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I need more from her than just one date. I need more than her ass pressed up against my hard cock through layers of clothes.
Jesus Christ, Cam, get it together, I think to myself, once again adjusting in my seat.
This girl is going to be my ruin.
The waitress appears with the tray of shots and hands them out to all the players and the girlfriends.
Kos raises his glass. The second it starts its descent to the table, everyone else does the same. We each set it on the table for a millisecond before throwing it back.
Before the waitress leaves, I order another double whiskey sour and quickly down the rest of the one I still have.
When the second one appears, I drink a third of the glass in a few large gulps, catching a side-eye from Kos.
I read his expression without any words needing to be said. You good?
One sharp nod from me, and his focus goes back to Laura, who is already dancing in her seat to the music. Not in the way a sober Laura would. In the way drunk Laura wants to dance the night away with Kos.
Not two minutes after I notice that, she is dragging him to the dance floor. They are followed out by the other couples and a few of the single guys who take only a second to find a girl.
I’m not feeling up to dancing tonight. In fact, I’m not feeling much up to partying tonight in general.
Nudging Brett, I lean into his shoulder to speak over the loud music. “Hey, man, I’m going to grab an Uber. I’m fucking beat.”
“You sure, bro?” Brett asks, looking a bit concerned because we always leave together.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Get home safe,” I tell him before I pull my phone out and order an Uber. It’s two minutes away.
Sliding out of the booth, I start heading over to the guys to say my good-byes when I’m stopped by a smokeshow of a redhead.
“Care to dance?” she asks me, her words slurring together.
She’s hot, but she’s got nothing on Nikki. No one in the world is as beautiful as that damn woman.
“I’m good, thanks.” I point to Brett. “I’m sure he would love to dance though.”
Brett smirks at the girl, and she’s already swaying her hips and walking over to him.
My phone alerts me that my ride is here. I quickly say good-bye to my teammates and hype them up about our win tonight. The cold air is refreshing when I open the door and walk outside.
When I slide into the backseat of the car, my Uber driver, Bryan, greets me, “Hey. How’s your night going?”
I pull my phone out of my back pocket and set it in my lap. “All right. Yours?”
He merges into traffic. “Pretty good. Been super busy, so I can’t complain about that.”
“Very true,” I say in an upbeat tone.
Picking my phone up, I do the one thing you shouldn’t do drunk—text the person you’re into.
Me: Little Dove, I can’t get you out of my fucking head. I should have kissed you that night so I would know what your lips tasted like…
Three dots appear and disappear a moment later.
Fuck. What do I have to do to win this girl over?
“We’re almost there,” Bryan announces.
“Thanks, man.”
