Page 202 of Faking the Goal

Her entire face lights up when she finds me watching her, and she lifts one hand in an enthusiastic wave. I shake my head, smiling, and lift mine back.

"Geez, man," Liam mutters beside me.

"What?"

He chuckles and takes another drink. "You're fucking gone for that girl."

I look back at Taylor. She's already returned her attention to the dartboard, loudly insisting that Luke move because his "negative energy" is ruining her aim.

A quiet laugh leaves me.

He has no fucking idea how right he is.

Taylor throws again, and although the dart actually manages to hit the board this time, her celebration is cut short when she steps backward and stumbles over her own feet. Luke catches her arm before she can go down, and she immediately starts laughing like nearly eating shit is the funniest thing that's happened all night.

Yeah. That's my cue.

I leave my beer on the table and walk over to them, slipping an arm around Taylor's waist from behind and pulling her securely against me. "All right, trouble. I think we're done for tonight."

She immediately relaxes into me, tipping her head back against my chest until she can look up at me. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes a little glassy, and there's a lazy smile spread across her face that has no business being this fucking mesmerizing.

"Hey, baby," she says, dragging the words out sweetly. "Did you see how good I am at darts?"

Luke snorts. "You almost took out a waitress."

Taylor doesn't even acknowledge him. She turns in my arms instead, sliding both of hers around my neck and looking up at me expectantly. "Did you see?"

"I saw."

"And?"

I bite back a smile. "You were incredible."

Behind her, Luke makes a strangled sound. "Oh, come on."

Taylor beams at me like I've just handed her a trophy. "See? My boyfriend thinks I'm incredible."

"I said you were incredible. I didn't say you were good at darts."

Her eyes narrow for all of two seconds before she decides she doesn't care and presses herself closer, resting her chin against my chest. "Still counts."

"Sure."

She starts playing absently with the hair at the back of my neck, apparently perfectly content to hang off me for the rest of the night. If any other drunk girl had ever clung to me like this, I would've been looking for the fastest way out. With Taylor, all I can think about is how fucking cute she is like this.

Apparently alcohol turns Trouble affectionate.

Very affectionate.

"Ken-chan?"

"Hmm?"

"You're really handsome."

I chuckle. "Am I?"

"Mhm." She studies my face with drunken seriousness before reaching up and smoothing one hand over my cheek. "Like... annoyingly handsome. It's actually very inconvenient."