9 #2
“Sometimes good men have to die,” Drew said solemnly, and Savannah snorted.
Her cheeks were pink and her eyes were happy, and Drew was having more fun than he’d let himself have in a while.
He wasn’t sure if it was the buzz of game day or some kind of primal reaction to Savannah wearing his clothes, but he’d been able to do and say things he wouldn’t otherwise have had the confidence for—like leaning in to read the bracket over her shoulder, even though he could see it just fine from where he sat.
“We haven’t even done barbeque sliders versus buffalo wings yet,” he said, trying not to be distracted by the way her skin smelled from so close.
“True. That’ll be a tough one,” she answered.
Was he dreaming, or did she sound a little breathless when she talked?
The noise around them ramped up, telling Drew the third quarter had started, and he realized he could probably kiss her right there on the bar and nobody would notice unless they were blocking the television. The very thought made his chest tight.
But the possibility felt closer than ever.
“ROLL TI—”
Savannah’s scream of victory was silenced by Drew’s hand over her mouth as he tugged her out of the wave of people leaving the building.
“Are you insane?” he hissed. “You made it clear you’re a traitor during the second quarter. Let’s not make it worse.”
“Eh, I’ve got my fearless protector with me,” she teased, looking up at him.
This was easily one of the best nights she’d had in a long time.
They’d stuffed themselves with fried food, took turns yelling at the television and made a game out of trying to lip-read the conversations of people around them.
Plus, Alabama had absolutely stomped on the Volunteers, which made Savannah the winner of a reward of her choosing. She couldn’t have asked for more.
A pleased sort of smile flickered at the corners of Drew’s mouth, and he looked over her head at the retreating crowd. “Well, I’d try, but I’m no match for an angry mob,” he conceded.
Savannah poked her finger into his sternum. “Depends on who you ask,” she replied.
Drew looked down at her finger before pulling his cell phone from his pocket. The screen was still lit by a new message.
“Who is it?” Savannah asked, not caring that it was none of her business.
He sighed. “Jonah. He’s gonna be a while.”
“No worries, I’ll give you a ride.”
“But you’d have to take me all the way back to Copper Hill and then turn around to come home,” he protested.
Savannah just shrugged. “Honestly, if I go home now, I’ll probably just pop a bowl of popcorn and binge-watch reality television, so it’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Of course!” she insisted. She wasn’t ready for the night to be over. Drew had been flirting with her—she couldn’t even pretend to misinterpret it this time—and it felt like the start of something. Something they hadn’t had before.
“Alright then. If you don’t mind, that would be great,” Drew said, relenting. “Riding with you is better than hanging around the parking lot for another hour.”
“Oh, thanks,” she quipped, rolling her eyes. She pulled out her keys and led the way toward where she’d parked.
“Plus, I’m sure Ryker would love to see you for a minute,” Drew added as he trailed behind.
“Only a minute, huh? Man, I thought he liked me.”
They reached her car, and Drew darted around her to open her driver’s side door. “He does like you. He just doesn’t want you to get tired of him.”
“Oh, I could never get tired of Ryker! He’s the cutest guy I know,” she shot back, sliding behind the wheel. Then, on impulse, she pushed her luck. “His daddy’s not so bad either.”
Drew shut her door and turned away, but not before Savannah caught the grin on his face. He jogged to the other side of the car before climbing into the passenger’s seat. “I’m not his daddy,” he finally said when he’d settled in. “If anything, I’m his roommate.”
Savannah turned her key in the ignition and backed out with a smile. “If you say so.”
“He was watching Food Network!” Savannah exclaimed as she plopped down next to Ryker on Drew’s living room couch. “You can’t tell me you’re not a dog dad when the dog was watching Food Network. I didn’t even know you were letting him in the house!”
Drew sat beside them with a little more grace, stretching one arm across the back of the couch as he did. “He wasn’t watching it; it was just on,” he protested.
“And who put it on?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I like for strangers to think somebody’s home,” Drew explained.
Savannah stared at him skeptically. She didn’t believe that for a minute. “And?” she prompted.
“And because he likes the grilling shows,” Drew mumbled sheepishly.
She bit back a smile. “Andrew. Listen to yourself,” she said seriously. “You are a dog dad.”
At first, he held her gaze without blinking, but then, finally, he caved. “Alright, fine. I’m a dog dad,” he grumbled.
