Chapter Fifteen Saylor
Chapter Fifteen
Saylor
The poor choice I’d made to accept a ride to the scrimmage and then to Stromboli’s with Piper came home to roost when I couldn’t wiggle out of the football party on Jock Street.
Normally, I was all in for a good time, but after watching Cash play in the scrimmage, I couldn’t see how some NFL team wouldn’t pick him up by this time next spring.
Cash was every bit as good of a player as Patty, with a better feel for the game and a bigger arm. While I wasn’t interested in dating a player, I did love football. Loving football was as much a part of my life as music and film. Football was where I bonded with my dad and my brother.
But dating a player? Nope. Absolutely not in my wheelhouse.
Right. So how do you explain Thursday night and the way your body reacts to the tiniest contact with Cash’s?
I told my conscience to shut the F up.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Piper said as we followed Bax in his truck over to the party at his place.
“I’m still sifting through the mess Chessly’s in with Tory Miller—again.” My mouth flattened. “I swear that girl makes all of us whose parents have money look terrible.”
“Agreed. From what Callahan said at dinner, Coach is going to have a word with the president about her dad—and her. He’s tired of that family interfering with his team.”
Even with her gaze on the road, I couldn’t miss the feral gleam in her eye.
“For someone whose boyfriend didn’t grab Tory’s eye, you sure are invested in this drama.”
“She’s made life hell for our friends. Neither Chess nor Jamaica deserve any of the shit Tory’s dished out since she arrived on campus last year.
Someone needs to take her down a peg or ten, and from what Callahan implied, Coach Ellis is the man to do it.
” Piper turned off the roundabout near the guys’ house.
“Hallelujah and good riddance.” She held up her fist for me to bump, and both of us grinned.
“Now what’s the deal with you and the new quarterback?”
I slunk further into the cushions of the plush bucket seat in her fancy SUV and crossed my arms. “There’s no ‘deal’ with Cash and me.”
“Of course not. Which totally explains the way he waited beside the booth for you to slide in beside him.” She grinned at my growl. “And the way your face lit up when you saw him before you dropped your usual mask of sardonic amusement.”
I turned a frown on my friend. “My mask of sardonic amusement? What the hell are you talking about?”
“You watch the world as though it’s one long reality TV show—one you can laugh at or check out of anytime you want.
Whenever we’re around cute or fun or interesting guys, you never truly engage.
” When I tried to contradict her, she waved a hand between us.
“Oh, sure, you enjoy the occasional one-night stand, and you’re a pro at flirting, but I’ve never seen you give any guy a real chance.
” She flipped her blinker, and we turned down Jock Street where parking looked to be at a premium.
“Tonight at Stromboli’s when you saw Cash, for a second the expression on your face said you were happy to see him. ”
I stared out the windshield under the pretense of looking for a parking place. “Don’t read anything into it, girlfriend. We had fun on our date the other night, but we aren’t on the same trajectory as you and Bax.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. The lies we tell ourselves.” She grinned as she parked her car behind Bax’s truck in his driveway.
Before I could splutter a denial, she was out of her ride and striding up beside Bax’s driver’s side door. With an exasperated sigh, I stepped out of her car and joined them as they entered the house.
I’d barely stepped into the living room when I locked eyes with the man in question. While I tried to process how he’d arrived at the party so fast, Cash strolled through the crowded room, parting the people dancing like a scene from a cheesy nineties teen romcom.
Even in the dim light of the room, those gunmetal-grey eyes smoldered when he stepped into my space. “Glad you made it.” Then he did something truly alarming. He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss over my cheek.
For a second I closed my eyes and let my other senses take over. His breath smelled pleasantly of beer and something dark and masculine that was pure Cash, while his firm lips left an invisible heated imprint on my skin.
“We’re just hanging out together tonight. Don’t get any ideas about this being a date,” he said into my ear before he ghosted another kiss over the shell of it.
Though I gave it my best, I couldn’t control the shiver that shimmied over me at the subtle press of his lips to my skin.
“Have I mentioned how cocky you are?” I asked, pointedly not returning his smile.
