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“Colton? Are you kidding me?” Tori hissed from behind me.
I glanced at the number she was holding. It was table five, and a quick look up confirmed it. Colton was sitting at table five, looking about as amused as Tori was.
“Well, that’s got Kinsley written all over it,” I mused. “Colton. Ha!”
She snatched my number and looked, then got on her tiptoes and peered around the room. Her lips curled to one side as she handed it back. “Don’t gloat yet. Have you seen your date?”
I scanned the bar for the table with the number thirteen on. I caught Dylan’s eye on the way, and he smiled.
I didn’t smile.
I froze.
He was sitting at table thirteen.
Motherfucker.
CHAPTER FOUR – DYLAN
RULE FOUR: ALWAYS SMILE. EVEN WHEN YOU WANT TO PUNCH YOURSELF IN THE FACE.
This was fucking stupid.
I couldn’t believe I’d been talked into this—that I’d let Colton convince me to do this with him. He said he was only doing it for his sister, Kinsley, but he didn’t want to do it alone.
Since he and I were the only single guys in the group, I hadn’t had a choice.
Granted, I wasn’t as against this shit as Saylor was, but I also didn’t feel like dating. I was still settling into life in White Peak. It’d only been three months since I’d moved here, and I wasn’t ready to get myself into a relationship when I honestly didn’t know how long I’d stay here.
I’d only been hired by the Montana Bears to be Seb’s personal trainer while he was recovering. If he wasn’t able to play again, there was no telling what I’d do.
I wasn’t sure this tiny mountain town had a lot of business for a personal trainer. There wasn’t even a gym here. I had to go to the nearest town twenty minutes away if I wanted to work out alone.
I stretched my arms out in front of me and cracked my knuckles. This night was going to be a bloody nightmare, and I was not looking forward to it at all. I knew exactly how it would go.
I’d be asked about my accent, then inevitably, I would be asked whether or not I knew Queen Elizabeth.
I did not, in fact, know the queen.
Nor did I know anyone who knew the queen.
It was a question I would be happy to never hear again.
I sat back in the chair and looked up as the door to the bar opened. The other half of tonight’s poor sods were guided in, all holding a piece of paper in their hands. I knew every one corresponded to the numbers on our table, and my stomach tightened as I waited to see who would head in my direction.
Saylor and Tori were easy to spot—you could hardly miss Saylor with her pink hair, after all—and I watched in amusement as Tori’s expression soured. She’d looked in Colton’s direction, and I silently laughed.
I’d put money on Kinsley having a hand in that one.
My laughter was short lived, however.
Tori’s gaze cast across the room, and a smirk pulled across her face as she said something in Saylor’s ear. Saylor visibly froze and looked in my direction, then down at her card, and back up at me.
No.
No way.
She mouthed something that looked awfully like, “Motherfucker,” and my worst fears came true.
She headed in my direction.
Now, don’t think I was mad about this. I wasn’t; not angry, per se. I enjoyed Saylor’s company a lot, but the last thing I needed was to have an actual dinner date with her.
My roommate.
Whom I happened to be very much attracted to.
It was a daily effort to keep that to myself, and when she’d yanked her sweater off yesterday morning after crashing my morning cup of tea, I’d almost thrown her on the kitchen island and given her a real reason to have her boobs popping out of her top.
So, yeah.
This was not something I needed tonight.
And here I was, chuckling at Tori and Colton.
This was fucking karma.
“Well, hello,” Saylor said, sauntering up to the table. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she added as if she hadn’t thrown out my fresh cup of tea this morning because she’d thought it was ‘cold.’
I stood and walked around the table, holding out my hand. “Dylan Parker. And you are?”
Her lips twitched as she put her hand in mine. “Saylor Green. It’s a pleasure.”
I brought her hand to my lips and kissed the back of her fingers, then winked. Her cheeks flushed a light pink, but I pretended not to notice. Instead, I moved to pull her chair out for her and help her with her coat.
She might have mouthed motherfucker when she realized I was her date, but that was my exact reaction when I saw what she was wearing.
Her dress was black with long sleeves and bloody skin-tight. It hugged every goddamn inch of her body, and there was a little cut out on her chest that offered just the hint of the cleavage I knew for a fact lay under that fabric.
