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And then he spotted her. The chick from the gym that had held Ned totally rapt. He’d been unable to tear his eyes away—kind of like his current state.
“What’s going on with her?” Breck asked. So much for spilling the beans. His best friend was completely derailed.
“She’s that girl from—”
“Your class, yeah, I know. Have you talked to her, though? Made any headway? Do you like her?” Breck was curious to know. Because, again, she wasn’t exactly Ned’s type. Breck’s own admission could wait a few if it’d mean scoring the goods.
“I… I don’t know.” Ned’s tone sounded bemused. “Maybe?Ithink?” His words faltered, his brain palpably churning. “I just… feel drawn to her in the weirdest way. Like I know her from somewhere or something… Gah, I can’t explain it.”
He stood from the table and smoothed out his shirt. “I’m gonna go say hello.”
Breck eyed him oddly. “Have you talked to her before?”
Ned finger-combed a hand through his mane of black hair. “A little, not much... And then college ended.” He tracked her intently. “Maybe I’ll ask her to dance.”
Seriously?
Breck regarded the girl again. Definitely not the club-bunny type Ned typically targeted. No micro-mini with a corset pushing up her tits. No gobs of make-up or brazen porn-star allure. Granted, she looked more dolled up than she had at the gym. Mascara and liner. Some tinted lip gloss. Sun-streaked hair down over her shoulders in light brown waves. A halter top over a modest rack. Low-rise jeans hugging narrow hips and long, sculpted legs. Maybe not a supermodel, but Breck had to admit, she had it going on.
He watched as Ned approached the girl, his gaze still locked like a heat-seeking missile on her back. His vibe that of a man determined not to let her get away.
Intriguing.
Ned normally threw out his allure and let the ladies come to him.
His target headed to the bar with her dark-haired friend, a Eurasian beauty with hair down to her ass and eyes like midnight suns. Breck’s stomach clenched, thinking of Kai yet again. Ever and always ensnared by his captivating gaze.
Breck sighed and turned back around. “Get ’er, tiger.”
He had no doubt whatsoever that Ned would. In other words, his buddy would be occupied for the rest of the night. And honestly, Breck should probably be following his lead. God knew, everywhere he looked, girls were staring him down in open invitation, their please-God-do-whatever-you-want-to-me eyes impossible to miss. They’d certainly keep his mind off of things. Unfortunately, like last night at the party, he just wasn’t feeling it.
“Jesus. That line at the bar is ridiculous.”
Breck turned to find Tad and Scott returning with five shots and a beer.
Tad looked around. “Where’re the others?”
“Ned’s on the hunt, as per usual.” Breck gestured to the crowd of grinding bodies next. “The other two are out on the dance floor, trying to have sex with their clothes still on.”
Tad laughed and shook his head, sliding back into his seat. Scott settled in beside him and wound an arm around his waist. And what do you know, Tad didn’t flush this time. Because he’d been drinking, or maybe he was just adjusting more to his brand-new lifestyle.
Breck almost smiled, genuinely glad for his friend, the sight of him with Scott like a little hit of happy.
“Well, I’m not waiting for them.” Tad slid Breck his glass. “And neither should you, Harland. Green Apple Smirnoff. Bottoms up.” He’d ordered Breck’s favorite.
If only Breck were in the mood for shots. Forcing a smile, he lifted his glass. “Thanks, Mitchel. Cheers.”
—FOURTEEN—
“This is stupid. What am I doing?” Breck muttered.
Turn around,feet. Turn around.
They didn’t, though, and he didn’t fight them. Just kept heading down the sidewalk as he bounced his ball. Jegs and the others had talked him into meeting them at the basketball court. He was merely taking the scenic route—that just so happened to pass by a certain Grandmaster’s dojang.
And who knew, maybe the prospect of this detour was the reason he’d agreed to play ball in the first place. Didn’t hurt that he wasn’t hungover for the first Saturday in ages. Because ‘Friday nights were created for drinking.’ It was a law of the universe and shit. But he hadn’t been in the mood. So, he’d kept his alcohol intake to a bare fucking minimum. Thankfully, no one gave him grief. Probably because those in his posse were too buzzed to notice.
Except for Scott, the designated driver. Breck was pretty sure he’d been aware of his sober state. Hadn’t said anything though, or brought it to the attention of the others. Just quietly regarded Breck every now and again.
