Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Max
We made it to the bar and I ordered a round of drinks for Sean and Brandon. A few of the other rookies joined us and I tried not to feel like the Pied Piper.
“And for you?” The pretty bartender asked, her smile more than professional.
“Knob Creek. Neat.”
Hunter Quintanna, the soon-to-be groom, sauntered over because that’s how he moved except when he was on the field. Then he looked like he had liquid lightning in his veins.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” he said to the bartender.
Brandon and Sean and the others raised their glasses to him, murmuring congratulations.
The bartender slid him the glass of amber liquid and Hunter lifted it from the bar.
“You ready for this?” I said.
“More than ready. Got any words of wisdom, old man?”
I snorted—in my head. Aloud I said, “Not my area of expertise.” I raised my bare ring hand as evidence.
“So maybe you learned a thing or two.”
I looked at him. The others must have sensed our conversation was private because they gave us some space, drinking their drinks and watching the couples dance, eyeing and commenting on the single women.
“Sure. I learned don’t get married to the first girl that comes along.
” Realizing I sounded cynical and that wasn’t right, I amended my words.
“Which for you translates to don’t ever take her, or what you have together, for granted.
” I raised my glass as did he and I took a strong swig.
Then I turned to the crowded patio dance floor, dimly lit under the stars, but still light enough to spot the mane of red hair on a certain girl.
My cock kicked up and I took a breath. But I was only looking.
Coach had a protective streak around her and she was off-limits to me.
Sean Patrick laughed with his usual cross between amusement and something more sinister, like he always needed you to be afraid of him. There was something going on with him and I needed to find out one of these days. Soon. He turned to me and Hunter.
“Hunter, why aren’t you dancing with your bride-to-be? Leaving her out on the floor for me?”
“Dancing’s not my thing. Go ahead and dance with her.” He paused a beat, long enough for Sean to break out into a grin, then added. “Touch her and I break your arm.” Serious as a judge.
“There’s plenty of bridesmaids to dance with,” I said.
May as well have one of the young bucks take the red siren from my temptation zone.
Glancing at the dancers again, making a subtle sweep with my eyes, I spotted her.
Her eyes were on me. The connection spiked me like a stake to my heart and my pulse ratcheted up as if I’d just run the forty for all I was worth.
I didn’t show anything in my expression, but she gave me a half smile, half pout as she swirled her hips and shimmied her shoulders, shaking her breasts in unholy temptation.
Goddamn. My cock stiffened and my hand tightened around my glass.
Turning away, I signaled the bartender for another drink as I drained the one in my hand.
Hunter laughed. “Looks like someone’s got your attention.”
“Nah. Even if I were interested, Coach made it clear she’s off-limits.”
Hunter grunted. “His bark is worse than his bite.”
“That’s right. You would know. You’re marrying his daughter.” I shook my head. “Afraid I’m not as adventurous as you. Certainly not prepared for marrying anyone else anytime soon. I think Coach knows that. He figures I’m ripe for a fling and nothing more. That’s why he warned me off.”
“Would he be right?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Especially if I kept up this pace with the Knob Creek. The bartender slid another filled glass my way.
Hunter nodded. “We’ll see.”
“Now who’s acting the sage?” I said. He laughed and I raised my fresh drink in a mini toast. “May you be forever happy with your bride.”
He nodded and we drank. I took it easy with a slow sip this time. It was only Thursday and I had two more nights to go. I wasn’t used to going out drinking.
Sean and Brandon came up to the bar, joining us.
“Seriously, brother.” Brandon said. “I think it’s a rule that the groom has to dance.”
“Waiting for a slow dance. What’s your excuse?” Hunter said.
“Waiting for our fearless leader to make his move.” Sean pointed his raised glass in my direction. “What are you waiting for? The redhead’s been eyeing you from the dance floor for the last three songs.”
I nodded and smirked at him then glanced back to the crowded patio.
I knew a flirtatious come-hither smile when I saw one and that’s what I saw on Red’s face.
I watched her as she twirled on the floor and wasn’t surprised to see her weave her way in our direction.
The thing was, I wasn’t at all sure she was aiming for me.
There was a mob of young studs surrounding me and she looked more than capable of playing games, of bait and switch, of trying to get a rise out of me by dancing with any of the eager and willing men ogling her right now.
She swayed and turned through the crowd on the patio, dancing to the classic rock tune even I wasn’t old enough to place except to know it wasn’t the Beatles or the Stones, but it was familiar and it was good.
“Let’s let the lady make the choice,” I said. Playing into her game. I wasn’t the eager, obvious type, but if my instincts were right, that wouldn’t stop her and it would give me a chance to decide if I was in the mood to play with fire.
Coach was right. I’d planned for a fling this weekend. And I wasn’t foolish enough to disregard Coach’s warning about Natalie. I’d have to be very careful with that fireball. Smart money said I should keep my distance.
Sean snorted but didn’t take his eyes off the five-alarm redhead as she neared our group.
“Then let’s raise the bet to a thousand,” he said.
It was my turn to snort, but I held back on taking the bet. He was still on a rookie contract and didn’t have as much money to work with as I did.
My big fat proven-veteran paycheck had been hard won and well deserved after all these years, defying the law of averages for NFL ballers, even QBs.
So, no, I wasn’t going to rub it in his face that he was still an unproven quantity, may never earn the multimillion-dollar contract that would give him room to bet real money, thousands instead of hundreds.
Not that making foolish bets for lots of money was a good standard, but it seemed to be a rite of passage in the locker room of every team and every sport, as far as I could tell.
“If you’re sure,” I said.
We both watched her silently as she approached. The lights were low, but I could see the inviting flash in her eyes every time she turned, undulating closer through the crowd. She wasn’t dancing with Cat anymore. I couldn’t see where the bride-to-be had disappeared to in the crowd of dancers.
“I think Ms. Hot Stuff is about to take the guesswork out of our bet,” Sean Patrick said under his breath.
Natalie ended her titillating journey, circling with her hips gyrating and shoulders rolling, right in front of us. Then she stopped with one of those smiles that ought to be photographed for lipstick commercials or for people to look at on dark days.