Savannah grinned while she ruffled Ryker’s fur and scratched him behind the ears. “I told him this would happen, didn’t I, boy? Yes, I did!” she cooed. The dog’s tongue hung out of his mouth as he soaked up every second of the extra attention.
Drew groaned loudly and lolled his head back in defeat.
“Don’t worry,” Savannah assured him. “It’s not your fault. It was inevitable.”
Drew stayed quiet for a long moment, and Savannah took the opportunity to look around his living room.
A tall bookcase was full of thick novels stacked every which way; a basket of dog toys stood ready beside an empty wood stove; and an acoustic guitar waited on a stand in the corner.
Her attention paused on the instrument. She knew it hadn’t been out the other times she’d been here.
“Do you play?” she asked suddenly. She didn’t take her eyes off the guitar, but she felt Drew sit up straighter beside her.
“Oh, uh, sort of. Not well,” he said.
Savannah slipped out from under Ryker’s head—ignoring his grumbling—and went to lift the guitar from its resting place.
It was an older acoustic, but it had been well cared for.
The strings looked fairly new, and the body had been polished recently.
She strummed experimentally, and a rich, clear sound drifted through the room.
She turned and held the instrument out. “Show me.”
For the first time all night, Drew looked wary. “Uh, I really don’t play for anybody.”
Savannah went back to the couch and sank down beside him before handing him the guitar.
He took it automatically, and the way he positioned his hands without thinking told her he spent more time with it than he let on.
She’d been around enough musicians to know when someone could actually play an instrument and when they were simply posturing—and Drew knew how to play.
Now, whether or not he would was a different story.
“I won our bet,” she reminded him. “This is my prize.”
Drew’s eyes widened slightly.
“Anything you like,” she assured him quickly. “Just a little. I’ll even go in the kitchen so you can pretend I’m not here.”
Still, he hesitated.
“Please?”
Drew’s clear eyes scanned hers until he finally seemed to make a decision; he let out a long breath and shifted the guitar, his fingers on the strings.
Savannah jumped happily to her feet, and Ryker barked in surprise. “Okay, just act like nobody else is home,” she declared. Then she turned and scurried down the short hall and into the kitchen, where she sat on the floor so the low counters would hide her.
Drew said nothing, and minutes passed with only an occasional chord wavering through the air. Savannah had finally started to think maybe she’d been wrong when the first real bars of music found her ears.
Then came the words.
Savannah clapped a hand over her mouth. Are you kidding me?
! She moved to the wall where the kitchen met the hallway and peeked cautiously around the corner, half convinced Drew had simply pushed play on a Josh Turner CD—but no, the voice was his.
She could see his lips moving, and when his mouth stumbled, so did the song.
She pulled her head back into the kitchen and leaned against a cabinet with her eyes closed.
Drew’s singing voice was deeper than when he talked—rich and smooth, like velvet.
She let the music wash over her. It was a simple song about a simple boy just doing what he’d been raised to do, but it might be her favorite song from now on.
She scrambled back into the living room the second he was finished. “Are you serious?! How did I not know you could do that?” she demanded. She dropped to the floor and leaned against his knees. “Play me something else.”
He looked down at her without answering, his eyes even more intense than usual, and their gazes held. Savannah felt her heart rate kick up a notch. Was she the only one feeling this? The only one noticing how the rest of the world had gone quiet?
Please, a small voice whispered. Please say it’s not just me.
A stray wisp of hair fell across her forehead, and Drew raised his hand and tucked it behind her ear.
The tips of his fingers lingered against her jaw, sending bolts of lightning down the side of her neck.
His free hand moved the guitar to one side, his eyes still on hers, and the space between them seemed to narrow.
And then a telephone rang. Loudly.
Drew jolted backward as if something had shocked him, and Savannah squeezed her eyes closed, a silent scream echoing in her mind. She sat on her heels and wrestled the clinic’s on-call phone from the back pocket of her jeans.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, “I have to answer this.” She pressed a button and turned away, knowing she’d never be able to focus if she kept looking at him. “Hello?”
“Yes, hi. My beagle ate half a bag of Hershey’s Kisses. Is that bad?”
Savannah pressed her lips together to keep from sighing. “How much does your dog weigh?” she asked, automatically starting her mental triage checklist.
When she glanced back at the couch, Drew was gone.