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“We already got a table,” I inform him.
Predictably, his smile only grows. In my experience, men love the chase. And I’m a really fast runner. “That’s not why I was inviting you.”
I’d smile if I didn’t think it would encourage him. “We’re good.”
“If you change your mind…” He nods toward the same table, as if I might have forgotten where he is sitting in the past ten seconds.
I nod once to acknowledge I do in fact recall the location he just shared with me.
Natalie turns to me as soon as he saunters off. “Damn, he was hot.”
“He was?” I reply, genuinely surprised. I barely remember what he looked like.
Natalie gives me a weird look. “Yeah, he was.”
I shrug. “Not my type, I guess.”
She makes a small sound of incredulity. “You’re hard to please, then.”
Uninvited, blue eyes and chiseled cheekbones flash before my eyes. A face women everywhere lust after.
Not that hard to please.
CHAPTER FIVE
I definitely don’t improve anyone’s opinion of me when I lead six tipsy strangers into the Scholenberg house. Ellie’s not around, so I don’t have a single ally.
“Stay here,” I instruct the group when we enter the living room. “I’m just going to change real quick.”
I rush toward the stairs, passing Sydney, the fittingly named Australian who’s scrolling through her phone on the couch.
Another girl blocks the first step. “Seriously?” Olivia asks. She’s Norwegian. Maybe Swedish? We’ve yet to step on the field together, but she’s preemptively taken an aggressive stance, glaring at me every chance she gets.
“We won’t be here long,” I assure her.
“Meaning you’re going out.”
“Yes.”
She sniffs disdainfully. “Interesting training routine you have.”
My temper flares at the absurdity of someone accusing me of not training hard enough. “Tomorrow is Sunday, also known as our day off. And we’ll see what you have to say about my training routine next week.” I brush past her, heading into my room. I change in record time, swap my cross-body bag for a clutch, and hurry back downstairs.
Natalie lets out a long wolf-whistle when I appear.
“Damnit, we should have made you come in your T-shirt and shorts,” London says from the couch, giggling as she surveys the dress and leather jacket I changed into. “How do you manage to just look like that?”
I roll my eyes. “Get up. Let’s go.”
Our next stop is the hotel they’re all staying at. The exterior blends with the local architecture, but as soon as we enter, I feel as though I’ve stepped back into the States. There’s the same generic carpeting and bland art as every hotel I’ve ever stayed in.
The girls have adjoining rooms with twin beds and cots set up. I don’t ask who’s getting stuck with the cots, but pity whoever the two are when I take a seat on one. They’re just as uncomfortable as one would expect sitting on a canvas-and-wood construction to be. At least they’re free of whatever questionable fluids are preserved in the comforters covering the beds.
Natalie and the rest of the girls packed like they’re staying for a week instead of one night. I’m definitely guilty of traveling with twice the amount I need, but I lose patience after the fourth outfit Natalie parades around in, especially since it’s the same short-skirt-silky-tank-top combo as the last three outfits.
Emma calls halfway through the fashion show.
“Hello?” I answer grumpily.
