they all like bears?” She glanced up at Crush. “No offense.”

“I am a Minnesota fan. But I can sell this bad boy for a fortune.”

“Where’s the loyalty, canine?”

“He has none,” Crush explained. “He’s from Jersey.”

“Ohhh.”

The polar pointed at her. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Crush turned to head off to the elevator with his coyote friend when Novikov walked up. “Where are you going?”

Both men stopped and slowly faced the hybrid.

“To our seats.”

“The shit seats?”

Cella rolled her eyes. “Don’t pick on him about his seats.”

Now Novikov looked at her. “What kind of girlfriend are you?”

“A pretend one.”

Novikov frowned. “You’re so weird.”

“This has been established.”

“Here.” Novikov handed over two badges hanging from chains.

Crush’s eyes grew wide, his mouth dropping open. “I ... I can’t take—”

Before he could even finish, the coyote snatched the badges from Crush’s hand and slapped him in the face with the game program.

“Thanks!” Conway said, grinning widely. “Really appreciate it, man.”

“I don’t know you,” Novikov said. “It’s for him. You just happen to be with him.”

Yeah, Cella could see what Blayne Thorpe saw in the man. He’d never lie to you. He was too direct.

“Thanks,” Cella said, winking at him.

“You should have thought of it yourself.”

“Don’t piss me off before we hit the ice, mutt.”

Shaking his head, always looking a little disgusted by everyone around him, the hybrid walked off.

“I can’t—” Crush began and Cella went up on her toes, placing her hand over his mouth.

“You can. You will. It’s not like we just bribed you guys so we can bring in drugs or something. I’m just sorry I didn’t think of it myself. You’d be all over me if I had,” she teased.

And she knew that’s what had him upset. “I don’t need this stuff from you,” Crush insisted. “I don’t want it.”

“I’m kidding,” she told him.

“She’s kidding,” the coyote promised, not willing to give up those badges anytime soon.

Cella gave Conway directions to the owner’s seats, worried that Crush would go back to his nosebleed seats out of some sort of Crushek-morality thing.

She kissed him once more. “Have fun,” she ordered him. “Or Nice Guy Malone will hear about it.”

“Oh, God,” Crush said, appearing truly horrified. “Your father—”

“Is here and will be glad to see you.” Laughing, she went to the locker room to get the rest of her gear on.

Jai stopped by on her way to check on everyone else she’d been caring for since the last game.

“Heads-up,” Jai said, briskly writing damn notes on her damn clipboard.

“Heads-up on what?”

“That Minnesota team.”

“What about ’em?”

“They have a reputation. So be careful. I’d rather not have to repair your arteries tonight.”

“Got it.” Cella winked at her and finished suiting up.

She met the rest of the team waiting in the hallway, where Van Holtz felt the need to say, “I like him.”

“Who?”

“Your bear.”

“He’s not my bear. He’s a bear that I happen to be fucking at the moment.”

“Have you realized,” MacRyrie asked her, “that you’re just like Novikov but with more charm and no OCD?”

“The direct thing?”

“Yeah,” both bear and wolf said at the same time.

“I like being direct. Then no one can hold shit over your head. Like when I got pregnant in high school. I ran around telling everybody. The nuns were horrified. But no one could shame me because I’d already put it all out there. For everybody!”

The team laughed until the announcer came on. That’s when Cella motioned to Reed and the other rookies she’d been working with. “Remember what I told you guys. Don’t panic, don’t get pissed. Just play. Got me? Now get out there and kick ass.”