Page 81 of Blocked Score

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SCARLETT

“Her? She looks like a grad student. She’d eat our boy alive.”

“Maybe that’s what he needs. Someone to take control.”

Jamie rolls his eyes at Sebastian and Tuck as they’re putting their heads together to determine which girl here in the nightclub they should force him to hit on.

The place we’re in is called Starlite, and it’s by far the most upscale bar or club in town. It’s a really fun place to have an excuse to look your best and feel glamorous, though you pay for the privilege with the eye-watering price of the drinks.

One of the guys on the team procured a fake ID to get the twenty-year-old sophomore into the club. Since getting here, Tuck and Sebastian have been obsessed with the idea of giving Jamie hands-on lessons on how to approach and chat up girls, something that rumor has it he’s not the most skilled at.

It’s hard to believe at a glance, considering Jamie’s boyish good looks, curly dark-blonde hair, and golden retriever energy. But then again, he does give off shy vibes, and I think he’s blushed every time I’ve talked with him, so who knows.

“Would you two leave Jamie alone?” I call, nestled under the crook of Lane’s arm while I overhear this conversation. “If he wants to save himself for the right person, that’s his choice.”

“Look, we’re not saying Jamie needs to lose his V-card tonight,” Tuck retorts. “But he does need to start getting better at talking to women.”

“Trust me,” Sebastian chimes in, “if you’d seen him fumble girls at parties as many times as we have, you’d be pushing for an intervention, too.”

Tuck nods solemnly. “If I get to graduation without having helped cure one of my beloved teammates of their total lack of game, I could never forgive myself.”

“Hudson!” Tuck calls to get the goalie’s attention. He and Summer are also out with us, as well as Olivia and Harper. Rhys and Maddie, though, are in Burlington because some band they’re both into is having a concert there.

“What now?” Hudson grumbles, approaching the trio of Tuck, Sebastian, and Jamie, with Summer by his side.

“Which girl should Jamie try to talk to?” Tuck asks.

“How the hell should I know?”

Summer lets out a beleaguered sigh like she’s a preschool teacher wrangling a bunch of her rowdy students.

“You boys are hopeless,” she says. Her eyes scan the dancefloor. “That girl over there. She’s open to a guy approaching her, and she looks nice. Come on, Jamie, we’ll dance together near her and I’ll facilitate an introduction,” she winks at the bashful sophomore.

When Summer wraps her grip around Jamie’s wrist, his ears instantly go red. His whole face is like a big cherry as Summer pulls him into the crowd on the dancefloor, and they disappear into the sea of bodies.

Hudson chuckles, shaking his head amusedly as he watches them. Though Hudson’s definitely the jealous type, he’s notbothered by how obvious it is that Jamie’s got a little crush on Summer.

Lane steps back from the bar with our drinks. After handing me mine, he curls his long, corded arm around my waist and tugs me close. I take a sip of my drink and immediately feel light-headed, not because of the alcohol, but because Lane’s just started to trace circles on my hipbone with the pad of this thumb.

He looks delicious tonight in a pair of fitted slacks and a button-up shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing the healthy glow and broad expanse of his muscled chest.

I scan the bar to look for Harper. I spot her at the edge of the dancefloor. There’s a guy in a polo shirt and jeans bending to say something into her ear. A small smile curls on her lips and she says something back.

While I’m watching this play out, Sebastian appears in front of us. “Check out that doofus,” he says.

“Huh? Who?” I ask.

He folds his arms over his chest, his eyes beaming in Harper’s direction. “That guy in the polo shirt.” He huffs a derisive laugh. “Polo shirt and jeans. Are you kidding me?”

I’m pretty sure I saw Sebastian wearing a polo shirt with jeans, like, three days ago, but I keep that memory to myself.

I set my drink down on the table behind us and go to use the bathroom. When I come back out, something stops me in my tracks as I’m walking back to where we were all hanging out.

There’s a girl in front of Lane. And even from this distance, I can see the hunger and appreciation that lights in her eyes as she looks at him like he’s a tall drink she wants to slurp up.

Lane stands with his arms at his sides and his shoulders stiff, but her body language is so obviously begging him to make a move that she might as well be audibly saying, “Fuck me, please.”

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