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Ben’s got stars in his eyes as we shove our way toward the counter, the sea of people taking advantage of cheap booze and minimal security meaning I have to glance over my shoulder every two seconds to check I haven’t lost The Golden Child.
Only my semi-prominent status as Baseball Player and Friend of Nick and Cass gets me through with minimal injury and effort but by the time we make it, a layer of sweat sticks uncomfortably to my skin and I already can’t wait to get the hell out of here.
“This place is so cool,” Ben yells in my ear as he hops on a rare unoccupied stool.
I stifle a laugh; oh, to be a young, naive freshman again, when warm beer and sticky counters and too many people in your space wascool.
And I stifle another when the moment I reach the counter, I spot a familiar face at the other end of the bar, a drink nursed in one large, tattooed hand, an ass cheek in the other.
“Nick!”
Golden eyes laced with irritation flick my way, a dark brown brow quirking as if to say‘yes? Excuse me? Why are you interrupting my very important business of feeling up yet another pretty girl?’
Rolling my eyes, I crook a couple of fingers to beckon him over, jerking my head toward my new friend.
With a long, tormented sigh that I swear I can hear even over the din of the bar, Nick briefly returns his attention to his newfriend. Whispering God knows what in the girl’s hair, he leaves her with a wink and a slap on the ass before sauntering our way. “Whatever you want, make it quick.”
Because in the thirty seconds this introduction is going to take, the girl flashing heart-shaped eyes at Nick’s retreating back will get bored and leave.Sure.
“Nick,” I ignore my friend’s comment, clamping a palm on his shoulder and guiding him toward my newest teammate, “this is Ben. Ben, this is Nick.”
Behave, I’m tempted to add, unsure who needs the reminder more.
“You’re Nicolas Silva.” Ben maintains his perfect record, three-for-three at Campus Guess Who. “Heard some people,”girls, “around campus talking about you. You’re popular.”
He knows, I think.
“I know,” Nick drawls.
I swear to God, I smell the trouble dripping from Ben, sensing the quip a second before he bares shiny, straight teeth in a sorry attempt at an innocent smile. “I didn’t think you’d be, like, old, though.”
The pride painting Nick’s features melts. A scowl contorts that life-ruining face, the mouth so skilled at seduction opening to spit something undoubtedly the opposite but an interruption saves Ben from the wrath of a large, testy Brazilian man.
“What can I get you, boys?”
With a handful of sweetly crooned words, my friends disappear. The crowd disappears. The damn bar disappears. All I see is the blonde waitress planting her palms on the counter and smiling brightly, pinning me with clear blue eyes that render me fucking useless as usual.
She smells like vanilla. Simple, rich vanilla. I want to lean in closer and breathe deep, filling my lungs with the scent until it permeates the organ.
Thankfully, I don’t do that.
I don’t do anything, actually.
She stands there, so goddamn pretty with full cheeks and fuller lips and cheekbones I could spend hours painstakingly drawing, staring at me expectantly, and I can’t get a damn word out.
It’s Nick’s snickering that drags me out of a blue-eye-addled haze, and his elbow jabbing my ribs. He rattles off our order and the waitress scribbles it down, disappearing into the back before I have a chance to get my shit together.
“You’re pathetic,” Nick laughs, shaking his head.
I groan, my elbows hitting the counter, my head cradled in my hands as I brace for the incessant teasing I’m sure is on its way.
But it never arrives.
Frowning, I tilt my head toward Nick, brows furrowing when I find his attention no longer on me. Staring off into the distance, his gaze is weirdly intense, unmistakable lust clouding it, along with something else indecipherable.
Curious as to what—or who—has a man the epitome of cool, calm, and collected looking so…off, I follow his line of sight. A slow smile spreads across my face when I find one of the only people here as often as we are.
A contrast to her coworker, Greenies’ other newest waitress is a tiny redhead with a perpetually worried brow and eerily bright eyes, and all five-foot-nothing of her is currently holding Nick captive.
