Maybe she should have dressed up more. Dashed on some perfume or something. Because, damn.
“The ever-elusive Garrett Scott finally shows up,” one of them said, sticking out a hand.
“Surprised to see you here, Trevor,” Garrett said. “Figured you’d be stripped down to your underwear doing another photo shoot for a magazine or a billboard somewhere.”
Now Alicia knew why that guy looked familiar. Trevor Shay’s oh-so-hot body was plastered up . . . everywhere. On billboards, across magazines, on the sides of buses, and in commercials. He had been one hot commodity for the past few years, because he’d been playing football and baseball, and was very good at both of them. He was also a known ladies’ man.
Trevor grinned. “Yeah, well. I took the weekend off to drink beer with you assholes.” Finally noticing Alicia, he said, “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to cuss.”
“It’s all right. I’m Alicia Riley.”
“Trevor Shay. Nice to meet you. So, you’re Garrett’s . . . girlfriend?”
“Therapist,” she corrected.
Trevor lifted a brow. “Therapist? Got Mommy issues, Scott?”
“Ha ha. She’s my physical therapist. She works for the Rivers.”
“Oh, yeah. You fucked up your shoulder because you can’t throw for shit.”
Garrett shook his head. “I’m not even going to dignify that comment with a return insult about how some of us can’t make up our minds about what sports to play when we grow up.”
Trevor grinned. “Yeah, and maybe some of us are so damn good we get to play both.”
Garrett rolled his eyes. “You keep thinking that, buddy. Where’s Drew?”
“He can’t make it,” Trevor said. “He’s got a game tonight. Said to tell everyone to kiss his ass and not talk about him while he’s not here to defend himself.”
“So, that means we’re going to talk about him, right?” Garrett asked.
“You know it,” Gray said, lifting a glass in toast.
Garrett introduced her to a couple of other guys. Alicia was glad she was good at remembering names and faces.
“Make room, dickheads, so we can sit.”
They did, and Alicia slid over in the booth. Garrett leaned over. “I’m sorry, but these guys are all assholes. There’s going to be cursing and name-calling.”
“Yes. Feel free to join in, especially if you have dirt on Garrett,” Gray said.
Alicia laughed. “Oh, no. I plan to just listen. And make mental notes. Maybe write a tell-all book in the future.”
“I like her,” Gray said to Garrett. “She’s a smart-ass like us.”
Alicia just smiled, and when one of the waiters came over—impeccably dressed like the bartenders—she ordered a drink. A soda.
“Oh, come on, Alicia. You’re here to relax and have fun,” Trevor said. “Fun means hard liquor.”
“Hard for me to be clearheaded and take those mental notes if I’m fuzzy with alcohol. Soda it is for me.”
“Buzzkill,” Trevor said. “You being the only woman in the bunch, how are we all going to get you drunk and take advantage of you?”
“You aren’t,” Garrett said, and then ordered a beer.
“I thought you said she worked for the team?”
“She does. Which means hands off, Trevor. I mean it.”
Alicia kind of liked the firmness of his statement, even though she was fully aware Trevor was just kidding and Garrett was only protecting an employee of the Rivers. Not someone who belonged to him.
“Maybe it’s not just a work thing.” Trevor picked up his beer and slanted a look toward Gray and the other guys.
“Maybe it isn’t,” Gray said, tipping his beer toward Trevor. “But if it is, that means Alicia is available. So, are you seeing someone?”
How was she supposed to answer that? “Um . . . no, I’m not.”
Garrett turned to her. “You should run now while you still have a chance. A weekend with these jokers and who knows how you’ll end up.”
“She’ll be in love with me by the end of the weekend,” Trevor said, waggling his brows. “I’m irresistible, you know.”
“Hey. I’m the one with all the money. And the charm,” Gray said, giving Garrett a smug smile. “A couple of days around me and she’ll dump you like toxic waste.”
Alicia couldn’t help but laugh. “Remember, guys, I’m just a therapist. There is no one to dump.”
“Uh-huh.” Trevor tipped his bottle to his lips, his gaze shifting from Alicia to Garrett as he took a long swallow of his beer. “You say that, but I’ve got my eye on you two.”
She lifted her gaze to Garrett. “Help.”
He held up his hands. “What can I say? These morons are my friends.”
But she caught the wink.
This should be a fun—and interesting—weekend.
*