Page 48 of Embers in the Outfield

Willa has bright blue eyes and long, wavy brown hair, with a figure I’d usually drool over. But the only thing I am really doing is looking at her and mentally comparing her to Kennedy, which is a red flag in more ways than one. Too bad Kennedy and I discussed how we’d approach dating while at this party, and we both agreed it would just lead to more questions if we said we were datingsomeone. Knowing Sam, she would sniff it out of one of us before the night was over.

I’m holding the potato salad I was instructed to bring to Samara and extend my hand out. The woman smiles brightly. “It seems Samara finally got us in the same room. It’s nice to meet you, River.”

I try to plaster the kindest smile I can and return the greeting. “I’m glad one of us is in the know. Sam here is great with surprises.”

Sam snorts and it’s a bigger reaction than I expect from her. I look over at my best friend’s wife while she composes herself, who bats her eyes like she’s some sort of matchmaker for the stars.

“I can already see the sparks flying.” She claps her hands together and rushes off before I can protest.

“So, this is probably awkward,” Willa says, although she keeps looking at me like I’m her next meal. Willa is quite bold because immediately following her long perusal of my body, she rubs her hand up my forearm and bicep, squeezing my muscles in appreciation. Kennedy is not going to like this.

As if my thoughts conjured her up, I hear a squeal behind me. I already know it’s Kennedy because she makes the same sound when I catch her off guard and carry her to the bedroom. I look over to find the best friends embracing, then see Kennedy’s eyes find mine once she’s pulling apart from Samara. I see when her gaze jumps to the hand grazing my bicep and watch her face turn to stone. She covers it up quickly by reaching to touch Samara’s belly.

Sam must be filling Kennedy in because while I have my eye on her, that green-gold gaze shoots back up to mine as she sizes up the woman next to me. While I’m sure Kennedy is putting a spell on either me or Willa, Ashton, clueless to the facial assault Kennedy is subjecting me to, hands me a beer and starts making conversation, probably realizing the awkwardness of setting me up at his baby’s gender reveal.

I finally pull my gaze away from the woman I was just inside two hours ago and try to engage myself in the conversation happening around me.

Turns out Willa is studying to be a lawyer, which is hard to find any similarity to as most of my experience with lawyers comes in the form of ambulance chasers.

“So, where are you going to law school?” I ask, hoping to keep the conversation casual, keeping my distance without making Willa too uncomfortable with the fact that I am not interested in that way. At least she’s taken back her hand, not before doingone more squeeze of my muscles and telling me how fit I am. I internally roll my eyes at her attempted advances.

She’s about to answer when she looks over my shoulder, and her expression changes from intrigue to confusion.

“Hey, I wanted to come by and introduce myself. I’m Kennedy, Sam’s best friend.” She plasters a smile across her face, and it doesn’t take a genius to see she’s being completely fake.

“Oh, hi, I’m Willa. I met Sam at the supermarket a few months back, and we’ve become fast friends,” Willa answers, having no idea Kennedy is going to eat her alive.

“Isn’t that sweet.” Her gaze swinging my way is anything but sweet.

Ash must sense the tension and steps away, brows reaching his hairline. I wish I could join him.

“Yeah, Willa was just telling me about law school.” I take a nervous sip of my beer, hoping this nightmare ends soon.

“How cute is this? Don’t you two make the cutest pair,” Kennedy seethes through her teeth. She’s fucking pissed, and I sort of like it. Jealous Kennedy might be my new favorite. Maybe we can fuck the jealousy out of her later.

My smile grows, and I decide to piss her off a little more, probably because I have a death wish, and I reach my beer over to Willa’s glass and clink in cheers.

Kennedy watches my movements, and then something snaps in her.

“It was nice meeting you, Willa. River, always a pain in my ass.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and turns toward the rest of the guests. Then, in a not-so-subtle attempt to make me overhear, she yells over to Sam, “Didn’t you say Brad was coming to this thing tonight?”

A tight smile takes over my features as I feel my blood boil. My plan backfired, and I’m not sure I’ll last without being a dickto Brad. I already know who the guy is. He’s some bigwig exec from Samara’s building who she’s tried to set Kennedy up with for the longest time. For so long, I couldn’t care less, but now, it’s making my eye twitch.

Willa, probably sensing something’s off, pulls my attention back to her. “So I hear you’re a firefighter. How do you like that?”

“I love it,” I say, taking a long swig of my beer and letting my eyes roam the backyard, searching for Brad in the crowd.

The moment my eyes connect with Douchebag Brad’s blond hair, I see Kennedy embrace him. I swear I see him close his eyes and move his face inward to get a smell of Kennedy. She’s mine, fucknut. It’s taking every muscle in my body to stay put.

“How long have you been a firefighter?” I can tell Willa is really trying to get my focus to return to her, but I honestly don’t think I can look away. I pushed Kennedy with my little charade, even if it was minimal, and if I know her at all, she’s going to milk this for as long as she can.

Sure enough, the moment she pulls away from Brad, a huge smile that I thought she only reserved for me is being given to that dick noodle. Then she swings her gaze my way and winks. Fucking winks. I’ll make her pay for that later.

“I’m sorry, Willa. Do you mind if we take this conversation over to that area over there to sit?” I point to an area closer to where Kennedy is standing.

“There’s a couch right here—” she starts, but I’m already grabbing her hand and moving us further into the backyard. At one point, I move my hand to the small of her back, and when Kennedy sees that, I swear she’s going to throw her wine glass at me.

Two can play this game, sweetheart.

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