Chapter 8 Brooks
I Kissed A Girl But I Wish It Was Him
If I had to bet on a place where William “The Stiff” Sinclair swore he’d never be, I’d put my money on a nightclub. Too many people, too much noise, and way too much danger for his spotless reputation.
Yet here we are.
I still can’t believe I convinced him to come out tonight.
Our dinner earlier was . . . nice. I don’t know if it was my mom’s moussaka that softened my heart toward Will, or the googly eyes my dad was making at him all evening.
Either way, I find myself more eager by the day to peel back the layers guarding this enigma of a man.
Why am I so invested in learning more about him? He’s kind of fuckin’ mean, but that’s nothing new to me. I get I’m a bit of a brat. I haven’t exactly made his transfer easy. But the more I get to know him, the more he surprises me.
My family seemed to love him, and he was polite enough to appease my mother and sister, which isn’t always easy. Dad was a little star-struck, so I guess that worked in my favor. Will ate everything with a smile and even offered to wash the dishes.
But I could tell something about him was off as the evening went on. Maybe a night out can shake him out of whatever weirdness was clouding over him. The fact that I care this much throws me for a loop, but it’s nothing a shot of tequila or two can’t fix.
As we head toward the VIP section where our teammates wait, my eyes betray me. I steal a glance at the way his chinos hug the firmness of his ass. I smirk at his attempt at “casual.” Not that I’m complaining about the way his collared shirt clings to those sculpted muscles.
My thoughts instantly drift to the other night, when I got to see those muscles bare and slick with sweat. Every powerful thrust of his hips has been on replay in my head since. The way his eyes locked onto mine as we came together.
Fuck. Now my dick is straining against my jeans just thinking about it.
“There he is!” Truett shouts from behind the velvet rope.
I grip Will’s shoulder, guiding him forward. “You ready for a fun night, Sinclair?”
“Don’t make me regret it.”
I chuckle, nodding my head to the bouncer who lets us past the rope. “You should know by now that a night with me is anything but regretful.”
Will just shakes his head, following a step behind me as Truett and Hughesy appear, shots already in hand.
“Bottoms up, boys,” Hughesy grins, pressing a glass of clear liquid into each of our hands.
“I’ll pass,” Will mutters.
My immediate reaction is to give him shit. Truett and Hughesy are persistent, wanting to see our star pitcher let loose a bit. Sinclair, being ever so stoic, politely pushes away his shot. To my surprise, he’s actually being a good sport while my two best friends drunkenly poke and prod at him.
I step between them and Will, taking his neglected shot for myself. “Alright, alright. That’s enough boys. The Stiff here said he’s good.” I throw back both shots without a flinch, relishing the burn as it travels down my throat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Will staring at my mouth. I drag my tongue slowly across my lips just to fuck with him.
Is it just me, or is Sinclair blushing?
He quickly looks away, shoving his hands deep into the front pockets of his chinos. Truett and Hughesy have already lost interest, slipping past the velvet rope in search of a couple cleat chasers.
I lean in, my breath brushing his ear. “Getting shy on me now, Sin?”
“Don’t start.” He pins me with a hard stare—but if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear it’s nothing but liquid heat.
I toss my hands up in mock surrender, a dark chuckle rumbling from my chest. “Relax. I’m just saying, you don’t have to hide from me.”
Will puts some space between us, clearing his throat. “I’m not hiding. This just isn’t my scene. I’m too old for this shit.”
Slinging my arm around his shoulder, I steer us toward the VIP bar. If I can get a little liquid courage in him, maybe he’ll loosen up and have some fun. Something tells me indulgence isn’t Will’s strong suit.
That night between us could’ve been a fluke—a really fucking hot fluke—but a fluke nonetheless. But now, he’s in my head, under my skin, burning me from the inside out.
“You act like you’re fuckin’ ninety years old. Have a drink; get to know the guys. You’re one of us now, whether you wanna believe it or not. That means something.”
Will releases a long breath, stretching his hands behind his head.
Part of his shirt rides up, revealing that smattering of dark hair I’d love nothing more than to run my hands over.
But I need to reel it in. Just because we had one insanely hot night together doesn’t mean he’d want to do it again, no matter how badly I’m dying for a repeat.
“Alright. One drink, War.”
Her body melts against mine as I grip her hips, guiding her into the slow grind of the music.
