Chapter Sixteen Cash #2
Though she tried to hide it, I caught the grin that ghosted over her luscious lips. “Which will be on full display at the house tonight. Are you coming over?”
“Depends. Are you giving me a ride?” At her raised eyebrows, I added, “I rode to campus with Taco this afternoon. His final was two hours. Mine was three since it included a lab.”
“Why do I feel like I’ve been set up?” The suspicion in her tone made me laugh.
“Can’t imagine.” As she drove us over to the SCR house, I casually brought up the football party.
“So what happened the other night? We were having a great time together, I lost the bet and didn’t fuss about holding up my end, and then you went all cold on me. Was I supposed to renege on our wager?”
Because I was in the passenger seat, I could give her my full attention, which meant I didn’t miss the way her hands gripped the wheel at my question.
“No. If you’d bailed on your loss, I never would have let you up about it.”
“Yeah? So what gives? Did I do something else to piss you off?”
“You’re awfully direct—you know that?”
“Not seeing that as a bad thing.”
Silence followed a long sigh. Right when I thought I’d have to ask again, she said, “Like you said, that party wasn’t a date. I was giving you space to hook up with one of the groupies admiring your abs.”
I think she was trying to inject some playfulness into her words, but all I heard was Saylor was jealous. Inside my head I pumped my fist hard while outwardly, I suppressed a grin. From the way she was holding herself, she didn’t want to be jealous, which didn’t change the fact that she was.
“Huh. The only question I have is, what do you think of my abs?”
She snorted. “Are you for real?”
Giving her my best smile, I said, “Every damn day.” Then I sobered. “We may not have been on an official date, but we were definitely at that party together, which means I could give a shit what any other woman there thought of me.”
The side-eye she shot me held all sorts of questions that I answered with a level look of my own. No need for you to be jealous, Saylor. No one else has ever kissed me the way you do.
We parked a block down the street from the house and headed inside where a few SCRs were hanging out by the counter separating the kitchen from the great room.
Sounds of clinking bottles and laughter drifted through the open back door.
As we drew closer, I saw where the guys were gathering up snacks.
“Need some help?” Saylor asked as she rolled past me.
“Hey, Saylor! Jory here said he knows what he’s doing, but we don’t trust him. Would you mind making the guac?” a beanpole of a guy with a mop of dirty-blond hair asked.
“Sure. No problem.”
Though she was dressed in that white halter dress, Saylor didn’t even hesitate to step into the kitchen to go to work peeling and mashing the bag of avocados on the countertop.
“Where do they keep the knives?” I asked as I grabbed a purple onion from beside the avocados.
Instead of answering, Saylor produced one from a rack beside the stove.
From the looks of the butcher-block countertop, cutting boards were not a thing in the house, so I didn’t bother to ask for one before I went to work dicing the onion.
When she glanced over to where I’d nearly finished my task, she wiped her hands on a paper towel and stepped over to the fridge.
A second later, a bunch of cilantro landed between us.
With a grin, I took the hint and chopped that up too.
In short order, we had a bowlful of yummy guacamole ready to go outside to join the bags of chips the guys had taken with them when they abandoned the task of making dip.
I stuck my finger in the guac on the side of the bowl and trained my gaze on hers as I stuck it in my mouth for a taste, enjoying the way her pretty amber eyes turned molten gold at my antics. Sticking my other index finger into the bowl, I lifted it to her lips.
“Taste what a great team we are,” I coaxed.
She parted her lips, and my cock leaped to attention when she closed them around my finger, her tongue doing all sorts of naughty things as she licked me clean.
“That’ll do,” she whispered before she cleared her throat. “The beer is outside. We should go grab one since it’s so hot.” She picked up the bowl of guac and headed for the door. “It’s really hot for the end of May, isn’t it?”
I didn’t bother to stifle my chuckle at her inane rambling, but I did give myself a second to tug my T-shirt over my crotch as I followed her out the door.
SCRs and several girls were lounging in lawn chairs scattered over the back lawn, indolently drinking beer and watching a few of the guys—including my roommates Taco and Dalton—toss bags in a decidedly noncompetitive game of cornhole.
It was either that, or they’d been hitting the beer for a while, judging by how frequently the bags were missing the mark.
Saylor set the dip beside the chips and some platters of veggies, meat, and cheese on a table in the shade of the house.
A cooler full of icy beers waited at the end of the table, and I stepped over to grab one for each of us, making sure to brush my hand over hers when I handed it over.
Saylor’s eyes flashing on mine told me she knew exactly what I was up to, but she didn’t move away.
Instead, she popped the top of her can and downed a long sip.
“This is exactly what I needed after that last final.” After another drink, she added, “Thank you for being there looking all big and everything but keeping your mouth shut as you witnessed Barry’s threats.”
“You had him under control.” I clinked my can to hers. “What’s this about a poker game?”
The delicate wing of her brow went up.
“You mentioned you were playing poker here tonight.”
A challenge sparkled in those arresting eyes. “You want to play poker with me?”
Shrugging, I tossed back some beer and then ran my tongue over my lip, enjoying the way her eyes tracked its progress. “Sounds like a good time.”
The barest of smiles flitting over her mouth sent a tingle of excitement down my spine. For some reason her reaction gave me the idea playing poker with Saylor would be bigger than cards and wagers.
