He took her arm and led her to the pool table. “I heard someone out there booing you. If you don’t want me and the guys to beat the hell out of the haters, you’re staying here until you leave. No one’s touching you. Do you hear me?”
The hard line of his jaw told her he meant it. He was pissed, but he was doing his best to keep his cool. She nodded.
“I take it you and Andy came here to play pool,” he said, turning his back on the crowd taking pictures of them.
“And maybe find Andy a date,” she told him in lowered tones so her brother couldn’t hear.
His brows rose, and they shared a look. “I’ll help him out, Nat. You don’t need to worry about him.”
The air in her lungs froze. Even though he hated crowds and was pissed off about some bystander booing her, he was willing to do this for her. She almost hugged him on the spot.
He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and then turned away from her. “Andy, my man,” he said. “Let’s see if we can scare up some more of Hairy’s delicious potato skins.”
Andy blinked, but Blake was already putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him back out into the crowd.
“Take care of my girl,” Blake called out over his shoulder.
His girl. She looked down at her shoes, feeling off center.
“Old habits are hard to break,” Sam said, appearing by her side. “Come on. You and me can play some darts while Blake runs whatever errand is needed with your brother.”
“Andy’s agreed to start dating again,” she found herself telling him as they walked over to the dart boards on the wall.
“That’s brave of him. I hope he finds the most amazing woman ever.”
More amazing than Kim? The feeling of being off-kilter changed to one of sharp grief. How was Andy supposed to do that?
“Come on,” Sam said, thrusting a set of darts into her suddenly cold hands. “Let’s play.”
She focused on her target and drilled the first dart in the center.
“Bulls-eye,” someone crooned in a booming voice from behind her.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw Grant sauntering over to them.
“She’s one hot mama tonight. You’d better watch yourself, Sam. She might beat you.”
Suddenly, Natalie wanted to beat him. She wanted to rub his nose in defeat after what he’d said to her earlier. She threw her second dart.
“Bulls-eye,” Grant crooned out again.
Logan came over and slung an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “She’s killing you man.”
Sam shoved him. “I haven’t even had a turn yet.”
Her third dart missed the center by a millimeter, but it still gave her twenty points.
“Ohhhh,” someone called out, and she turned to see Jordan heading toward them, her beer in one hand.
“Mr. Cool is going down.” He gave her a high-five and handed her the drink. “Blake is getting your brother a beer, and he’ll make sure he drinks responsibly.”
She snorted with laughter and watched Sam hit one bulls-eye, an eighteen, and a sixteen. Her innate competiveness pushed all thought from her mind as she sipped her beer. In the end, she beat Sam by thirteen points.
He inclined his head toward her like the good sport he was. “Good game, Natalie.”
Schadenfreude must be real because she felt better for having beaten him.
“Anyone else want to play?” she asked, twirling a dart around in one hand as she reached for her Guinness with the other.
Professional athletes couldn’t ignore an outright challenge. Grant cozied up to her. She beat him flat. Jordan stepped forward with that cocky grin of his. She knocked him on his ass. Hunter came forward next with narrowed eyes, falling into game mode, she could tell. He was the best challenger, but she still beat him by three points.
“Boys, we have got to find Natalie another challenger,” Jordan said. “She’s the Queen of Darts tonight.”
So, they thought she was good at darts? Time to show them what she could do at pool. Feeling a bit cocky, she strode up to Logan and pulled his pool stick away from him. She held it out horizontally like it was a samurai sword and wielded it at them.
“Who’s going to play pool with little ol’ me?” she asked with a purr.
The guys all hooted and shouted. Zack twisted his stick until it crossed with hers, the Obi-Wan Kenobi to her Vader.
“Think you can play with the big boys?” the quarterback drawled out.
She shoved their sticks against his chest—or he let her. “I know I can.”
He waggled his brows. “Then let’s do this.”
After racking the balls, she broke at an angle and pocketed two solid balls in one shot. She made two more shots before missing one. Zack took over, and she discovered he wasn’t kidding about his skills.
“Someone is a big boy when it comes to pool,” she commented as he bent over at the waist and sunk a red-striped ball into the right corner pocket.
His mischievous grin had her tapping her finger against her pool stick. She was going to have to play dirty. Which meant lots of bending over. It had always worked on Blake.
Sure enough. It worked on Zack too. Men were so easy.