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I set my phone on the table and wait, ignoring the conversations going on around me, focusing on the front of the bar, searching for that familiar blonde head I like so damn much. I drain the last of my beer, grateful when one of my teammates swipes the mug from me and refills it from the fresh pitcher that was just delivered to our table. I lift my mug at him in a cheers gesture and take another sip, right as Blair appears.
Swear to God, a beam of light follows her wherever she walks, like she’s an angel sent from heaven. I watch her make her way toward our table, taking in her outfit. She’s got on black leggings that mold to her skin, reminding me just how long they are. And she’s wearing my T-shirt I gave her. It’s way too big and she’s got it knotted on the right side, resting just at her hip with a zip-up gray hoodie thrown over it. Her hair is down and her lips are slicked in some glossy stuff that I want to see all over my dick later, and fuck, I am so relieved to see her I feel like I could collapse.
Thank Christ I’m sitting down or I’d probably make a damn fool of myself.
She stops at the front of our table, a beautiful smile on her equally beautiful face, her gaze scanning everyone I’m seated with before those pretty eyes settle on me. “Hey, guys. Great game today.”
They all greet her with friendly hellos, respectful because she’s Maguire’s sister, and I tip my head toward her, scooting over a bit and patting the now empty spot right beside me.
With no hesitation she settles right in, her warm, soft body nestled close to mine and I lean in, inhaling as subtly as possible, breathing her delicious scent.
“Camden,” she murmurs.
I lift my glass toward her. “Bumblebee.”
Her eyes are sparkling, I swear to God, though she’s trying to look stern. And failing—miserably. “Are you drunk?”
“On my way there.”
Her façade cracks a little, her eyes now shining with worry. “Oh, Cam. You had a rough go of it today.”
“Bad,” I agree with a nod, taking a giant swallow. I just want to forget tonight. Forget my troubles and the stress and the worry. Just focus on getting shitfaced and spending the night with this pretty girl sitting next to me. Will she let me lose myself in her? Just for a little bit?
Fuck, I hope so.
“You played great in the last quarter,” she says, trying to turn a negative into a positive.
“Thanks.” My voice is clipped and I feel like a dick, but there’s still sympathy in her eyes, so I didn’t totally fuck it up.
Yet.
“What do you need from me?” she whispers, her hand settling on my thigh, warm and reassuring.
“Nothing.” I meet her gaze, hoping she sees how serious I am. “Just having you here sitting next to me so I can look at you is enough.”
Her smile turns tremulous and she squeezes my thigh, leaning in slightly so she can murmur, “I wish we were alone.”
“Me too.” I pause. “I’d kiss you if we were.”
Her cheeks turn pink. “How long do you have to stay?”
“I can leave whenever the hell I want.” I announce this loudly, causing a few heads to turn in my direction. “You ready to go?”
An awkward laugh escapes her, and when no one is paying attention to us, she rests her finger against her pursed lips. Damn if that doesn’t make me want to lean in and kiss that pretty mouth of hers, right here in front of everyone. Fuck it.
I sway toward her, my head swimming from the beer, and she presses a hand against my shoulder, keeping me from getting any closer. I know exactly what she’s doing and she’s only respecting my wishes, but that hurts too.
“Let’s go,” I practically growl in her ear.
She shakes her head, refusing to look at me, her nails digging into my thigh. Good thing I’m wearing jeans or she might draw blood. “You’re trying to cause a scene, Cam, and that’s not like you. Let’s get you to calm down first and then I’ll go. A few minutes after I leave, you can leave too and come back to my place.” Her head angles toward mine. “Okay?”
Leaning back in my seat, I nod, settling my hand over hers and giving it a squeeze. I don’t mean to be a dick. I’m just frustrated with myself and a little drunk.
Doesn’t help that I consume more beer, despite the disapproving looks Blair sends in my direction every time I take another swig. I choose to ignore her, polishing off my fourth beer and finally forgetting all of my troubles regarding the game.
Now I’m just flat-out drunk. And more than a little sloppy.
“Should we get an Uber?” I whisper to Blair, needing her to talk to me. She’s too busy laughing over something Derek says, and I tell myself not to act like a dick. He’s got a girl with giant tits sitting on his lap, who’s totally into him. He doesn’t give a damn about Blair.
