Oh, God. No. I knew that voice.
I turned slightly, and standing there was Benji Oliver, holding a beer in one hand and the other shoved inside hisexpensive suit pocket, which was a little over the top for a sports bar if you asked me.
“Hi, Benji,” I said, trying for a polite smile. Benji was a colleague—a sports reporter for a major network and a pain in my ass.
“Well, damn, I knew that was you. How have you been?” he asked, like we were old friends, instead of the guy who asked me out repeatedly and always got shot down. “It feels like I don’t see you around much anymore.”
“I’ve been good, but busy,” I said politely.
“Busy, huh? I feel like every time I run into you lately, you disappear before I get a chance to talk to you.”
I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and sipped my drink. I wasn’t going to touch that comment with a ten-foot pole.
“Benji, this is Ember.” I motioned toward my friend, who leaned against the bar with her eyebrows raised, silently asking,What do we have here?
He shook her hand and looked over his shoulder. “My buddies and I have a table if you and your friend want to join us.”
Yeah, that would not be happening.
“Thanks for the offer, but we are all set.”
“You know.” He angled his body closer. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to grab a drink with me. Maybe this is a sign.”
The guy did not know how to take a hint.
“Benji.” I sighed. I was just about to turn him down when a warm hand settled against my lower back. It was firm, calming, and familiar.
“Hey,” Nate said casually, stepping up beside me. “Everything good over here?”
Benji’s posture straightened immediately. “Hey, dude. How’s it going? I ran into a few guys from the team. Didn’t realize you were here too.”
Nate’s hand tightened on my back. “I’m doing just fine.”
“Great game last weekend. You were on fire, dude.”
Of course, he was sucking up.
“Thanks. I appreciate it, but I can’t take all the credit. It’s a team effort.”
Nate appeared calm and kept his expression neutral, but there was something subtle underneath his tone. He wasn’t being obvious about it, but I could tell he didn’t like this.
Benji, who was completely clueless, drifted closer to me. “Becca and I were just talking shop. I just invited her and her friend to sit with me at my table. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
Nate’s eyes met mine. I could tell he was trying hard not to let his irritation show. I silently begged him not to cause a scene.
He cleared his throat. “Actually, Becca and her friend are with us.”
Benji glanced between us, like he was trying to piece something together that he wasn’t expecting. “Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll let you guys get on with your night. If you change your mind, my table’s open.”
“It was good seeing you, Benji.” Nate didn’t even shake his hand. He left it exactly where it was against my back.
“You too. Good luck next weekend.”
The second Benji disappeared through the crowd, Nate turned me around to face him. “Does he flirt with you like that often?”
“Sometimes, but I don’t think he will anymore.”
“Good. I never liked the guy. He talks too damn much and doesn’t listen.”
