Page 7 of Hotshot

We’d dated so long that we’d become a habit, a catch phrase since high school…Den and MK, MK and Den. But we’d officiallybroken up at Thanksgiving…and no one knew. There were reasons for that, and someday they wouldn’t seem important. For now, it was easier to let people think what they wanted.

Mary-Kate and I were solid. That was all that mattered.

“I do,” she said softly. “I’m seeing someone.”

Oh.

I accidentally tightened my seat belt like a vise around my chest in my haste to face her. “Oh. Okay, that’s cool.”

MK offered a wan smile. “It’s not serious, Den. He lives in Burlington and it’s totally new, nothing to get excited about. But it feels weird to talk about dating other people with you.”

I waited for Mary-Kate to meet my gaze in the dark, then reached across the console and brushed a strand of hair from her troubled eyes. “Yeah. I get that.”

She licked her lips. “I won’t fuck this up for you. We had a deal, and I won’t let you down.”

My brain was buzzing with alcohol, but I did my best to push through the fog and give her my most sincere, no-nonsense look. “Forget about the deal and?—”

“No, this is your rookie year, and you’re in the spotlight. This is important. I don’t want you to worry about distractions.”

“Well, if a reporter takes a picture of my girlfriend kissing another guy, that’ll be a distraction,” I pointed out.

“Understood, but we’re friends and I like him, that’s all. You and I said we’d be honest, and this is me being honest.”

I wished I could be honest too. I wished I could tell her that I was bi and that lately, I couldn’t stop thinking about being with a guy. But what was the point? It was never going to happen.

Not now anyway.

I regarded her in the semidark. There were a handful of people whose happiness I truly cared about, and MK was one of them. I hated the idea that I’d hurt her and that she might regret me. But she seemed fondly exasperated…not sad.

“Have I told you I think you’re pretty fucking cool?” I rasped, pinching her chin.

She swatted my wrist and grinned, all traces of melancholy gone. “Have I told you I’m proud of you, Hotshot?”

I slumped in my seat and put my hands over my ears like a grouchy toddler. “Ugh. Stop.”

“Why? What’s wrong with being hot and making all the shots?” she teased, cranking the defrost settings to clear the windows.

“I’m feeling bullied, and you know what…I’m outta here.”

MK snickered, her gaze darting my way as I opened the door. “Oh, you’re serious.”

“No, I’m messin’ with you.” And I was. Except now I didn’t want to go home. Yeah, I was bombed, but the night was young and our friends were at the bar. So was the cowboy. I could still get that selfie for the team. “But…I’m gonna stay and hang out with the guys for a while. Take my ride.”

She smiled. “All right. I’ll park it at my house, so you’ll have to see me tomorrow before you leave for the airport.”

“Deal.” I leaned over to kiss her cheek. “No joyriding.”

“Do you actually think this thing goes over forty miles per hour?”

I scowled. “It goes at least fifty.”

“Sure it does,” she drawled sarcastically. “It’s a real speed demon. Love you, Den. Be good.”

“Love you, too.”

I watched the red taillights of my Bronco fade, my hands buried deep in my pockets, inhaling the frosty night and exhaling in a rush. The plume of steam mesmerized me. So I did it again, freeing one hand to trace a finger through my breath.

Damn. Iwasreally drunk. Maybe I should have gone with MK and?—