Chapter Fourteen Cash #2
Beneath the table Saylor’s hand found its way on top of mine. Willing myself to remain relaxed, I waited to see what she’d do—push my hand away or… Her palm covering the back of my hand and lightly squeezing pulled my grin out of hiding.
Huh. Looked like she might be on board for dating a football player who didn’t harbor NFL aspirations—or at least one who had to concede any pro aspirations were an outer-space long shot.
Our server arrived with the pitchers of beer and one of water.
Finn passed around the mugs while Dally and Saylor took over pouring duties.
“That’s a perfect head,” I said as Saylor handed me a mug of lager. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Comes from being a Montana girl. We all learn how to pour a flawless beer as a rite of passage, don’t we?” She winked across the table at Chessly, who held up her mug in salute.
“Every time I see you, I learn of another of your talents.”
The sardonic lift of her right eyebrow said she thought I was teasing.
“Serious. According to Dalton, you’re a poker-playing genius. I’ve witnessed your mad cornhole-playing skills firsthand. You know how to paddle a raft, and you can pour a flawless head. From where I’m sitting, you’re pretty close to perfect.”
Chessly coughed into her hand. “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you, Cash?”
I kept my attention on Saylor, meeting her narrow-eyed gaze with a smoldering one of my own. “Nah. I’m all about being straight up.”
Finn and Dally choked on their beers, and I let a grin ghost over my mouth at the way Saylor blinked at my double entendre.
With impeccable timing, the server arrived with our pies. Chessly passed around plates, and we took turns sliding slices onto them. For a couple of minutes, our attention went directly and completely to our food.
After downing a slice, Finn said, “Party’s at our place tonight. You’re gonna be there, right?”
“Depends.”
He raised his brows. “On what? You have better plans than hanging out with your teammates?”
“Depends on what Saylor wants to do.” I slid her a side-eye. “If she’s going to your party, then I’m going to your party.”
“They’re your teammates,” she said with enough sarcasm to make me laugh.
“But none of them are as stunning as you,” I replied.
Chessly let out a snort. “You two are pathetic.”
“Kinda like you and Finn were in the beginning, if I remember right.” Dally didn’t glance up from his plate, but none of us missed his sly smirk.
Chessly elbowed him in the side, which only made his smirk bigger. Then she trained her gaze on me. “I’m not a big fan of parties, but the ones on Jock Street are pretty fun—aren’t they, Saylor?”
Something passed between the two women I couldn’t decipher. Damn, what was it with women and their silent communications anyway?
Beside me, Saylor shrugged. “Tarvi and Patty find better DJs, but the drama is always bigger at your place,” she said to Finn with a laugh. “So yeah, I like going to football parties.”
“So that’s our plan for tonight, huh?” I asked.
“It’s my plan. You can suit yourself,” she said with a haughty sniff.
I cracked up, as did my teammates, but for different reasons. While Dally and Finn tossed me shit for Saylor shooting me down, I smiled and slipped my hand under the table to give her thigh a warning squeeze. Our friends might think I was out of the running, but she and I knew better.
After we’d finished our meal, I was reaching for the check to determine Saylor’s and my share when Finn pulled it away from me.
“We played a game today, so dinner is on the house.” At my raised brows, he added, “One of the perks of having an NIL contract with this place. But we all chip in on the tip.” He calculated a number for Dally and me to chip in, and we tossed some bills on the table.
As we left the pizzeria, I leaned down to whisper in Saylor’s ear, “Got room in your ride for one more?”
“I rode with Piper and Bax.”
“Then I’ll see you in a few at Bax’s place.”
Tilting her head, she asked, “Why are you so persistent?”
“I gave you a list of reasons over dinner.” I grinned. “But here are a few more. You’re smart, you’re interesting, and you in a hot-pink bikini is the stuff of wet dreams.” At her gasp, I laughed and said, “See you at the party.”
Jogging up the street, I fell into step with my roommate, who waited until we were in his truck to say something. “You and Saylor Davis, huh? Be careful with that one.”
“Why?”
“She eats guys for lunch. Half of Dalton and Taco’s frat has made a run at her, as well as several players on the ’Cats. She’s gorgeous, but unattainable. Don’t let her fuck with your head.”
“You one of the ’Cats to have made a run at her?” The idea of Saylor hooking up with Dally made my hands itch.
“She’s not my type. But Fitzy tried last semester. Did not work out well.”
“Fitzy?” I thought I knew all the guys on the team—and their nicknames—but apparently, I’d missed someone, which wouldn’t do at all for a guy who wanted to be a team leader.
“Jeremiah Fitzgerald, our former starting nose tackle. He’s on the Bears practice squad as a free agent after this year’s draft,” Dally said as though I were an imbecile for not having basic team knowledge.
I nodded. “Okay. Anyone else?”
He drummed his hands on the steering wheel as he drove us back to our place. “A couple of other seniors who’ve since moved on, which changes nothing. She likes to flirt and have a good time, but she’s already got one foot out the door—you know what I mean?”
“I appreciate you looking out for me, bro, but I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
We rolled into the driveway of our house and I headed inside to drop my duffel in my room and change my shirt. A few minutes later, Dally and I headed across the back alley separating our place from the big Victorian on Jock Street where the party was already started.
When we stepped through the back gate, we discovered a heated cornhole match between our teammates and some guys from the track team. Dally stopped to watch while I headed inside. In the kitchen, I accepted a glass of keg beer Taco handed me.
“How is it you’re manning the keg?” I asked as I downed a pull from my Solo cup.
“Dally hasn’t arrived yet, and someone needs to be in charge.”
“He’s watching cornhole.” I nodded in the direction of the back yard. “You seen Saylor yet?”
“Nope.” Taco blinked. “I thought she was with you at Stromboli’s.”
“She was, but neither of us had our cars.” I tipped back my cup then held it out for a top-up. “Is Bax here?”
“Haven’t seen him yet either, but the party’s just getting started.”
With a nod, I wandered off in the direction of the living room where a thumping hip-hop beat underscored loud laughter and conversation.
The party may just be starting, but it seemed it had started fast. I stepped out of the kitchen, and my gaze zeroed in on the entryway across the room where Saylor stood beside her friend Piper.
As though she sensed my eyes on her, she glanced up and stared evenly back at me—a challenge.
Saluting her with my cup, I accepted her challenge, parting the dancers between us like the Red Sea as I made my way across the living room.
“Glad you made it,” I said as I stood in front of her.
“We’ll see.”