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I shove his shoulder. “Shut up. It’s not like that.”
They’re like a bunch of teenagers as they take turns busting my balls.
“Did you meet her through OneDate?” This comes from Vedant, who boasts a sly smile.
Technically, we didn’t meet on the app, but—
“Yes,” I say. “But I haven’t exactly had a chance to tell her what I do, so keep it quiet.”
“Yo. Is that her?” Aakesh interrupts.
A woman trots up the sandy hill leading up to the court, getting just close enough that I can make out the curvy form I held against me last night.
I mean to respond, but I’m awestruck by the sight of what appears to be a sheer dress covering a hot pink bikini. The wispy thing does very little to keep her curvaceous body from searing itself into my imagination.
A foreign sensation burns my gut when I peel my eyes from her to see the guys gawking.
Two refs have started setting up for our game as the previous players leave the court.
“Quit fucking staring and let’s go,” I tell them.
Kate’s brilliant smile damn near knocks me over. “Hey, y’all. So sorry I’m late. The bus stop was insanely crowded, and I ended up having to wait for the next one.”
She watches me fold my arms across my chest.
I pretend like I don’t notice.
“Glad you could make it,” I say.
Kate’s being flocked before she can utter another word.
“I’m Vedant, Damon’s boss,” he says with a melodic accent, and promptly places a kiss on the back side of her hand.
Bryce, Walter, and Aakesh wait eagerly for their turns to introduce themselves.
She giggles, the sound sweet and warm. “Kate.”
Her bag hits the sand with a quiet thud, and I try not to notice the subtle slide of her gaze over each male. A sensation I can’t name thunders awake inside me, and try as I may, I struggle to shove it back down.
I want those keen eyes on me and only me.
“Where ya from, Kate?” Bryce asks, towering over her. The hulking man is built like an ox.
Walter and Bryce strip off their shirts as Vedant crosses under the net to check in with the opposing team.
“Georgia,” she says, quickly following their lead and exposing her body to my greedy gaze. “Alpharetta, actually.”
Fucking. Hell.
I press the beer bottle growing warm in my palm to my lips and drain the entire thing.
“Shoot.” Bryce whistles, his Texas twang growing thick. “Lots of fancy folk around that area.”
It’s then I notice her discarded Gucci flip-flops and the equally expensive sunglasses resting on the crown of her head.
“Yeah, you could say that again,” she says, but her voice wavers a touch.
Vedant shirks his shirt off as he heads back our way. “Are we ready to start?”
