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I stare straight ahead stubbornly.
“No,” I eventually mutter.
“Well that’s good,” Rachel says.
“Because?”
“Because he keeps checking you out,” she says.
I snort. I might be drunk, but even I’m not delusional enough to buy that. “Bullshit.”
“I’m telling you,” Rachel says. “He’s been watching you the whole night.”
“This might come as a surprise to you, but when people have these newfangled devices called eyes, they use them. And sometimes, in a limited space, those eyes just happen to land on me, too. He’s straight.”
“Or so you think,” she counters.
“And he’s got a massive protective streak,” I continue. “So if he’s looking, it means he’s checking to make sure none of us get too drunk or do anything stupid.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t even notice if I jumped on the table right now and started stripping,” Rachel says.
“Only one way to find out.” I nod toward the middle of the room. “Have at it.”
“I’m not going to take my clothes off when I know for a fact none of you lot have any cash on you,” she scoffs.
A stray ping pong ball flies toward my face, and I catch it.
“Yo! Bates. You in?” Eric calls over the noise.
I stare at the little white ball, rolling it between my fingers.
Eric pushes through the crowd and snatches it out of my hand.
“Drunk?” He grins at me.
“Barely,” I say, swaying slightly. “Sure. I’ll play.”
He fist bumps me. “Me and Jen against you and…?”
I look around blearily, eyes zeroing in on Ryker. Still talking to that girl from earlier. She looks at him like he’s revealing the secrets of the universe to her. Fuck’s sake. He’s not even that interesting. I push my way toward the two of them and slap my palm against Ryker’s back. He looks at me, and I nod at the table.
“Want to play?” I ask.
He eyes me for a moment before he says, “Okay. Your team?”
I roll my eyes. “Naturally. You want to win, don’t you?”
I throw my arm over his shoulders and steer him toward the table. Away from the girl. Blatantly obvious, probably, but I don’t really care right now whether I am or not.
He’s broad. He’s muscular. I can feel every inch of that pressed up against me.
Drunk, half-hard, and in a destructive mood is not a good combination.
We line up at the table.
Jenna shoots first, and the ball lands in the cup at the front. Eric misses his and laughs.
Ryker is up next. He doesn’t hesitate. Just throws. The ball finds its target with no problem.
