Page 13 of The Wrong Game

Um, I volunteer as tribute.

She’d simply laughed at me when she realized I’d overheard, placing her drink order with me like I was nothing special. And I guess to her, I probably wasn’t. After all, I was just the bartender. I was just some guy taking her order as she listened to her friend go on and on about her need to get laid.

Again, if she’s looking for a volunteer…

But I’d given her space, filled her drink order without much more than a smile and a nod as her friend set her up on a dating app. I noted her dark, exotic features from a distance, wondering if she laid out every day in the sun to get that tan or if it was just her natural hue. I wondered who, if anyone, got to kiss those plump, burgundy lips of hers. And more than anything, I wondered what the hell I could say to her to get her to see me —reallysee me — before she walked out of that bar.

It wasn’t until her friend walked away, until I saw Gemma sitting there all alone, staring at her phone like it might explode in the next second that I knew I had to talk to her.

She was talking football with the other guys at the bar, and call me cliché, but any chick who loves a sport enough to talk the way she was is a turn on. And since it was the sport I had loved my whole life, the one I grew up on, the one that left me more heartbroken than any woman ever had? Well, I was a sucker for it.

But, it was more than just the sport talk.

There was something about her eyes, the vulnerability behind them, the mixture of excitement and absolute fear laced within her irises as she stepped out of her comfort zone. I didn’t know her story, but it was easy to see she hadn’t done this before — the whole dating app thing. And since I hated it as much as the next person in this generation, I wanted to save her from the misery.

So, I told her to date me, instead.

I smiled as a new cloud of smoke escaped my lips, running over our playful conversation. I’d always been quick on my feet when it came to getting a girl in the sack with me, but most girls didn’t fight back. Most girls don’t call me on my shit.

Gemma Mancini had no problem doing just that.

I’d had to try for her, and I had no doubt that if I wanted more than one date with her, I’d have to try even harder tomorrow night.

From what I’d gathered, she was determined to take a new guy to every home game this season. Why, I had no idea. Maybe she didn’t want to date. Maybe, like her friend insinuated, she really did just want to get laid and had no interest in banging the same guy twice.

But I saw it, what her friend didn’t.

Gemma didn’t want some random guy touching her.

She wantedtheguy touching her — the guy who turns her on, the guy who makes her feel safe, and comfortable.

Her red-headed friend might be the type that can fuck with no strings, that is perfectly content having a guy inside her one night and then never speaking to him again.

But Gemma isn’t that girl.

And I intended to prove it.

It sounded crazy, I realized, as I took another pull of my cigar, that I already felt like I knew her. In fact, if I said any of this out loud to anyone, I was sure I’d hear how much of a cocky asshole I was being.

But I’d never had a problem being cocky.

Especially when I knew I was right.

“Hey, think you could swing by a little early on Thursday?” Doc asked me when our cigars were spent, pulling me to the side after Dad had gone back in the house. “I know you work the late shift for the game, but I wanted to talk to you about something.”

I smiled, but something in Doc’s eyes made my stomach sink. He was watching me like whatever it was that he wanted to talk to me about wasn’t good news, and suddenly, I felt my heart beating in my throat.

God, please don’t say you have to let me go.

The bar had been busier than ever, but I knew the strip we sat on down in the South Loop was growing in popularity. Maybe rent was going up. Maybe Doc couldn’t afford to pay me anymore.

Then again, he couldn’t afford to pay me when he first hired me, either.

But he did it anyway.

“Sure, Doc,” I said after a moment, swallowing. “I’ll come in early. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” he said quickly, forcing a worn smile. He clapped me on the back. “We’ll talk more then. For now, you just focus on that girl of yours.”