By silent agreement, we wandered over to a couple of empty chairs in the shade of a bush near the cornhole game.
“Hey, Cash! Saylor. You two up for playing the winners?” Taco asked right after the bag he’d tossed slid off the board and into the grass.
“Depends. Will this game be over by sundown?” I asked with a straight face.
He flipped me the bird as his opponent tossed a bag that landed on Taco’s in the grass.
With a nod in the direction of the two beanbags whose positions meant no points for either team, I said, “It’s a fair question.”
Beside me Saylor chuckled. When we sat down, she’d tossed off her shoes and swung one leg over the arm of her chair, casually swinging it as she watched the game.
Though she wore a dress, she’d managed the feat without showing off any skin above the knee.
The move was tantalizing and sexy, and from the tiny grin playing around her mouth, she knew exactly the effect she was having on me.
“What are your summer plans, Little Miss Poker Player?” I asked, as much to take my mind off her mouthwatering legs as because I wanted to know how much time I could hope to spend with her before two-a-days and fall camp started in July.
“I have an internship with Olivia Carter at Heart Dreams Studios in Denver starting in two weeks.”
Though she played it cool with that swinging foot, the excitement in her voice made me feel like a jerk for my viscerally negative reaction.
I didn’t know who Olivia Carter was, but from the way Saylor said her name, I could tell she was a big deal.
The internship was probably an incredible opportunity for Saylor’s career.
After only one date, I had no right to the sudden feelings of jealousy and loss.
“Fill me in. Who is Olivia Carter?”
“Only one of the best music video directors on the planet. Her videos have won all sorts of VMA, CMA, and Grammy awards. She’s a music-video legend.” The way Saylor’s eyes shone as she gushed about her idol made me want to look up this woman’s work.
Saylor took care of that for me. “Check out this video she did for Balefire. They filmed it at the observatory above Los Angeles. Isn’t it awesome?
” She leaned close so I could look at her phone, but I was lost in her scent—something floral with a hint of musk and vanilla that made my cock pay attention. “Cash, are you watching?”
“Yeah. That’s a great video. Didn’t Balefire win an Oscar for that song?”
With a nod, she slipped her phone back into a hidden pocket of her dress. “That video went a long ways toward helping them win their Academy Award.”
“That’s what you want to do—film musicians?”
After a swallow of her beer, she said, “I’d like to travel the world to arenas, making the musicians look amazing on the Jumbotrons for the people in the back of Wembley or Mile High or Nissan Stadium.
” At my blank look, she clarified. “Wembley in London, Mile High in Denver, Nissan Stadium in Yokohama.”
“You said you wanted to travel the world, so it threw me when you mentioned two arenas in the good ol’ USA,” I said, “because I thought Nissan was in Nashville. It’s where the Titans play.”
She shot me a look from beneath her brows. “The world doesn’t revolve around football, Cash.” An impish expression played over her features. “Now you’ve learned something today.”
Pulling my phone from the pocket of my shorts, I made an exaggerated show of checking the time.
“I finished my last final an hour and twenty minutes ago. I don’t have to learn anything more today.
” Then I leaned in to whisper for her ears only, “Unless you want to teach me what else besides kissing you do exceptionally well.” Speaking over her gasp, I added, “I bet you do lots of things exceptionally well.”
Because I was so close to her, I couldn’t miss the shiver that danced over her body at my suggestion. When she turned her head, I didn’t bother to hide my grin at her response either. I was into Saylor Davis, and I had a clue the feeling was mutual.
The trio of guys who couldn’t figure out the guac apparently could figure out the grill.
One of them called out to the rest of the crowd hanging out in little groups that burgers were ready, breaking the spell between Saylor and me.
After everyone had eaten, some of the group headed out while the few who stayed behind wandered into the great room where a massive dining table sat pride of place.
Turning her attention to Dalton, Saylor asked, “Five-card stud tonight?”
Glancing around at the girls who were still hanging out, he said, “How ’bout Hearts instead? We should break the new Little Rhos in easy, don’tcha think?” The way his attention strayed to one of those girls implied a double entendre with his choice of card game.
Apparently, Saylor picked up on that too because she laughed that throaty laugh of hers that made the front of my shorts tight and said, “Well, then we have to break out into quads.”
In short order, she had the group assembled into three groups of four, with a couple of the SCRs graciously sitting out to let their little sisters play.
Saylor announced it was cutthroat Hearts, and we were in tournament play.
Then she did something heinous and split Dalton away from his Hearts interest and assigned me to a group that didn’t include her.
As play began, I figured out her game plan.
After playing a couple of hands, Dalton was in a group with his girl and I was playing in the championship across from Saylor.
How she’d known the outcome of her gambit was another mystery I wanted to solve.
But that would have to wait until after I won the hand.
Which I did not.
Neither did Saylor. A dark horse of an SCR named AJ swooped in and shot the moon, taking all the tricks and leaving the rest of us with all the points. He laughed and ruffled Saylor’s hair as he stood from the table to grab another beer.
Saylor excused herself to use the powder room, and when she stepped out, I was waiting.
“Are we sticking around?” I asked.
“You’re ready to go home?”
“Not necessarily.”