Fair Play (L.A. Phantoms #6)

Chapter 1

Billie

There’s nothing like a girls’ night out.

Unless the girls you’re with are mean and the club is pretentious and the drinks cost a fortune.

Not to mention, every guy in the place seems to be some kind of poser—actor, model, or musician-wannabes wearing too much after shave and not enough deodorant.

I love to dance but the scene at this club is a bummer.

Not to mention the attitudes of my roommates.

“Hey, sweetheart—wanna dance?” The guy in front of me can barely stand up and he’s so drunk his eyes are half-closed.

“No thanks.” I give him a friendly smile and start to turn away, but he grabs me by the shoulder and whirls me back around.

“I asked you to dance!” he snarls.

I step to the side and snarl right back, “And I said no , thank you.”

“Think you’re too good for me?”

I roll my eyes. “I think I’m too sober for you.”

“Come dance!” He starts to tug on my arm but I dig my heels in and wrench my arm free. My older brother plays pro hockey and he’s taught me plenty of ways to defend myself against unwanted advances.

“I said no!” I yell, hoping to draw some attention from the bartender.

“Little bitches like you say no even when you really mean yes.” He yanks me up against him.

Ew. Gross.

“I promise—this is a genuine no.” I push at his chest, and when that doesn’t work, dig the heel of my stiletto into his foot.

“Ow!” He yelps and lets me go, hopping on one foot. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” I counter. “ No is a pretty simple word. Go ask someone else.”

“Now you owe me one, you stupid?—”

“The lady has said no repeatedly.” A deep voice startles me, and I turn in surprise. “I suggest you move along.”

Sweet Jesus, whoever he is, he’s tall and broad-shouldered with really pretty eyes.

“I just wanted to dance with her,” my wanna-be paramour whines, still nursing his foot.

“And she said no.” My savior has his back to me so I can’t see his face anymore but now I have a view of a great ass.

“Geez, whatever, man.” The drunk guy finally ambles off and I let out a sigh of relief.

I can take care of myself for the most part but sometimes it’s a hassle.

Which is why I didn’t want to come here in the first place.

But my roommates insisted. I’m trying to have a good time, pretend like I fit in, but it’s been impossible so far.

“Thank you,” I say, touching my savior’s arm.

He turns and I stare into a pair of deep blue eyes.

Holy crap, he’s hot. In an older, mature kind of way. His brown hair has a touch of gray at his temples, and there are a few strays in his short beard. But he looks like one of those men who probably just gets better looking as they get older.

“You okay?” he asks in that gruff voice that puts my wannabe-assailant in his place.

“I’m fine.” I smile. “But I appreciate you stepping in. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“I was trying to mind my own business, but when you tried to impale him with those heels and he still grabbed you, I figured it might be time to say something.”

“I appreciate it.” I glance up at him and despite his friendly demeanor, I see a trace of annoyance in his eyes.

Interesting.

“Have a good night.” He starts to turn away and I gently reach for his arm.

“You want to dance?”

He doesn’t even think about it before shaking his head. “Dancing isn’t really my thing.”

Figures.

“Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying.” I smile. “Thanks again.”

Now he hesitates, like my response wasn’t what he expected.

“What?” I ask, lifting one eyebrow when he doesn’t move. “Didn’t we just agree that no is no? Did you expect me to beg or something?”

“Yeah, we did say that.” He scratches his chin. “And no, I definitely didn’t expect you to beg.”

“It’s okay. I’m probably going home anyway—my friends are…unfriendly.”

This time he’s the one who arches a brow. “Then why are they your friends?”

“Because I needed a cheap place to live and I found them on a message board at school.”

“How old are you?” he asks, his eyes suddenly narrowing like he’s worried.

I chuckle. “Twenty-two. I’m finishing college, and life in L.A. is expensive, so I’m sucking it up with the shitty roommates.”

“I hear that.” The expression on his face tells me his thoughts are far away, and that he’s a man with a lot on his mind.

“You know… I would never beg , but I wouldn’t be mad if you changed your mind about a dance. They play a slow one every six songs, and this is number five.”

His gaze shifts to mine and I see the uncertainty there, making me wonder if he’s married or something.

“Unless you’re taken,” I add quickly.

He shakes his head. “No, nothing like that. Totally single. I was just ready to leave. But yes—if the next one is slow, I’ll dance with you.”

I almost laugh because he makes it sound like he’s doing me a huge favor.

And maybe he is.

He’s handsome and isn’t pawing at me, but his presence means other guys will leave me alone.

“What’s your name?” I ask curiously.

“Rome.”

“Rome.” I repeat it slowly. “You look like a Rome.”

“Yeah?” Those blue eyes darken slightly. “What does a Rome look like?”

“Well, in your case, strong and powerful, with a commanding presence, reminding me of the Roman Empire.”

He’s quiet for a beat and then throws back his head and laughs. “I don’t think anyone’s ever compared me to the Roman Empire before, but I like it. What’s your name?”

“Billie.” I extend my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“That’s a pretty name.” He shakes my hand just as the song ends and, as predicted, a slower song comes on.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Sure.” He allows me to lead him onto the dance floor and I’m surprised that such a big guy is light on his feet.

I’m five feet nine and wearing four-inch heels, so he has to be six three or four.

And I’m a sucker for a tall guy.

Especially one with muscular arms and a great butt. His hands are warm but gentle as they circle my waist and I move closer. I can’t remember the last time I asked a guy to dance, but there’s something about him that’s pulling me in.

Intriguing me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever asked a guy to dance before,” I muse as we move.

“No?”

“I really don’t do clubs. I’m too busy with school and stuff. I’m just trying to fit in with my roommates.”

“How many are there?”

I wince. “Four.”

“There’s five of you living together?”

I nod. “I know, it’s kind of a bummer, but the good news is that I have my own room. It’s technically not supposed to be a bedroom—it’s more of a den but they added a curtain and I’m saving up to buy a row of bookshelves to block off most of the opening so I’ll have a modicum of privacy.”

“Are you paying one-fifth of the rent?”

“I’m paying a bit less since I don’t even have a closet, but it’s really cheap so it works for me.”

“How much longer do you have until you graduate?”

“June.” I pause, wrinkling my nose. “But I’m in a special program where my classes my senior year count toward a master’s degree too. I might be a bit of an overachiever.”

“I can tell.” He doesn’t seem annoyed by it, though, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Is that a veiled insult?” I tease, enjoying the feel of his strong body against mine.

“Not at all. Smart women are extremely attractive when you get to my age.” He pauses. “Although I’m pretty sure I would find you attractive at any age.”

Is there any universe where I go home with this guy?

Maybe.

I’m not usually the one-night stand type but I might make an exception for my Roman emperor.

“Rome, let’s bail!” A tall man with dark hair comes over and claps him on the shoulder. “We’re going to eat.”

Invite me.

I glance up but he’s looking at his friend. “Yeah, let me just finish this dance,” he tells him.

The guy nods and moves away and Roman looks down at me. “Thank you for the dance. I enjoyed it.”

Damn. He’s giving me the brush off.

Oh well.

He’s probably too old for me anyway.

“I did too,” I whisper.

Our eyes meet and lock, as if nothing else exists for a beat. Then the song abruptly comes to an end and the moment is lost. To my surprise, he reaches for my hand and draws it to his lips.

“Have a good night, Billie,” he says, soft firm lips pressing a gentle kiss to the back of my hand.

“You too.” I stare after him, my hand still tingling from where he just kissed it.

What would those lips feel like on mine?

Too bad I’m never going to find out.