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Sometimes I’m surprised he can’t read I’M LUCY’S SISTER written in neon on my forehead. If he even remembers who she was. Hopefully, he’ll never put two and two together.
He probably thinks I’m just another casual fuck from some random night he can’t quite remember.
I move away to talk to some of the other players as they fill their plates and find seats at the tables scattered through the room. Everyone seems to be digging happily into the food, and I feel the warm glow of my first success.
It’s almost claustrophobic—to be surrounded by so much muscle, but I already know that many of them are as sweet as Liam, and it’s the same feeling I get when I cook him something that he likes.
“Hiya, Ms. Izzie,” Dirk says, giving me his shy smile. “I was looking for those muffins you promised me.”
I smile back at him. How can you help but like a guy who could crush a full-grown chicken in one fist if he wanted to but refuses to even eat an egg?
“Right over here, Dirk,” I say, pointing toward the plate with theVlabel just as Brady grabs the last muffin and stuffs it into his mouth. Dirk and I look at the empty plate, holding only a dusting of crumbs, where a dozen muffins were piled just a few minutes ago.
“Where’d they all go?” Dirk says, his deep voice plaintive.
Wordlessly, I point to Brady, who’s eating the last bite of muffin. I stand there, hands on my hips and glaring at him, and he starts to turn around.
“Hey, Izzie, those were just about the best muffins I’ve eaten in years,” he says in a jaunty voice. His smile fades as he sees that it’s Dirk behind him, not me.
I giggle as I watch his eyes, which were ready to settle somewhere around my boobs, now traveling up Dirk’s broad chest as he towers over Brady.
“Those muffins were for me, Thomas,” Dirk growls. “Ms. Izzie makes them special because I’m a vegan. Unless you’re vegan, too?”
“I…uh…uh, no,” Brady stammers, his usual cocksure composure puddling somewhere around his feet. I bet he doesn’t even know what a vegan is.
I can barely keep from laughing and have to settle for a smirk, standing behind Dirk where he can’t see me, but Brady can.
“I, uh, didn’t know.” He shoots me a dirty look, and I just smile innocently.
“I tried to tell you,” I said. Then I smile at Dirk and put a reassuring hand on his meaty forearm. “It’s okay, Dirk. I have another batch in the oven, just about done. If you want to sit down, I’ll bring them up to you in a few minutes.”
Dirk gives me a sweet smile again. He looks like Liam’s teddy bear. “I sure do appreciate it,” he says in his Southern drawl, beaming at me. He grabs some fruit and then lumbers off to a table, glaring at Brady again, who looks like he’s going to throw up all those muffins he was chain-eating.
It’s pretty entertaining to see Mr. Cocksure suddenly not so sure at all.
I turn to go downstairs to the kitchen, and Brady follows me, catching my arm. “You did that on purpose,” he mutters.
I shrug, trying to ignore the fact that his fingers on my bare arm give me an electric shock. “I tried to tell you.”
“Well, you didn’t try very hard,” he says. I glare at his fingers on my arm until he removes them.
“Well, maybe next time you’ll listen,” I say, unexpected anger rising in my voice. “Everything in this world isn’t there expressly for your benefit, Mr. Brady Thomas.”
Like Lucy. Did you even say a single word when she broke up with you so that you could change schools without a qualm? I bet you didn’t.
Brady’s giving me that weird, appraising stare again, like he just can’t quite figure out who I am. I know there are moments, according to Gigi, when I’m a lot like Lucy in my expressions and how I say things.
Is that what catches him? This is getting uncomfortable, and we’ve only just started the season.
“Excuse me,” I say elaborately, then make my way to the kitchen. Muffins are so nice and uncomplicated.
