Page 40 of Through the Flames
A man I’d definitely like to take for a little joyride, but what were the chances of that happening?
Still. Something in my stomach coiled tight, just a little. Hunter was so pretty — strong, masculine jawline, sharp gray eyes and tousled dark-blond hair — it was fucking unfair.
Even his damn scowl worked for him.
Leave him alone. He doesn’t want you talking his ear off.
Knox, who was still sitting next to me, finally noticed him and muttered under his breath, “Damn. Didn’t thinkhe’dshow.”
Yeah, no kidding.
After quietly greeting some of his teammates, getting a drink, and rejecting any offers to take a seat, he simply took up residence in the very same spot again.
Leaning against the side of the booth behind me, but offset enough so I was able to see him in my periphery.
I kept thinking I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I knew for a fact it was just my imagination running wild.
“I’m gonna go get another drink!” I announced to the table. “Anybody else need anything?”
Mercifully, all of them declined. I was a generous person, but my tip money was already gone, and I wasn’t really swimming in the green stuff.
Forcing myself not to shoot a quick glance Hunter’s way, I bowed my head and slunk past him, heading for the bar.
Elbows braced on the slightly sticky wooden bar, I flagged down a bartender.
“Hi! Could I please have another one of these?” I shook the empty can in my hand for clarification, the last sip of liquid sloshing around in the bottom.
“Sure thing.”
As I was rummaging in my pockets for the pitiful rest of my cash, I felt someone sidle up to me. Nothing unusual, considering it was pretty packed tonight.
The bartender set the can down in front of me, and just as I was about to hand her the money, a hand cut in front of me, wielding a credit card.
“Put it on my card.”
The voice was unfamiliar, and when I swung my head to the side, I was almost eye-to-eye with a pretty decent-looking guy. Why, hello.
“Oh no, you don’t have to—”
“It’d be my pleasure.”
The bartender still hadn’t made a grab for the plastic. Instead, she was watching the guy with a smirk tugging at the corner of her lip, and her brows quirked in amusement.
“Sorry to burst your bubble here, lover boy, but you’re too late.”
He gaped at her in disbelief. “How? I was right here the entire time?”
Inwardly I cringed. This wasn’t a good look on him.
“Too late?” I echoed, nose scrunched in confusion.
“Yup. Your drink’s already been paid for,” she said, completely ignoring the dude next to me, and made to turn away from us.
“Hold up. Who paid for my drinks?”
“Some dude from over there.” She pointed vaguely at the booth. “Big. Looked like a football player.”
Cool. That totally didn’t describe all the dudes around the table over there.