“Admit it, Saylor. You like that about me.” He jacked up the wattage of his cat-that-ate-the-canary grin and let those smoldering gray eyes rest on my lips for a beat. Sliding his hand into mine, he said, “Come on. Let’s grab you a beer.”
Without waiting for my response, he tugged me behind him.
Once again the crowd parted for him as he strolled through the dancers filling up the middle of the living room.
Just like at the other parties I’d attended at Bax, Callahan, Finn, and Danny’s house, the furniture was pushed against the walls to create a makeshift dance floor, the DJ was in the corner of the room between the stairs leading to the bedrooms and the hallway to the powder room, and from the sounds coming from the dining room, the flip-cup tournament was already underway.
The kitchen was marginally quieter away from the music pounding through the DJ’s amps and the noise of people laughing as they danced.
One of the football players I recognized by face but not by name stood beside Dallas Cousins as he filled a pitcher with beer from the keg.
A minute later he headed through the door between the kitchen and the dining room with his prize.
Catching sight of Cash, Dally said, “You need a refill?”
Cash handed him his cup. “Thanks. One for Saylor too, please.”
“Hey! You made it.” As he filled our cups like a bartending pro, Dally said, “You gotta admit, Saylor, when it comes to parties, no one can throw down like the football team.”
I gave him half a grin as I took the cup he handed me.
“I even heard once that you think our parties are more fun than the ones your frat bros throw,” he added with a smirk.
Answering with a shrug, I said, “You guys draw a fun crowd. Whose collective ass is the football team kicking in flip-cup tonight?” I nodded in the direction of where that pitcher of beer had disappeared into the dining room.
“The women’s track team won regionals, so we’re taking them on.
Apparently, we won the first round, since Draper came out for the pitcher refill.
” Dally crossed his massive arms over the barrel of his chest and projected his best Buddha imitation.
“Which is to be expected. No skinny distance runner is going to be able to throw down with a football player.”
A loud cheer from the direction of the dining room interrupted his commentary.
“I bet those girls were going easy on your boys, testing them out in round one to see what they needed to do to drink them under the table,” I challenged, waggling my brows as I sipped some beer and ran my tongue over the foam on my lip.
Cash tightened his grip on my hand, and I wondered why our hands were still clasped together. Then he said, “Looks like we need to check out the tournament, cheer on our boys.”
Once again he tugged me along with him as we made our way into the dining room—a room that, as far as I’d ever been able to tell, was only used for playing drinking games.
From the looks of things, my prediction was spot-on.
The girls’ track team was cleaning house on the football team.
Apparently, they were competing in flights, and flight two for the girls was a ringer.
A collective groan went up from the football players as they lost the round.
En masse, they gathered in front of an antique sideboard where someone had lined up a row of shot glasses.
The last girl standing in the flip-cup round grabbed a bottle of tequila off the top shelf of the sideboard and ran it down the line, filling each shot glass to the brim with fiery agave nectar.
The guys shouted, “Go! ’Cats! Go!” and downed their shots as the next flights of players lined up on either side of the table.
Cash leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Care to make a wager on this round?”
“Poker is not the same as sports betting,” I said with a sniff.
“Ah, so you’re afraid you’ll lose the bet.”
I caught the tiny upturn at the corner of his mouth while he watched the two teams line up their cups.
“Out of curiosity, what’s the bet?”
He shot me a sexy side-eye and downed another drink of beer. “If the boys win, you go home with me tonight.”
My heart skittered at that, especially when he accompanied his words with a skim of his thumb over my wrist where our hands were still entwined.
“When the girls win?” The saccharine sweetness of my tone should have made his teeth hurt, but I had to do something to draw his attention away from the spike in my pulse.
“If the girls win, I’ll borrow the DJ’s mic to sing whatever song you choose.”
“Even ‘Barbie Girl’?”
“At the top of my voice,” he assured me with a grin.
While I pondered the repercussions of losing a fifty-fifty bet, the teams finished setting up their cups.
“What’s it going to be, Saylor? Taking a chance or chickening out?” Cash taunted.
“I can’t wait to hear you sing every single word in that song—with actions,” I said.