Chapter Eight Cash
Chapter Eight
Cash
“Nice shirt, Wyatt,” the purple-haired girl said with a smirk.
“You know you love it,” Bax said, smiling as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his side.
She stood on her toes and whispered something in his ear. Based on the way the temperature rose about ten degrees around us, Bax’s girl wasn’t only going to let him get away with that shirt, she was going to take him up on it as well.
“Hello, Hotshot,” the curly-haired girl said as she stepped into Callahan.
“Hello, Island Girl.”
The scorching-hot look the two of them shared as he wrapped his arms around her increased the temperature another ten degrees, forcing me to down about half my beer to cool off.
Then my gaze strayed to the blonde, and I almost choked on my drink.
With those snappy hazel eyes staring back at me, I didn’t have to guess.
My mystery woman had the heart-shaped face of an angel.
The delicate light brown wings of her eyebrows rose slightly as she gazed at me.
In the late afternoon sunlight, I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I detected a slight pink staining her high cheekbones.
The sensation of her full pink lips pressed to mine ghosted over my mouth, and I had to stop myself from taking a step toward her.
With a mental shake, I directed my attention to Bax. “Introductions?”
“Sorry. I forgot how little time you’ve spent at Stromboli’s this semester.” The censure in his tone told me he hadn’t forgotten at all.
I’d spent my time in class, studying, and working my way onto the team with impromptu practices after weight training and at actual practices. That hadn’t left much time for hanging out in bars.
“This is my girlfriend, Piper Maxwell.”
“Cash Donovan.” I extended my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“This is my lady, Jamaica Winslow,” Callahan added.
I shook her hand. “You two seem kinda classy to be hanging out with this riffraff.”
“Someone has to civilize them,” Piper said with a grin in the direction of Bax’s T-shirt.
With a sage nod, I said, “You are brave women.”
“You have no idea.” A hint of steel edged Callahan’s playful tone.
Turning to my mystery lady at last, I asked, “What’s your name?”
She couldn’t miss the challenge in my question. Nor could she avoid it since everyone’s eyes were on us with no masks to hide behind.
Extending her hand to me, she said, “Saylor Davis. Nice to meet you, Cash.”
The fine whiskey of her alto voice washed over me and heat traveled up my arm and through my body as I held her hand for several seconds longer than polite. My brow went up when she didn’t try to pull away, and I grinned.
“Dalton says in order for us to help the SCRs win this tournament, we have to team up with them. Apparently, little sisters to the house count.” I let my gaze drop to the SCR insignia on her shirt. “May I partner up with you?”
With a tilt of her head, she eyed me in my old concert T-shirt and cargo shorts. “I’m already com—”
Piper cut her off. “Don’t worry about pairing up with me, girlfriend. I’m happy to share you with Cash.” She snuggled closer to Bax, mischief gleaming in her eyes. “Gives me more opportunity to cheer for Wyatt.”
“Piper.” Saylor dragged her friend’s name out for about a minute.
“Seriously. My cornhole game is a handicap to the house anyway,” Piper said. “Bet Cash will be all kinds of help for the cause.” She slid me a private wink, which I returned with a slight upturn at the corner of my mouth.
Good to know that when it came to my mystery lady—Saylor—I had someone in my corner. Someone who wasn’t one of my tight-lipped future roommates.
I lifted my glass in her direction and took a drink. “Sweet. Glad that’s settled.”
The rest of the group watched our exchange like spectators at a ping-pong match.
Remembering my manners, I said, “You probably need a beverage before this event gets serious, yeah?” I offered her my elbow. “Let me buy you a drink.”
Saylor gifted me a long-suffering glare. “The drinks are on the house—literally.”
Grinning, I said, “I know. How convenient, since I’m empty and you don’t have one yet.” I stuck my elbow out more and waggled my brows. “We should remedy our situation pronto, don’tcha think?”
Blowing out a breath, she caved and took my proffered arm, but her actions said she was only doing it because we had an audience.
“So, Saylor Davis, we meet again—with names this time,” I said as we walked up the sidewalk toward the deck. “Pretty name. I like it a lot more than Mystery Lady.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Mystery Lady?”
