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“Thank you. Now, come on.” She reaches for the door handle and steps out of the car. I follow her, and as soon as my feet hit the sidewalk, she’s linking her arm with mine. “We need drinks and some sexy hard bodies to grind against.”
I nod because that sounds like a damn good time to me after the hellish week of midterms. We pay our cover to get into the club, and with a quick text message to Kate, we head to the back where our friends have secured a booth.
“About damn time!” Troy stands from the table and wraps his arms around Autumn in a hug. He smiles at me over her shoulder. His eyes are glassy, which tells me he’s well on his way to being drunk off his ass. More than that, drunk Troy is an emotional Troy. Tonight just got a little more interesting.
“Parker,” Troy slurs and teams it with a big cheesy smile. He doesn’t let go of Autumn, and the way that she grins up at him tells me she’s not the least bit upset about it. Yeah, we are definitely going to have that conversation.
“You need drinks,” Kate announces. “Let’s go, Monroe.” She grabs my hand and pulls me to the bar.
“Vodka cranberry!” Autumn calls after us, not bothering to leave Troy’s embrace to follow.
“Are they ever going to be official and put the rest of us out of our misery?” Kate asks as we reach the bar.
I shrug. “I don’t know. They’re both stubborn as hell.” I toss my long dark hair over my shoulder. I haven’t even hit the dance floor, and I’m already burning up in here. It’s packed, not that I’m surprised. This is a college town, after all.
“We can all see it,” Kate says with a sigh. “I hate feeling like we’re in the middle. We all know they want each other.”
I nod because she’s right. It’s crystal clear to those on the outside, but I also know that it’s not always that easy if you’re the one living it. I watched that with my older sister, Paisley, and her now husband, Cameron.
Kate’s hand clamps down on my arm where it’s resting on the bar while I wait for the bartender to notice me. “What?” I ask her.
“Hottie, nine o’clock. He’s not stopped looking at you since we stepped up to the bar,” she tells me in an excited whisper-yell over the music of the club.
“Really?” I ask enthusiastically. I’ve been single for far too long. Not that I think this hottie that Kate speaks of will change that, but I’m definitely ready to let loose and have some fun. If there’s a hot guy included in that, that’s just a bonus.
Slowly, I turn my head to casually look at where she stated, and my eyes lock with his. I suck in a breath when I realize who he is. Dark, messy hair, a crooked grin, and the tight black T-shirt he’s wearing shows me he’s fit. Not that I didn’t already know. I can’t see them from this far away, but his bright blue eyes remind me of a bright sunny day. How do I know? Because the sexy man staring me down like I might be his next meal is none other than Holden Bailey. The star shortstop for the Tomahawks. He’s admittedly the best shortstop in the league, which is what he’s known for in addition to his playboy ways. He doesn’t even hide the fact or try to deny it when reporters ask him about the rotating arm candy he’s photographed with. He might be sexy as hell, but he’s not the fun I’m looking for. The last thing I want is to be labeled as another one of his many women.
Growing up with my dad and now having a brother-in-law who is a professional athlete, I know all too well what the media is capable of. Not to mention my dad would flip his shit if he thought I was dating Holden.
“He’s pretty,” Kate whispers, pulling my attention back to her.
“He’s pretty, but he’s a playboy.” It’s a crying shame too. Kate’s description is a little off. He’s more than pretty. He’s sex personified. I’ve always had a thing for athletic men. That’s the hardship of growing up around them, I guess. Regardless, Holden Bailey is every girl's dream guy, except for the notches on his bedpost. Sure, I know the media can blow things out of proportion, but when the man does nothing to dissuade the rumors, well, it has to be true, right?
“You looking for forever, Park?” she teases.
“Nope. But not looking for an STD either.” I shrug and raise my hand in the air, finally getting the bartender's attention.
“What can I get you, ladies?” he asks.
I order a vodka cranberry for Autumn and me and pass him some cash. “I guess I should have made sure no one else needed a drink,” I say, turning to look at Kate.
