“Not a chance, Savy. With every woman in New York City falling on her knees for him? What guy in his right mind would pass that up?” Cash slaps me lightly on the back.
“Plus,” Parker says, nodding between Jackson and me, “Knox’d never abandon us.”
Jackson grins. “Three amigos to the end.”
“Cheers to that.”
I look down at the crowd of hot women in the bar below us. I may be tired of baseball groupies and fangirls, but maybe I’ll meet a girl tonight who is a football fan and has no idea who Cooper Knox is.
I’ve got my friends, good tequila, and nothing but good times ahead tonight.
Yeah, it’s good to be home.
CHAPTER TWO
Shelby
I hate this damn town.
I try to ignore my phone, but I check it again for what feels like the millionth time. But there’s not a damn thing there.
Nada.
Nothing.
What a way to kick off the New Year. Waiting for a text.
The crowd parts and Ruby saunters through, ignoring the guys drooling at her long red hair and legs for days. She thrusts a shot into my hand and another into Avery’s, who’s been nice enough not to comment on the fact that I’ve been dogging my phone all evening.
“To the end of a year,” Ruby says, holding her glass up in a toast. “May the next bring more good things wrapped in large packages.” She slings the shot back. Avery shoots me a side look and then downs hers as well. I manage a weak smile that I hope Ruby takes for enthusiasm and down the hatch the whiskey goes. The alcohol stings but serves its purpose by making me forget my phone for exactly two seconds.
Then I check it again.
Come on, Tom. We had such good first two dates. Don’t leave me hanging.
“Out with it, woman, who should be blowing up your phone?” Ruby says.
“No one,” I lie, but Avery rolls her eyes.
“You haven’t put your phone down all night,” she says. “And you don’t want to hang out with everyone else.”
“Everyone else, specifically meaning your brother,” Ruby chimes in.
“When do you avoid Jackson?” asks Avery.
“When there’s a guy involved,” Ruby answers for me. “A guy who Jackson wouldn’t approve of.”
“Meaning every guy,” I grumble, glancing back down at my phone. Ruby and Avery nod in sympathy. When it comes to acquiring information from me, my friends are pros, working as a team to get me to crack. “This guy, Tom,” I begin but then stop. I wonder if it’s even worth describing how we met. As the minutes tick by, it’s becoming all too clear that he is going to be just another entry in a long list of guys who don’t make it past date three. As a matter of fact, every guy I’ve dated is on that list.
My phone dings and I pounce on it. It’s only a text message.
WON’T MAKE IT.
Nothing more. Just that. Won’t—not can’t. Won’t, because he probably has something better to do. Avery leans over my shoulder and reads the message.
“Douchebag,” she says, and both Ruby and I stare at her in surprise. I’ve never heard her use that kind of language. Tom’s special brand of being a jerk apparently merits the special occasion.
“Oh please, you both know I’m not so lily white.”
Ruby squeezes Avery tightly anyway. “Avery, I didn’t know you cursed in public. I’m so proud.”
“For fuck’s sake let me go,” Avery says through a fit of giggles. Ever since I met them, it’s been Avery playing the good angel with Ruby as the devil. Somewhere in the years of their bantering on my shoulders, they became my best friends.
“Twice in one evening, someone buy her a drink,” Ruby says, eyeing every available guy in our vicinity. Avery rolls her eyes, but the smile playing at her lips suggests she’s completely on board with Ruby’s plan.
I’m not the only one with a bad run of dates lately.
My phone buzzes again and I jump for it, hoping it’s an apology from Tom. To my disappointment, it’s only a Google Alert I set up for work with an early report of the team’s New Year’s revelry. Apparently the Falcons are having a very good time. They had better stay out of trouble tonight. As their deputy PR agent, the last thing I want to do at midnight is head off the press.
Just as I’m about to slide my phone back into my purse, it goes off again. Tom’s follow-up is one word. No explanation, no justification. Not even an emoji.
SORRY
“That’s it?” Ruby asks, her voice laced with the venom that she reserves only for the Yankees and men who overstay their welcome. She drops the phone to the table and I grab it.
“He couldn’t call? Or at least write a text that’s longer than five words? Damn, the assholery is strong with that one.” Ruby’s raging now and she won’t stop until someone puts a roadblock in front of her.