“Since you gave me nothing else besides the hottest kiss of my life, that’s all I had.”
Some of the tension left her hand holding my elbow. “The hottest kiss of your life, huh?” A tiny smile tugged at the corner of her luscious lips.
“Damn straight. Thinking about it has kept me up more than one night since that party.”
I didn’t have a clue about this girl, so my admission was a giant risk. But something told me I had no chance with her at all if I didn’t take it.
Her narrowed amber eyes deepened to brown. “Uh-huh. So why didn’t you reach out before now?”
“You wouldn’t give me your name, remember? And your frat brothers take their loyalty pretty fucking seriously. They were no help whatsoever.” I held her eyes with mine. “Trust me. If I’d had a name, I would have made damn sure to reach out before now.”
We found our way to the front of the line, and I held my Solo cup out to the frat rat behind the bar. “Another beer, please.” Turning to Saylor, I asked, “What are you having?”
“A beer, please.”
After the bartender handed us our drinks, we stepped to the side.
“You’re a little sister to this frat.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Buddies with Dalton Sneed and Taco Hernandez.”
“Yep.”
“Does that mean you like football?”
“Are you asking if I like the game, or if I’m into football players?” Over the rim of her cup, those amber eyes snapped with mischief.
“Yes.”
Laughter bubbled out of her throat, a burbling sound that settled in my chest. I wanted to hear that laugh over and over again.
“Yes,” she echoed.
“Good to know.” I smiled and drank more beer. “Next question. How good is your cornhole game? From what Dalton said, tonight’s tournament is high-stakes.”
“Are you worried I can’t carry you?” she challenged with a little shoulder bump that heated my skin beneath the sleeve of my T-shirt.
I grinned. “Hmm, it seems we’re evenly matched. My teammates will appreciate that as much as your frat will.”
A tall, lanky guy with a bullhorn in his hand appeared on the top step of the deck.
“Welcome, Sigma Nu, to the final night of the interfraternity cornhole tournament. If you haven’t already set your teams, now is the time.
Step on over to the registration table and give Steve your names and which house you’re playing for.
The rules state that at least one team member on each team must be from the fraternity you’re representing. ”
On cue, people lined up in front of the registration table where “Steve” efficiently filled in names on a tournament bracket.
A few minutes later, they were lining up by the boards covering the yard.
I had to laugh when I saw that Saylor and I had been assigned to play at a pair of cornholes decorated with an elaborately calligraphed obscenity against the ’Cats’ biggest rivals, the Golden Bears.
“Both teams are on the same page with that,” Saylor said with a smirk in the direction of the tilted boards.
On the signal of the guy with the bullhorn, play began.
We were matched with a couple of guys wearing shirts with the Sigma Nu insignia.
Since they were both of average build, I had the idea neither was an athlete.
Didn’t mean they couldn’t play cornhole though—as they proved early on in the game, scoring eight points right out of the gate.
But Saylor wasn’t exaggerating when she’d shot her mouth off about carrying me.
Girl could drop bags in the hole like a boss.
While I didn’t bullseye more than a couple, I still managed to keep our opponents from grabbing the lead, either by canceling their points with my own or sending their bags off the board, keeping them from scoring at all.
We won our first round by a score of 21-17 and stepped to the side to await our next opponents.
“Where did you hone your mad skills at cornhole, Ace?” I asked as we wandered up to the bar for beer refills.
“Football tailgates. While the team is warming up in the stadium, the fans are warming up in the parking lot.” Those arresting amber eyes danced. “Money might change hands on the outcome of a cornhole game.”
“You a gambler, Saylor Davis?” I asked, enjoying the way her name rolled off my tongue.
“Maybe,” she drawled.
“That’s a yes.”
She answered with a secret smile that sucker punched me in the solar plexus. This girl who’d deliberately hidden her identity from me when we first encountered each other was playing poker with me—only I’d just figured out she’d already dealt the hand.
“Are you gambling on this tournament?” I asked.
