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Ace will get his shot—after me. He’s a sophomore and set to take over my position next season. He’s currently chomping at the bit to take my place right now, but the fucker needs to learn his place. Luckily, my teammates feel the same way, and we’ve been giving him endless shit all night.
Oh, and I’m well on my way to being buzzed. Drinking my third beer and not in the mood to stop. Girls come around the table every few minutes, all of them overly flirtatious and dressed to kill. As in, showing off all of their physical assets in the hopes to entice us.
Not cappin’ on them, just stating facts.
We’ve got groupies, and most of the time, I’m interested. In fact, ninety-nine percent of the time I’d already have my sights set on one and I’d currently be trying to figure out a way to get her to leave with me. A hookup in the back seat of the Challenger happens more often than not, or I go back to her place. It’s a rare occasion that I bring her back to my apartment. I don’t like doing that.
They don’t deserve to see my inner sanctum. Worse, they get kind of weird and start having expectations. Like maybe they could move in.
What the actual fuck?
For real, I had that happen once, which Knox thought was hilarious. The fucker. He doesn’t really bring girls back to our apartment either.
The groupies tonight though? They’re not interested in me—they’re all swarming Ace. It doesn’t matter that he’s not twenty-one yet and currently drinking copious amounts of beer, thanks to the fake ID he has on him that says he’s from Louisiana. He doesn’t even have an accent.
The asshole is from Washington state for God’s sake.
The groupies aren’t bothered by the fact that he’s only twenty either. The girls are digging him, and I just don’t get it. I guess he’s decent looking. Doesn’t seem to say much to them, just grin like an idiot, but they’re still fawning all over him. The rest of us are giving him grief and he takes it all good-naturedly, which is even more annoying. I play along and steadily sip from my beer, my mood shifting. Darkening the longer the night goes on. I hate being a jealous fuck but…
I’m a jealous fuck.
Until I seeher.
The moment I lay eyes on Blair Maguire, every hair on my body feels like it’s standing on end, completely aware of her presence. My heart rate kicks up and there’s a sense of relief, knowing that she’s here.
Within reach.
Not sure when she slipped into Logan’s, but there she is, as beautiful as I’ve ever seen her. Her blonde hair cascades down her back in soft waves, and she can’t stop smiling and laughing at whatever the other two girls she’s with are doing and saying. She’s currently wearing baggy jeans—the girls rarely wear skinny jeans anymore, which I always appreciated because I’m an ass man—and a cropped black T-shirt that shows off the flat expanse of her stomach and emphasizes the generous curve of her tits.
I scrub my hand over my face, like maybe my vision is blurry, and it’ll change, but nope. There she is. Fucking gorgeous and oblivious to my existence.
All thoughts of the rules I made for myself in regards to Blair Maguire fly right out the window at seeing her. I want to go talk to her.
Touch her.
Shit.
“What’s your problem?” Derek slaps my chest, and I glare at him, wishing he’d leave me the hell alone. “What, are you jealous of Ace getting all the ladies’ attention?”
“Of course not,” I mutter.
“Oh. Because I am. That little fucker doesn’t deserve it.” Only Derek would call the six-foot-five, two-hundred-and-ten-pound backup quarterback little. That’s because Derek is bigger than Ace. “With that pretty boy face and theawe shucksattitude.”
“He’s fine.” I wave a dismissive hand.
“He thinks he’s the shit.”
“Heisthe shit.” I don’t bother denying it. What’s the point?
“You’re better.”
“For now. Once I’m gone, he’s still got two years to go, and he’s already impressive.” I hate feeling subpar, but I’m wallowing in it tonight, something I rarely do. But shit, when you’ve got a constant reminder that you’re on the way out and your replacement is dying for you to leave?
It’s hard not to focus on that.
“While you’ll be in the NFL, number one in the league and winning championships,” Derek says with way more confidence than I’m feeling.
“Sounds like a dream, bud.” I grab my bottle and bring it to my lips, tipping my head back and taking a swallow, my gaze never straying from Blair.
