Page 1 of Forecheck
You Are My Business, Dickhead
I could think ofa thousand places I’d rather be than at this fucking bar right now.
Visiting the dentist.
Getting a colonoscopy.
Letting my little sister tell me about her sex life.
Watchingmy parents have sex.
Maybe I was acting a little out of pocket. But I hadn’t wanted to come here tonight. The regular season started next week, and instead of damaging my eardrums under the bass-heavy remixes the DJ spun for the mass on the dance floor, I should’ve been home and relaxing. Enjoying my last few days of freedom and downtime until, at the earliest, May.
Instead, I’d come to the bar because my best friend and teammate, Mitch Frambough, had literally gotten down on his knees andbeggedme after practice earlier. Then, the fucker bailed at the last second, stranding me to spend my evening with the fucking rookies.
Okay,strandedwasn’t a good word. I’d only had two beers in the last three hours—the most recent of which having gonewarm in my hand because I nursed the shit out of it—and my truck was in a parking garage down the block.
I could leave at any time, and when one of the rookies let a college-aged girl grip him by the hand and tow him to the dance floor, leaving me standing all alone at the bar like a fucking loser…I’d had enough.
I signaled the bartender to close out my tab, drumming my fingers on the bar top as I waited.
“Oh, my God, you’re even hotter in person.”
At the feminine voice from behind me, I internally groaned, and outwardly stiffened. I wasn’t in the mood for this, didn’t have the energy to deal with a fan throwing herself at me. Still, I was a nice guy, so I plastered on a terse smile—which felt more like a grimace—before turning.
And found myself staring into the brightest blue eyes I’d ever seen.
Eyes that belonged to the girl who had captivated my attention earlier and had yet to let it go.
Shewas the only reason I’d stayed here so long.
The first time I’d seen her tonight, it was like the crowd on the dance floor had parted in slow motion, revealing this petite girl moving in the middle of the throng, hands raised, worshiping the music without a care in the world. Her unbound hair had bounced against her back, the bright blonde waves catching the flashing lights as she moved. It had been a beacon to my soul. As if something inside me had awoken and said, “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
Our gazes held for several long moments as I searched for something to say. Her eyes were glassy, and I wondered if her drunken state had urged her to approach me, or if she still would have had she been sober.
“And you’re just plain hot,” I finally blurted, shooting her a cheeky wink.
“You noticed me?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, that curtain of golden hair spilling down one arm.
I chuckled, then gestured to her person from head to toe. “Hard not to.”
The girl’s lips pursed as though she didn’t quite believe me, and I didn’t miss the way she glanced over her shoulder. I followed her gaze across the bar, to a tall brunette girl standing against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, eyeing us warily.
“When she’s around, I sort of fade into the background,” Blondie explained. “I love her to death, but it’s hard for me to compete with…all ofthat.”
My eyes darted back and forth between them. Objectively speaking, her friend was hot. She had to be close to six feet, her long legs fully on display in a pair of obscenely short shorts, chest propped up in a white corset top, lengthy brown hair unbound and falling nearly to her waist.
Only, even from here, I knew she wasn’t my type. Five years ago? Hell yeah, I would’ve been all over that. She would’ve been exactly the kind of woman I’d have gone for—tall, thin, model good looks, had an air about her like she’d be fine with one night together before going our separate ways and never speaking again.
But this wasn’t five years ago, and I wasn’t that man anymore.
No, these days, this sexy little blonde in front of me was much more my speed.
Blondie stared at me curiously, watching me watch her friend, eyebrows pinched together as she awaited my response.
So I stepped closer and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Trust me,” I said, my breath fanning the wisps of hair flying around her face, “it’s not a competition. I’ve been thinking about you since I saw you dancing earlier, hoping I’d get the chance to meet you.”
Even under the lowlights of the bar, I didn’t miss the blood rushing to her cheeks, turning the apples pink.