The sweet scent of her perfume lingers in the air, pulling me in as I bury my face in the curve of her neck.
Her arms slip around my shoulders, locking me closer, and together we move as one with every heavy thump of the bass.
I’m right in the sweet spot of not too far gone, but just loose enough that I’m not seeing double. Every sense is heightened, and I’m loving the way this girl feels in my hands.
But it isn’t her soft skin or tempting curves that send goosebumps racing across my body. It’s a pair of midnight-blue eyes holding me hostage from across the dance floor. Eyes with so much mystery it makes my head fucking spin. And there he is—taunting me.
I don’t know what game Will’s playing tonight. After I bought him that one drink, he’s dodged me at every turn. Yeah, I told him to get to know the guys, but I didn’t expect him to flat-out ignore me.
The way he’s watching me right now only fuels me, though. I think the girl I’m dancing with is named Belinda. Or Linda. Maybe Lisa? Whatever. She’s the perfect distraction from the storm Sinclair stirs in my head.
I sink into the rhythm with her, our bodies moving in sync, but my gaze never strays from his.
Hmm . . . what would happen if I just . . .
With a slow drag of my fingers, I sweep blondie’s hair aside, softly kissing her neck. I watch those midnight eyes darken, and the tight clench of his jaw only sends me further into this hypnotic tether between us. I grip her chin and claim her lips—yet my stare never wavers.
I deepen the kiss, swallowing her moan when I’m suddenly yanked back by the collar of my shirt.
“That’s my fucking girl you’re touching, asshole!” a waspy-looking guy with an uppity sneer shouts in my face.
He cocks his fist, ready to swing. I brace for the hit when Sinclair comes out of nowhere, slamming the guy to the ground.
They grapple in a blur of fists and grunts, until the guy manages to scramble on top of Will.
Belinda-Linda-Lisa screeches for her boyfriend to let go, but not before he lands a clean shot to Will’s mouth. I lunge for him, fingers snagging his shirt, when security barrels in to break it up.
My stomach plummets at the sight of Will’s split lip, blood trickling down his chin. Security tries to grab him, but I shove them back, cupping his face to check for more damage.
“Fuck, Will—are you okay? You’re bleeding.”
His eyes are wild, chest heaving, clothes rumpled from the fight. But when his gaze locks onto mine, my pulse spikes. A dark, consuming possession oozes out of him, crackling the air between us.
For a moment, time stops. My thumbs sweep gently over his cheeks, but then the spell shatters as the crowd closes in, cell phone lights flashing like stars.
Shit.
Will jolts out of it, shoving me back. “Get off of me,” he mutters, before storming through the sea of onlookers.
I chase after him, ignoring my teammates calling out behind me. “Will! Stop!”
He doesn’t even look back, storming toward the exit. “Sinclair! Why are you being an asshole? I was just trying to help.”
He shoves through the door, and I follow, the heavy summer air clinging to my sweat-slick skin.
“Just leave me alone, War,” he throws over his shoulder, stomping down the alley.
He’s halfway down when all the blood rushes to my head, frustration coursing through my veins. Why the fuck did he hit that guy? Was it for me? I need to know. I say the only thing I know that can make him listen.
“You know I didn’t take you for a chicken-shit, Sinclair.”
He stops. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I stand at the end of the alley, slowly stalking toward him. “Was that you trying to defend my honor? Is that why you hit that asshole? For me?” I goad, a smirk curling my lips.
“Honor?” He scoffs. “You call sticking your tongue down the throat of a taken woman honor?”
Well, I didn’t know she was taken. Maybe I let my selfish little game go too far. A wave of guilt ripples through me when I see his mouth starting to swell.
“Then why interfere? Why not let that asshole pummel me if you thought I deserved it?”
We’re a breath apart now, toe-to-toe. The blood from his lip is fresh, shining under a street light. It makes him more beautiful than before, a little disheveled and rough around the edges. Far from his clean-cut persona. It makes me fucking hard.
“We’re teammates. I would’ve stepped in for any of you.”
A sarcastic laugh escapes me. “There you go lying again. You can lie to yourself all you want, but you’re not fooling me.” I swallow hard, pressing my chest against his. “The way you were watching me made it pretty fucking obvious.”
“And what’s that?” Will grits out, jaw tight and fists clenched.
“That you want me.”