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“Just to be clear, there is no way in hell I’m going celibate. Need I remind you about a certain cowgirl I enjoyed last Friday?” His eyebrows rise and I shake my head, struggling to fight off my grin.
I’m still not sure if that night was a good idea. Casey swaggering into Hockey House after a quick fuck in the back seat of this chick’s car lead to some weird ass conversations that will never be repeated outside of Hockey House. I now know how each of my bros lost their V-cards and I’m still not sure if I want to be privy to that shit.
Casey nudges me with his elbow. “It’s the first night you’ve joined us since the big loss, and I was trying to be considerate. You’ve been in a shitty mood the last couple days, and I don’t want to rub it in your face that no one’s allowed to play with your wiener for the next month.”
“It’s down to three weeks now.” Liam slaps me on the shoulder, obviously trying to encourage me.
I grunt, painting a line in the condensation of my beer bottle. I’m not grumpy because of losing the bet. Well, okay, I am… but I’m more pissed off with myself for the way it affected my conversation with Mikayla.
We were having a pretty decent time until she ran her finger down my hand and made my cock spring to attention. I don’t think she noticed, because I was too busy telling her how I’m not available to feed her free food.
Shit!
The way she sprang out of her chair and practically ran out of the coffee shop. I tried to smooth things over, but it’s not like I could tell her the truth, so I just had to act like I hadn’t been the world’s biggest asshole.
I haven’t stopped feeling bad about it since. All week it’s been bugging me, but I can’t even seek her out to apologize because then I’m putting myself right back in the same position as before.
Hanging out with her was way more fun than I thought it’d be. She’s so easy to tease. She takes it like a champ. I fight a grin, picturing her cheesy smile as she flipped me off and told me to have a good day.
But my smile disappears the second I relive that look on her face after I rejected her. Shit, we’d just been talking deep, and then I went and fucked it all up. I don’t usually share about my mom with people, but it naturally progressed to that place, and when she agreed that my mom watches me play, I could have jumped right into those blue-gray eyes of hers. They held depth… understanding. And that’s kind of rare.
It makes me want to get to know her more.
But then the little general got other ideas, and I had to cut her off.
I had to?—
My breath catches, my arm freezing midair as I pause in taking another swig of beer and watch her walk through the door.
I blink, making sure I’m not hallucinating.
Nope. She’s still there.
Damn, she looks good. She’s gone and dolled herself up again, even more extreme than she did the other day. The ass-hugging jeans she’s painted on show off her shape, and fuck it, there goes my dick again.
I scowl and check out the rest of her, my eyes skimming down to the heels she’s sporting. Doesn’t seem like her, and my suspicion is confirmed when she takes a step forward and her ankle turns.
She winces, then scowls down at her feet before looking at the girls around her.
Sorority babes.
“Here come the slut bags,” Asher mutters, tipping his head toward the group I just happen to be ogling.
“That is so the wrong term for them.” Liam laughs, shaking his head. “Sig Be girls are anything but slutty. Have you ever tried to flirt with any of them? They’re like ice queens.”
“Unless they get drunk.” Casey laughs. “Remember that party last year? Shit, I don’t even remember her name, but she was all over me. Damn, she was fine. What was her name again?” He goes all contemplative while he scours his memory banks, and my eyes are drawn back to the huddle.
They move to a table near the bar, Mikayla jumping up onto a stool. Her hoop earrings bang against her cheeks, and she adjusts them with a little wince before the girl opposite her says something.
I can’t lip read, so I have no idea what was said, but Mikayla’s shoulders slump as she tucks her hands under her thighs and swings her short legs back and forth.
My lips rise at the edges as I watch her. Yeah, she’d accuse me of being a creepy stalker, but it’s kind of fun studying her from afar. I’m learning a lot.
Like the fact that she doesn’t order alcohol, which means she either doesn’t like it or doesn’t have a fake ID… or maybe those Sig Be girls just won’t let her. She sips on a root beer, her eyes tracking to the big-screen TVs on her left.
The girls around her are chatting and giggling, but Mikayla’s not even paying attention. She’s too busy watching the Broncos/Seahawks game. Her body jerks, a smile cresting over her face as she gives the air a little pump.
Glancing at the screen, I spot the Broncos’ wide receiver doing a victory dance in the end zone.
