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That’s all right. She’s not so bad, although she can be a little peppy for my taste.
But when we walked in and saw how damn busy Offside was, I nearly bailed on the spot.
“Come on.” Wily dragged me inside, and now I’m perched against the bar, staring at the dance floor.
It’s filled with hotties, Teah being one of them. Her hair is flying, her arms raised in the air as she laughs and moves with her sorority girls. Apparently, one of their housemates is onstage singing. It’s a debut performance for this college band, which is why the Sig Be sisters are out in force, and probably why tonight is busier than usual.
I swivel away from the scene and rest against the bar, noticing Grady frowning past me, watching his girl with an uncharacteristic pout.
My eyebrows bunch, and I glance from him back to the dance floor.
Teah’s waving at him, beckoning him with a flick of her wrist.
He shakes his head, and she tries one more time before rolling her eyes and turning away.
I snicker. “Go dance with your girl, man.”
“I can’t. My calf is still sore after Saturday’s game. PT says I have to rest up for the week.” As if to prove his point, he sits on a recently vacated stool.
“I’ll go dance with her.” Wily downs his beer in two seconds flat, then hits the floor and is quickly surrounded by women as they cheer and flock around him.
Typical. He can’t even move that well, but they don’t seem to care. They’re not looking for some kind of dancing king—they just like that he’s a hot football player with muscles to spare and a charming smile.
Prick.I grin.
Grady’s frown deepens, and I nudge him with a soft laugh. “You should be grateful he’s out there. He’ll make sure the guys keep their hands to themselves.”
“Yeah, if he can reach her in time. He’s fucking surrounded.”
I shrug. “You know Wily.”
Grady clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he nurses his beer like some sad old man.
For fuck’s sake.
This is not the night I pictured when I agreed to come out with him.
Maybe I am in the mood for some car sex.
No, man. You’re not.
Shit. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Spinning back around, I rest my elbows on the bar and survey the room. I should be fucking grateful to be out here. Sienna and Zoey still haven’t moved out. Zander said it’d be a couple nights, but it’s turned into fucking weeks. I’ve tried to talk to the guy about it, but he refuses to see reason, so now I’m staying away from the place as much as possible. My own fucking home and I’m not comfortable there anymore. It’s just wrong.
Taking another swig of beer, I look around the room again. There’s a football game on one TV screen and a hockey game on another. I should just order another beer and watch that. There’s a group of guys at the round table to my left who seem pretty invested in the Raiders vs. Chiefs game. Maybe I should go hang with them.
Or I could keep slugging beers with Grady, maybe order some shots and get completely trashed. There’s definitely appeal in that. Although Coach Jones will kick my ass if I’ve got a hangover tomorrow.
Who gives a fuck? Do what you want!
A girl with big brown eyes and a teasing smile flits through my head. I try to cut the image off before it can really form. I don’t want to think about Nylah Jones or how I ran away from her the other day without even a goodbye.
It was the right thing to do.
I hopefully put her off me a little. I don’t need her dogging my brain with her cute comebacks and playful winks.
Shit, I need to find me a distraction. Staring down the bar, I spot a brunette giving me some pretty decent “fuck me” eyes. It isn’t the chick from the car last week, so maybe I’m game.