24. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
CHRIS
T he thumping bass of the music reverberates through the club where we sit in the corner booth at Bradd’s. Elizabeth, Charlotte, Brynn, and Tatum excuse themselves, sliding from the vinyl bench and turning toward the bathrooms as I ogle my girl. “Damn, Baker, I hate it when you leave, but I love watching you go.”
She casts me a glance over her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “How did I know you were staring at my ass?”
“What can I say?” I grin. “I’m a creature of habit.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums, unimpressed. “Try to get some better lines while I’m gone, will you?”
“Why, when the old ones work so well?”
She chuckles and hurries off with her friends while I stare after her like a lost puppy. It’s been two weeks since our hot yoga date, and we’ve been spending nearly every spare moment we can find together, yet it’s not enough.
Brandon groans. “Shit, man, and I thought Jace was cheesy.”
“What can I say, gentlemen,” I spread my arms out over the back of the booth, quite satisfied with myself, “I’m happier than a pig in shit.”
“You know, I never got that saying.” Brandon’s forehead creases as he takes a sip of his beer. “I mean, why a pig in shit? Why not a pig in mud? Do pigs really love shit that much? No. They only roll in mud because it cools them off and protects them from bugs and shit.”
“Stop talking,” Damon mumbles, scrolling through his phone.
“Says the guy who can’t get off Instagram for one fucking second,” Jace grumbles, swiping a finger furiously up Damon’s screen.
“Dude!” Damon protests.
“He’s right, man,” I say with a sad shake of my head. “You’ve been glued to that fucking thing for weeks.”
“Ugh. I know.” Damon scrubs a hand over his face, then flops back in the booth. “I’m driving myself fucking crazy.”
“Tell Daddy Chris all about it,” I say, wiggling my fingers for him to spill his guts.
“Call yourself daddy again, and I’ll punch you in the balls.”
I shrug. “Would it be worth it? Maybe.”
“This totally has to do with a chick, doesn’t it?” Jace asks. “Be honest.”
“What makes you think it has to do with a girl?” Damon asks, the picture of innocence.
I scoff. “It always has to do with a girl.”
“Whatever it is, man, we’re here for you. Anything you need,” Brandon adds.
Damon’s nostrils flare. His cheeks puff out like a chipmunk as he sucks in a breath. I can practically see the war he’s waging in his head over whether to tell us or not as his face starts turning a fiery shade of red. “Fine!” he finally shouts, “it has to do with a chick.”
“Pay up, bitches!” I pound a fist against the table while the others groan.
“Damn. I thought for sure he wasn’t even into girls,” Jace grumbles.
Brandon slaps a ten in front of me. “With how bitter he is, I thought for sure it was something else.”
Damon throws his hands up. “Seriously? You placed bets on this shit?”
I shrug. “You’ve been extra grumpy and glued to your phone. We knew something was going on,” I say, sliding my winnings from the table. “Now spill,” I say, waving my money around. “I’m the love master. Maybe I can help.”
Damon exhales, glaring at me from his side of the table. “I found out a few weeks ago that my ex is transferring to AAU next semester, and it’s all I can think about.”
“Oh, shit.” Brandon winces.
I raise a hand to silence him. “And I assume you still have feelings for this ex?”
“Yes? Maybe?” Damon groans. “I don’t fucking know.”
“What’s her name?” Brandon asks.
“What the fuck’s her name matter?”
He shrugs. “I dunno. Just trying to get a visual.”
“Her name is Avery,” Damon says with a sigh.
“Ooh, Avery,” Brandon murmurs. “She even sounds hot.”
Damon’s jaw clenches, and I can tell he’s two seconds away from popping Brandon in the jaw. “Well, look on the bright side,” I say. “At least you don’t have a thing for your best friend,” I say with a tip of the chin at Brandon.
“I don’t have a?” Brandon’s head swivels, and I know he’s looking for Tatum. “I told you,” he hisses, “I don’t have a thing for her.”
“Right. Whatever you say.” Jace shoots me a knowing look across the table. “You just decided to bring your female bestie to the club instead of, oh, I don’t know, trying to hook up with one of the other single and highly available women here who would probably jump at a chance with AAU’s best lineman?”
“Not every guy needs to hook up all the time to be happy.”
I nod, my expression serious. “Spoken like a man who’s stuck squarely in the friend zone.”
Brandon rolls his eyes and flips me the bird while the others laugh.
“What are we laughing about?” Brynn asks as she nudges Jace’s arm and scoots into the booth beside him.
Across from me, Brandon’s face burns. Stifling a chuckle, I hop out, allowing Elizabeth and Tatum to slide inside the booth before I sink back down and pull Charlotte into my side.
“Oh, nothing important,” Jace says with a shit-eating grin. “We were just talking about how Brandon needs to get laid.”
Brandon turns from red to purple. “You’re an asshole.” He turns to Tatum, adamant as he says, “That’s not what we . . . There was no talk of . . . that. ”
I snort.
“Well, if you need help, I can be your wingwoman,” Tatum says, giving his arm a friendly pat. “Just say the word, and I can help.”
“I’m sure he’d love that.” Jace snickers as Brandon cuts him with a glare that borders on pain.
Charlotte turns to me, her breath hot on the side of my face as she leans in. “Okay, what am I missing?”
