It was the equivalent of an atomic bomb going off in my personal life. Everyone stared at us, wide-eyed, but no one said a word. We could have heard a puck drop fifty feet away.
Jillian and Amelia looked like they’d seen a ghost. Derek eyed Chase warily, which wasn’t totally unwarranted given his reputation. And Luke clenched his jaw, his face turning redder than the Falcons’ home jersey. Sophie looked up at him questioningly, but his eyes were laser focused on us.
Not even on us. On Chase.
Chase flashed Luke an easy grin and gave him a nod. On its face, it looked cordial, but in reality, the smile was more smug than friendly, and it was peak passive aggressive. It was a “what are you gonna do about it?” smile. This, of course, had the intended effect. Luke glowered at him, his expression murderous, but he didn’t speak. Really, what could he say?
Chase inclined his head to the doors. “Let’s go.”
“Uh, sure.” I glanced back over at Amelia and Jillian, already dreading the interrogation I would surely receive later. “I’ll see you at home.”
“Okay,” they echoed in unison, heads cocked and voices lilting in confusion.
They weren’t the only ones who were confused.
I awkwardly waved goodbye to the stunned group of witnesses as Chase steered me away, his arm still draped around my shoulders. My brain was having a hard time getting up to speed. It didn’t help that I was close enough to get a contact high from his delicious cologne.
He was still touching me…and I didn’t completely hate it.
Even though I still hated him. Obviously.
Chase wordlessly maneuvered me back through the crowded concourse and over to the side exit that led to the players’ parking area.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, stealing a glance at him once we were out of sight of my friends.
“Rescuing you, apparently.”
“I don’t need to be rescued.”
He chuckled, low and deep. “You sure about that?”
OceanofPDF.com
CHAPTER 10
OceanofPDF.com
AS A FRIEND
Chase
“What the hell, Carter?” Bailey pulled away from me and came to a stop on the sidewalk outside the arena. Her eyes flashed with anger. “Where are you taking me?”
Late afternoon sun glinted off her dark blond hair, bringing out the green and gold in her hazel eyes. Unlike most girls I met at nightclubs, she was even more attractive in a normal, everyday setting, free of all the makeup and tight clothing. And like when we first met at XS last weekend, she had reverted back to hostile mode.
Just my luck: one of the hottest chicks I’d ever met hated my guts. Or was she hot because she hated me? Maybe it was a bit of both.
I didn’t want to examine that too closely.
But it was probably both.
“To my truck.” I pointed with my keys to the corner of the parking lot, where my black F-150 was parked several rows down.
“And then what?” She unzipped her black puffy jacket and slid it off to reveal a white short-sleeved V-neck underneath. It dipped down in the front, showing the slightest hint of her round, perky cleavage. But I managed to keep my eyes above shoulder level. Mostly.
“Whatever you want.”
“I don’t even like you,” she said.
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.” Bailey drew in a breath and paused, watching me.
I said nothing. Just watched her back and waited her out.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she let out a defeated sigh. “Fine.”
I’d received warmer receptions from women, to say the least.
We weaved through the parking lot at a pace that was, fortunately, much faster than last weekend’s drunken excursion. I always ran hot after games from the physical exertion and metabolic boost that followed. Combined with the unseasonably warm fall weather and my dark suit pants, I was running at a thousand degrees. I loosened my tie as we walked and slipped it off, followed by my suit jacket. I hated the fucking dress code for games. What was the point?
“Are you stripping now?” Bailey asked dryly.
“I can if you’d like.” I unbuttoned my collar and rolled my sleeves up to my forearms. I was roasting. Was I nervous or something? What was going on? “But then you’d have to pay me, and I don’t come cheap.”
“That’s not what I hear.”
Bailey came to a sudden stop in front of my truck instead of getting in. She looked at me, to the vehicle, then back at me. Her expression hardened.
“I changed my mind,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You’re telling me you want to go back inside?”
“Well, I can’t now. You blew up my life.”
Really? Seemed to me like her life blew up, oh, approximately last Friday. It had just been raining shrapnel ever since. But it was easier to blame me, I supposed.
“I think you’re overstating things here.”
“Not even a little. Everyone is going to be pissed at me.”
I snorted. “For what? Moving on? Morrison sure did. Though it was a downgrade, if you ask me.”
Almost imperceptibly, she flinched. I immediately regretted what I said, even though it was true—that girl Morrison was with had nothing on Bailey. Not even in the same league. But tact wasn’t my strong suit, and she seemed vulnerable in a way I wasn’t used to dealing with.
She straightened her spine, glaring at me. “No, for sleeping with the enemy.”
“I don’t think literal sleeping counts.” I strolled past her and opened the passenger-side door, holding it for her. “Unless this is your way of hinting at something.”
“Definitely not.”
All I wanted was to get inside my truck and blast the air conditioning directly at my face. Stop by home and change into a T-shirt and jeans instead of this ridiculous suit. Then inhale at least three plates of food. I would figure out the rest later.
If her company factored into any of the above, all the better.
Unfortunately, she was hell-bent on arguing with me.
We stood, locked in a standoff, while I cooked under the sun, waiting for her to get in the damn vehicle. My truck chimed, reminding us that the door was still ajar. James might be the only person I’d ever met who was less argumentative while drunk.
Time to de-escalate the situation a bit.
Taking a few steps, I drew closer until she was within arm’s reach. I didn’t actually touch her, but that was the point. “James.” I dropped my voice, keeping it low and smooth.
“What?” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Do you have other plans tonight?”
Her mouth scrunched up. “No.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Everything?” She gestured between us. “You, me, this?”
I ducked my head, catching her eye. “Are you hungry?” It was just a guess, but it was dinnertime and would explain some of her irritability. And I was definitely starving. A massive burger was in order, stat. Maybe two.
As if on cue, her stomach gurgled loudly. Her cheeks flushed pink, which was pretty adorable. She jutted her chin defiantly. “No.”
“Great,” I said, ignoring her reply. “What are you in the mood for?”
She looked down at her black Converse. “I don’t know. Pizza? Burgers? I’m not picky.”
“Let’s swing by my place so I can change, and then we can grab some food. My treat.”
“Okay,” she grumbled, finally climbing into the truck.
After stopping by my place, we ended up at Burger Bar in the trendy brewery district nearby. We ordered their signature boozy milkshakes, burgers, and fries, and somehow, I even talked her into sharing an order of onion rings with me, but I was borderline worried she’d poison them if I wasn’t careful.
“I hope you know I’m not going to sleep with you.” Bailey took a sip of her chocolate-Kahlua milkshake, eyeing me warily from the other side of the booth.
I grabbed an onion ring from the middle of the table and set it on my appetizer plate. “Technically, you already did.”
“If you use that loophole to tell everyone and give them the wrong idea, I will strangle you with hockey tape.”