Eye Candy

“Oomph!”

“Oh my gosh.” Courtney stopped to help her up. She tried. Her heel slipped, and she landed right next to Grace, her elbow decking her in the face. “AH!”

I wasn’t even trying to help. No way. Tequila and my heels: not a good mix, I’d learned, thanks to Courtney.

Heather and Taylor turned around. They were skilled at slinky Halloween costumes with heels. Both of them got the girls up, and no one flashed anybody.

“Are your friends okay?”

A guy materialized beside me, dressed as Batman. He was asking about them, but his eyes were roaming all over me. He licked his lips. “Want a drink?”

Before I could reply, Heather was there. She positioned herself so her back was to him and, in one smooth move, edged him out so he wasn’t even able to see me anymore. She remarked coolly over her shoulder, “Turn the heat down. This is Kade’s woman.”

“What?” He craned his neck around, his eyes narrowing at me, and that’s when I saw the fear creep in. “Shit.” He ran a hand over his head. “You’re Samantha Strattan.” And, as if the whole thing was a nightmare that wouldn’t go away, he ignored Heather’s body language and came right back into the circle. He stuck his hand out. “I’m Steve. Man. That pass Mason caught tonight.” He whistled in appreciation. “It was fucking fantastic. My mouth was on the floor. I didn’t think he could do it. All my buddies were like this.” He pantomimed screaming, and shook his arms in the air. “Seriously. One of the best plays I’ve ever seen. That shit’s going to be replayed on ESPN for weeks.”

Heather fixed him with a glare. “Dude. Really?”

“What?” He blinked a few times in confusion.

“You just hit on her, now you’re hitting on her man?”

He frowned. “I’m not hit—” He thought better of that, shaking his head. “Whatever. You don’t understand. It’s football. I’m a man. Mason Kade is legendary.”

“Mason Kade tends to go nuts when it comes to his woman.”

I tugged at the leather strap on my shoulder. That was kind of a sensitive topic. Last year we’d hit a rough bump. We got over it, but it still made me grimace to hear it. I coughed, linked my elbow with Heather’s, and flashed the guy a smile. “I’ll pass on your comments to Mason. Thank you.” I tugged my bodyguard with me. “But we need drinks.”

His eyes lit up. “I can get you drinks.” And he was raising his hand, calling for a waitress.

“No, no.” I tugged his arm down, still trying to be polite, but I could feel Heather bristling for a fight behind me. “Thank you. Again. We’re good. Independent women and all. We can get our own drinks.”

I began pushing Heather forward.

The guy reached out behind me. “Are you sure? I can give you my Twitter handle. Better yet”—his voice rose as he yelled to be heard over the club’s music—“I’ll tweet at Mason. I’ll let him know I’m watching out for his girl, making sure no one messes with you tonight.”

Mason would hate that.

My smile froze in place, but I waved one last time. “Sounds good. Thank you. I’m sure he’ll retweet you.” I muttered under my breath, “And then he’ll want to block you in person.”

Taylor was waving from the bar. Courtney and Grace were beside her, huddled together like they were warding off a chill. I stepped around another group in costume and heard one of them say, “Hey. Isn’t that Mason Kade’s girlfriend?”

An excited buzz rose, and I cringed. Ignoring them, I pulled Heather with me into a small opening by Taylor and moved quickly to the bar’s edge.

Taylor had overheard. “Do you want to leave?”

No, but . . . I glanced over my shoulder. That whole group was staring right at me. I looked past them and saw Steve talking with another group and pointing toward me. The tequila was starting to wane in my system.

I let out a sigh. “We probably should.”

Mason’s celebrity status was always big. I was used to it in high school—he and Logan ran their school—but he became more famous when he started playing for Cain University, and even more so when he decided to finish his degree. Teams had been anxious to sign him, but no one knew how he’d actually play once he got into the NFL. That uncertainty disappeared after the first game he started. He’d run in three touchdowns, and had continued to dominate most games since.

His status was ridiculous now. I tried to ignore it, keeping my head down and doing my thing, but some nights—like tonight—I couldn’t ignore it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to deal with it. It was just that . . . it was . . . he was my Mason, not theirs. The small modicum of privacy and normalcy we’d had before was gone now.

“I’m on it.” Taylor waved the bartender away when he brought over a bunch of drinks. “We’re leaving.”

“No.” Courtney pulled out some cash and tossed it on the counter. “He already poured them. Let’s drink these quick, then have Jason take us somewhere else.”

A new plan was hatched.

We downed our drinks and left, and were waiting on the curb for Taylor’s friend Jason to come back. He’d opted not to join us inside, but he was coming back. She checked her phone after ten minutes, then sent off a text asking if he was close. A couple minutes passed without a response.

She looked at me. “He always responds. His phone is hooked up to his car.” She texted him again.

There’d been a line outside already, but after we came out, more and more people followed us. A few who wanted to smoke, then their friends, then their friends. I heard the conversations pick up, and glanced over my shoulder.

Yep. Good ol’ Steve was out there too, pretending to smoke. His eyes were on me, and when he saw me look, he lifted his hand in a wave. “Hey! You guys taking off?”

A growl erupted from Heather. She rounded on him. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Wai—” Too late. I reached for her, but she was already marching over to him.

Everyone tensed. Heather was formidable, even when she was laid-back and easy-breezy. She usually had a drawl ready, matched with a sultry and sexy grin. Nothing really ruffled her feathers. This Heather wasn’t normal, and even I gulped to see her walk over to him. I felt like I’d gotten a glimpse of a black widow moving in for the kill.

Courtney’s hand touched my arm. I looked over—her eyes were glued to Heather’s back, and she gulped too. She was pale.

Grace’s hands were clasped in front of her, pulled up to her chest. Her eyes were wide. She bit down on her lip.

I didn’t look at Taylor. I already knew she was worried.

“Hey!” Heather snapped at him.

He had been watching me, but jerked his gaze to her. His spine straightened and his shoulders rolled back. His group of friends parted for her and she strolled in, stopping right in front of him. Her hands found her hips and she struck a defiant pose. “What is your problem?”

“Wh—huh?”

“You think she wants to deal with you?”