“I’ll fill you in later,” I whisper, “when you come back with me to my place.”
Charlotte shivers. “Promise?”
“Okay, you two.” Brandon chucks a napkin at us. “Enough with the PDA.”
“Yeah, some of us are having a crisis over here.” Damon sulks.
I raise my hands innocently. “I wasn’t even touching her.”
“Not yet.” Elizabeth smirks.
“If every other time we’ve hung out in the last couple of weeks is any indication, you’ll be all over her in two seconds.” Brandon shakes his head with a grimace.
“Hey, my love language is touch.” I point to my chest. “And I have needs.”
“Aww.” Charlotte laughs, leaning close to place a kiss on my cheek. “Poor baby.”
“At least someone gets me,” I mumble as I turn into her, capturing her mouth with mine before she can pull away.
Damon groans, and Brandon shouts, “See!” He holds his hand out, as if he’s demonstrating something.
“And there it is.” Elizabeth claps, laughing.
“I mean, you may be nauseating,” Jace says, “but I can’t say I’m not at least a little impressed. Never thought you’d pull Charlotte. Might be worth taking his advice.”
“On that note, I’m out.” Damon pushes out of his seat to a chorus of groans and protests.
“Come on, man. The night is young. Don’t leave me here with them,” Brandon pleads.
“Nope.” Damon draws a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m going back to my apartment where I plan on passing out until noon tomorrow. After this afternoon’s win, I think we all deserve it.”
“ Riiiiight ,” I drawl. “More like he’s going to lie in bed all night staring at pics of Avery.”
“Who’s Avery?” Brynn asks with a frown, her gaze bouncing between us.
“No one.” Damon points his beer bottle at Jace as if to threaten him to silence. “Avery is no one important.”
“I’ll fill you in later, babe,” Jace whispers with a wink while Damon scowls at him.
“Actually, I have an early morning, too,” Tatum chimes in. “I wouldn’t mind heading back now. Think I could catch a ride?”
“With me?” Damon asks, eyes round like the moon.
“Yeah.” Tatum chuckles.
His gaze darts to Brandon and back while he scratches his head, clearly uncomfortable. “Er . . .”
“I can take you home.” Brandon rises to his feet beside them.
“Don’t you want to stay?” she asks. “It’s not a big deal catching a ride. Don’t leave on account of me.”
Brandon frowns, his forehead creasing as his gaze slides between his two friends, no doubt assessing the situation and trying to determine whether Tatum is being genuine or if she has a thing for our quarterback. “It’s not a big deal. We came together, and I’m ready to go if you are.”
“If you’re sure,” Tatum says with a shrug.
“Oh, he’s sure,” I mutter under my breath, which earns me Brandon’s favorite finger.
“I’m guessing the four of you are going to bail now, too?” Elizabeth asks with a huff.
Charlotte winces. “We can stay,” she says in a way that’s obvious she’s only doing it as a favor to her friend.
Elizabeth groans. “No. Get out of here. Go.”
Brynn starts to protest, but Elizabeth silences her. “I’ll just be a fifth wheel anyway.” With a sigh, she stands and follows the others out of the booth. “Man, I need a boyfriend. You boys have an entire football team. Think you can help a girl out?”
“On it,” I say with a sly smile. “I mean, I don’t wanna take credit or anything, but I’m half the reason Jace and Brynn are together.”
“This again?” Jace scoffs as the group of us head for the doors. “He had literally zero to do with it.”
My mouth gapes. “If it weren’t for my approval,” I say, stabbing a finger at him, “Brynn would never even have lived with us for the summer.”
“That’s a minor detail.”
I scoff as we approach the door to the club, wrenching it open and stepping outside. “Whatever. Point is, leave it to us, Elizabeth, and we’ll find you Mr. Perfect.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” she says, pulling her coat tighter as she comes to a stop at her powder blue VW bug. Anticipating the fact that she’d be going home alone, she drove the girls here, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a little bad about it. “Text me in the morning, ladies, and we’ll have lunch.”
The girls nod as everyone else says their goodbyes until only Charlotte and I remain.
Reaching out, I intertwine her hand with mine and glance into her eyes. “It’s late . . .” I say, unsure of what she wants to do with the rest of her night. The idea of spending the night together is something we’ve yet to discuss, so I’m not sure where her head’s at.
“Not too late. The night is still young, Collins.” Charlotte bites her lips, her gaze dipping to my mouth.
I step closer, drawing her in. “What did you have in mind?”
She curls her finger, beckoning me to come closer. I do so, dipping my head until my mouth is merely inches from hers. “Why don’t we go back to your place, and you’ll find out?” she whispers.
A shiver racks through me as I brush my mouth over hers, a promise of what’s to come, then step back quickly and tug her toward the car. “Let’s go!” I shout, practically sprinting across the lot until we reach the Boss with Lettie’s laughter trickling behind me.
Opening her door, I help her get in then slam it closed behind her, before rounding my car and sliding behind the steering wheel. The engine rumbles to life with a roar, and I waste no time backing out of my spot, heading in the direction of my apartment when Lettie’s phone rings.
Still snickering, Lettie glances at the screen, and her expression shifts. A crease furrows her brow as the color drains from her face.
“Who is it?” I ask, concern drumming in my chest.
“The hospital,” she murmurs, and then I watch as she answers the call and her grip on the phone tightens. “Hello?”