Page 7 of Game On
“Well, now you’re enjoying my company. Much better, isn’t it?”
He tilts his head, his voice a rough murmur. “Infinitely.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, nibbling on it inan attempt to rein in the incessant fluttering. Those gray eyes track the movement, and heat surges in my core at the intensity of it all.
To cool myself down, I take a slow, measured sip of my drink. But in an embarrassing turn of events, I cough and the liquid spews out, dribbling onto my chin.
He laughs. “Well, that was sexy.”
My cheeks flush as I hastily wipe away the peach and bourbon, setting my glass on the rail beside us. So much for being bold. “You liked that, did you?” I ask, attempting to save face.
“Sure did,” he says, his voice a low rumble. His hand comes up to cup my face, and his fingers gently tilt my chin until our eyes meet. Up close, his are a striking shade of slate gray, and they seem to pierce right through me. “I’m not opposed to you getting a little … messy.”
“Then you should see my bedroom back home.”
He lets out a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’d bet it’s immaculate.”
“You’d lose that bet nine times out of ten,” I say with a grin. His hand is still resting on my face, thumb brushing my skin gently. It feels good, equal parts soothing and electrifying. I raise my brows at him. “So, how messy is yours?”
What compels me to ask the loaded question, I don’t quite know. Maybe it’s the twinkle in his eyes, or the warmth of his touch, or the fact that he’s just so disarming. A Southern stranger that’s managed to captivate me in a matter of minutes.
I shouldn’t even be thinking about this. My heart is stillbruised, and my guard? Well, it’s up for a reason. But maybe a little fun wouldn’t hurt. Isn’t that what Nashville is for—leaving the past behind, even if only for the next twelve months?
He clears his throat, glances at his watch, and then, “You know, I don’t do this very often, but would you want to see it for yourself?”
My heart falls into my stomach. “What, like right now?”
He nods, a sly smile on his lips. “Yeah. Like right now. I could give you a ride back to my place.”
I glance over at the bar, where Gabi and the rest of the team are still playing our game. My mind races, weighing the consequences. “I don’t know if I should.”
Part of me screams to say yes, to take a chance and see where this unexpected connection might lead. Another part of me urges caution. But as I look back into his eyes, that twinkle and warmth still drawing me in, I realize I’m not ready to let this moment slip away.
“No?” he asks, placing a gentle hand on the crook of my elbow. It’s another bold move, a physical gesture that tells me he’s genuinely interested. And I find that I quite like it, being touched by him. “You don’t strike me as the type to worry about judgment.”
“And how would you know?” I challenge. “You don’t even know my first name.”
“Do I need to?”
My jaw drops, heat flooding my cheeks. “I—I suppose not.”
My heart’s pounding now. This isn’t what I do—I don’tjust leave bars with strangers, no matter how incredibly handsome they are. But then again, I’ve never had the opportunity to do so before.
Since as far back as I can remember, there’s always been Jamie. A thought that hits me like a tidal wave. But I can’t let it wash me under, not now.
The perfect man extends his hand, an unspoken invitation. I hesitate for another split second before a grin spreads across my face and I take him up on the offer.
As we walk through the small car park together, hand in hand, I pull out my phone to send a quick text to Gabi. I let her know that I’m leaving with some guy I just met. And then, for good measure, I snap a picture of his license plate.
“Could I have your ID?”
He stares at me, scrubbing a hand over his stubble. “You want a picture of that, too?”
“Safety first.”
Fishing in his coat pocket, he hands me his driver’s license. “How responsible of you.”
I take a cursory glance, sending both pictures over to my roommate. “Hudson Fox, is it?”
