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He held out his hand. “I’m Vance, this is my very rude, very taken friend, Jed.”
“Nice,” Jed muttered.
“I’m telling Peyton you said that.”
“You sort of relish the fact that you’re one of the last single people in our group, buddy.”
“Right now I do.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. And when Vance lifted his aviators and tucked them into his curls, she had to bite back a little sigh. It would have been a small one, but possibly a little gusty. He had very nice eyes. Honey gold with a dark ring around the iris.
And for the umpteenth time, she cursed the timing. Just because her date learned to excel at being rude, it didn’t mean she had to have the same goals and aspirations.
Utterly unfair.
Two
Vance O’Neal couldn’t believeit. Lady Luck was either on his side, or she was flashing a double middle finger at him. The moment he’d seen this girl on the stairs he’d wanted nothing more than to get her name, number, and ask her what she was doing for the next month or so. Talk about a fist to the solar plexus.
The first time he’d felt alive in weeks and she was unavailable. What she was doing with that douchebag he didn’t know, but he figured he’d just have to put her out of his mind.
And now, here she was.
He was a big believer in fate. It had a hand in a lot of the little moments that shaped his life. From the app he’d created and sold, to the other handful of startups he’d gotten involved in for the last three years, all of it had been a right place, right time scenario. He had to believe this woman was another one.
He didn’t want to let her hand go. Elegant fingers flashing in gold and diamonds felt so small in his hand that he gentled his shake. She came back with a firm one of her own. “Presley.”
He grinned.
“Don’t say it.”
Vance laughed. “How many different Elvis songs have you been serenaded with?”
“Let’s just say if you sing, ‘Love Me Tender,’ you might get a black eye for your trouble.”
Delighted, he sat back in his chair and was about to try a witty remark when the announcer’s voice blasted out of the speakers. Everyone in the stands rose to their feet and screamed.
Well, except for her companion. Dipshit was still on his phone.
The first home game was against Boston and the crowd was divided and rambunctious. Vance slid his shades back down on his face as Presley stood and gave a war cry that would make any fan proud.
He leaned toward her. “Do you bleed orange or maroon and gold?”
“I always bleed orange.”
Vance laughed and tapped his ears. “Maybe a little gold.” She dripped with gold. At her ears with sassy hoops that tangled with her long blond curls, to the triple chains that graced her elegant throat, and finally the fingers of her hands. She was tanned and fresh and ridiculously gorgeous, but he’d been around beautiful women most of his life.
Originally because he was friends with a bunch of former and current players. Football and attractive girls seemed to go hand in hand. Secondly because of his money. Being a millionaire at twenty-three was a danger he knew all too well. He’d gone down the road of parties and bad choices for a few years before he’d gotten his act together.
No, this girl was more than just pretty. There was a light behind her rain-soaked blue eyes. And that was hard to resist, regardless of the fact that she had a guy sitting on the other side of her. Even if the guy was a rude bastard.
She cheered with the crowd, drew people to her with her wide smile and irresistible laughter. Twenty minutes into the game, he couldn’t have told anyone about the plays on the field.
What he did know was that Presley had a husky laugh that made him glance at her every time. She kept trying to engage her date in conversation and each time the guy held up a finger to her, Vance had to stop himself from reaching across the both of them and snapping it off.
In the last ten minutes of the second quarter, she gave up trying. Finally crossed her legs and made herself so small—which was quite the feat, she had a helluva pair of legs—and simply watched the game. Her sweet smile fading into a blank mask of frustration.
Jed dug his elbow into his ribs. “If you don’t stop staring at the hot blond and pay attention to the game, I’m going to put the entire tab for the seven of us on your bill.”
