Page 9

CARSON

Offside is lit for a Tuesday night. I’m surprised it’s so busy.

Actually, I’m more annoyed that it’s so busy.

I came down here to chill with my buddies for a minute.

You know, procrastinate on my assignments for another hour or so…

and try to stay out of the house, thanks to Zander’s girlfriend and kid. I mean, what the actual fuck!

I can’t even chill in my own house.

It’s not right.

So I’m out here, restless and antsy.

I’m not really in the mood for any more car sex, but the idea of downing a few beers with Grady and Wily was appealing enough. Which is why I said yes when they invited me.

And then, of course, Grady told me Teah would be there.

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.

We could fuck in the bathroom… or there’s that little alley out back, which I’ve used in the past.

Her eyes heat like she knows what I’m thinking and I glance away, quickly finishing my beer before making my move.

And that’s when I see the one person on this planet who could stop me in a heartbeat.

She’s a brown-eyed troublemaker who is determined to screw me over without even knowing it.

Are you fucking kidding?

Weeks of never seeing her, and now she’s everywhere.

I should be pissed. That’s what I want to be.

I’m trying to avoid this chick, and now she’s standing at the pool table with some dickhead, laughing as she lines up her next shot and nails it.

The guy puts on a show of being gutted that she’s beating him, but it’s just some lame flirt tactic.

He’s probably putting in the work so he can get into her pants later.

Okay, that is really pissing me off.

Seeing her kind of makes me feel… I don’t know what the fuck it is, but I like it—and that is dangerous.

I spin away, my leg starting to twitch as I make an effort to ignore her.

But I can’t fucking do it.

Grady’s beside me, scrolling through his phone. I pull out mine, figuring that’s a great distraction, but before I can even unlock the screen, my traitorous eyes glance toward that pool table again, and thank fuck they did.

Nylah’s eyeing up the table, figuring out her next shot, and Mr. Flirty is stepping it up a notch. His hand brushes down her arm. She smiles, shrugging him off.

Get the fucking hint, asshole.

But he doesn’t. He leans in, pointing over her shoulder like he’s trying to help her analyze angles, but it’s just an excuse to press his body against hers.

Her smile dims slightly and she steps away from him, moving around the table to take the shot from a different angle.

And he fucking follows her.

She’s now bending over the table, about to take her shot, when the guy who obviously doesn’t value his life decides to palm her ass.

Slamming my beer bottle down, I ping straight with a growl at the same time Nylah shoots up and turns to glare at the guy. Pushing him back with a hand to his chest, she says something I can’t hear.

The guy laughs and moves in to rest his hands on her hips, and she shoves him back again. I’m already walking toward her, my eyes zoned in on this scene as she drops the pool cue on the table and tries to leave. But he won’t fucking let her.

Big mistake, dickhead.