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Can you even imagine Carina perched on my lap and petting my chest like an overzealous groupie?
Fuck…that girl would be more likely to take a giant chunk out of me.
With her teeth.
We’re talking full-on Hannibal Lector.
My gaze coasts over the crowd searching for the hot blonde. She showed up earlier with Ryder and Juliette. One look at me and she promptly spun on her heels and stalked away.
I shouldn’t have expected anything less. She’s been shaking her ass on the dance floor nonstop for the past hour.
I’ve always enjoyed watching Carina dance. I could—and probably have—done it for hours at a stretch. When we were in high school, I’d slip into the studio while she practiced. There was something about her graceful movements that never failed to soothe everything inside me.
She was like my own personal Xanax.
When I don’t immediately find her, my brows pinch together, and I crane my neck, glancing around the bar.
“Ford?” Darcy presses closer, attempting to reclaim my distracted attention.
I force my gaze to hers. “Yeah?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to get out of here?”
“Yeah, I am.” As reluctant as I am to hurt her feelings, I don’t want her to think I’m leading her on. “You understand that I’m not looking for anything serious, right?”
Her face falls as her gaze slides away. “Yeah, I do.”
I’ve always tried to be upfront with girls when hooking up. Short of having them sign a disclosure form that states they fully understand this is a one-night encounter, I don’t know what else to do.
And Darcy?
We’ve never actually screwed around because I know she’s not looking for a couple hours spent between the sheets. She wants a boyfriend and for some reason, her sights are set on me. I’d almost feel better about the situation if she slept with a couple of the other guys on the team.
A flash of long blonde hair catches my attention and my head swivels so fast that I nearly give myself whiplash. Looks like Carina’s hanging out at the bar. There’s a bright smile on her face.
When was the last time she looked at me like that?
It’s been years.
I’m so intent on staring at her that it takes a handful of seconds to realize that some dude is attempting to shoot his shot. Not only is he standing entirely too close, but he’s playing with a lock of her hair, winding it around his finger as if trying to reel her in like a trout.
A punch of jealousy hits me square in the gut and nearly steals the breath from my lungs.
Oh.
Hell.
No.
Before I realize it, my hands wrap around Darcy’s waist and I hoist her up, setting her on her feet before jumping to mine in one swift movement.
“Ford? Where are you going?”
This time, I don’t bother glancing in her direction. I’m afraid if I take my eyes off Carina for one damn second, she’ll disappear with this asshat before I can run interference.
And if that happens…
I don’t even want to think about what I’ll do.
