Page 8 of The Draft
He raised his hands and backed away from the table, so they were resting on his seat. “Then I wouldn’t mess with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ve heard things about your brother.”
“What kind of things?”
“Well, first, I heard he cage fights.”
“False.”
“Then how’d he get that scar on the top of his eyebrow?”
“Me. When I was twelve, he pissed me off, so I threw a puck in his face.”
“What about the scars on his knuckles?”
“Also me. I accidentally ran over his fingers with my dirt bike when he was fourteen.”
“Well, damn. Now I won’t go near you for the sole reason thatyoumight kill me.”
“Don’t worry, D. She has no interest in us. She wants Dash Bridges.” Adam couldn’t be any less subtle if he tried.
I immediately looked down at the table and covered my face in embarrassment. “Could you be any more obvious?!”
Devin laughed, throwing his head back. “Oh wow. Now, this just got good. The goalie?”
“Yup,” I grumbled out, feeling like maybe it was a mistake to confide in these guys. I didn’t know them after all, but there was no one else to talk to, and maybe it was good to get an athlete’s perspective. “But he’s not interested.”
“Oh, he’s interested,” Adam interrupted. “Don’t look now, but he’s currently cracking his knuckles so much, I’m surprised his fingers are still connected to his palm.”
“Really?”Tone it down, M.“Good to know,” I said with less enthusiasm as I pushed my ponytail to the side. I could be cool and calm when I wanted to be.
“Wanna see if we can get him to admit his feelings for you?” Adam asked with a grin sprawled across his face.
“And how do you propose we do that?”
Adam and Devin looked at each other and smiled. “Easy. Like this.”
Without another word, Devin slid his chair closer to mine and draped his arm around the back of it. In this position, I could smell his woody cologne. Spicy with a hint of pine, it made me wonder how delicious Dash might smell if I were ever able to get this close to him.
The music cut out in the switch of songs just as Devin dropped to whisper something in my ear. “I think it worked.” That was all he said before the loud, booming grumble of my goalie took over.
“That’s it,” I heard Dash say, but I couldn’t see what was going on sinceI was facing the wrong direction. Adam's grin dropped.
“What’s happening?” I asked, and before he could respond, I had my answer.
Adam held his hand out and stood. “Hey, Dash. Long time, no see. What’s up?” Dash took his hand and they bro-hugged for all of two seconds because it was obvious Dash wasn’t interested in pleasantries with Adam. His eyes were firmly narrowed in on me.
Dark, beady, and threatening, he was looking at me like I was a bad, bad girl and he wanted to teach me a lesson or two.
God, why did the idea of that send tingles straight to my core?
Adam gave me a side glance and winked. His way of telling me he was right, I assumed.
“Dash,” I said, flitting my hand in his direction, pretending not to care. “Everything okay? Looked like you were having a good time with Sienna.”
Devin’s hand dropped to my side, and all of Dash’s attention focused on that paw of a hand. With a pinched expression, he wouldn’t stop looking at the fingers resting on my hip, and after a few seconds, when Devin’s hand moved, Dash huffed out an annoyed breath.