Waving a hand in front of her face, she said, “Nah. I already made my money from the Sigma Nu president at the Mardi Gras party. Besides, this tournament is for the Panhellenic Cup. No one in either house would take a chance on jeopardizing a house win by betting on the outcome.”
“Is that where you disappeared that night? Into a private poker game?”
Her nonchalant shrug didn’t distract me from her tiny smirk. “What can I say? Every house needs a ringer. I’m the SCRs’ lucky charm.”
I threw back my head and laughed. “I bet you are.” Sighting the players standing beside our designated boards, I nodded in their direction. “Looks like we’re up again, Lucky Charm.”
Tossing back her shoulders, she gave her hips a little extra sway—as though I hadn’t noticed them as I’d followed her up the stairs to the bar.
Twice already. Even if we weren’t partners, I wasn’t sure I could do anything other than follow her when she moved like that—all smooth, rolling hips and long strides on those endless tanned legs her short shorts showed off to perfection.
This time we faced off against a Sigma Nu and one of their frat’s little sisters.
Honestly, I couldn’t figure out how they’d made it to the second round with how the frat rat had absolutely zero aim.
I think he maybe put two bags in the hole throughout the entire game.
His partner had a clue what she was doing, but she was no match for Saylor.
We made such short work of their team I still had half a beer left at the end of the match.
Our next opponents chucked us out of the quarterfinals.
I pegged the two guys in their special polo shirts as athletes.
Turned out one wrestled at 145 pounds, while the other was a champion pole vaulter.
Guess Dalton was right about the face-off between the football team and championship-caliber athletes from a couple of other sports.
At least we went down fighting, taking them into overtime and only losing 19-21.
Without consulting each other, we wandered over to where Bax and Dalton were in a dogfight with a couple of Sigma Nus that Saylor said were regulars at the tailgate cornhole games.
While I stayed close to her, she focused her attention on her friend Piper, who I gathered, was supposed to have been Saylor’s teammate before I pushed my way onto her team instead.
Piper made sure to include me in their conversation, even sliding me the occasional conspiratorial wink that told me she’d clocked my interest in her friend and definitely approved.
With the way Dalton and Taco had kept Saylor’s identity from me for all these months since the Mardi Gras party, I was happy at least one of her girlfriends was on Team Cash.
“So you like to play poker?” I asked.
“Like I told you. I’m the SCR good-luck charm. I also might know how to play stud poker like”—Saylor’s eyes sparkled—“a stud.”
Piper shook her head at Saylor’s antics, but she was grinning.
“That good, huh? You ever play with any of the Wildcats?”
“Saylor’s the reason Dalton doesn’t lose all of his allowance to Wyatt anymore,” Piper explained before giving Saylor a warning. “Wyatt is quite grumpy about it, so you probably shouldn’t play with him.”
“Huh. So you’re an ace cornhole player and a card sharp. What other talents are you hiding behind that pretty face?” I asked.
Piper not-so-subtly elbowed Saylor, giving her a look that said, “He’s so into you.” I had to work to hide my grin both at Piper’s behavior and at the sweet wash of pink coloring Saylor’s cheeks. The woman wasn’t wrong. I was definitely into Saylor.
“You won that poker game on Mardi Gras, didn’t you?” Piper asked.
“I may have been a bit distracted at the beginning, which turned out to be a good thing.”
“Were you, now?” Though my tone was teasing, I wanted the story—and to know if I had a part in it.
For a second, her snappy amber eyes glittered at me before Saylor returned her attention to her friend. “I started out losing or breaking even, which made the Pikes cocky. Then AJ reminded me to get my head in the game, and after that I may have cleaned house.” Her cocky attitude cracked me up.
“Good to know.”
She knitted her brows.
“When it comes to games, either I’m on your team, or I’m playing a different game.”
Piper patted my shoulder. “Smart man.” Turning to Saylor, she added, “Another point in Cash’s favor. Just sayin’.”
Piper took a couple of steps closer to where Bax was lining up to send his bags, leaving Saylor and me together.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
Saylor blinked, a tiny smile playing over her lips.
“What else are you good at?”
“I think you already know the answer to that.”