Page 32 of The Defender
“Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t know your leg was there.”
“So you kicked your foot into the air for no reason?”
I shrugged. “I needed to stretch my legs.”
I took a sip of my drink, ignoring Adil’s dramatic moans and Asher and Noah’s knowing smirks.
Whatever they were thinking, they were wrong. I hadn’t kicked Adil on purpose because the way he talked about Brooklyn made me want to tear his head off his shoulders. I certainly didn’t care that he or anyone else might’ve noticed how long her legs were, or how beautiful her smile was, or how her ass was sculpted enough to deserve its own exhibit in a museum.
Like I said, his shin simply got in my way. It wasn’t like I’d kicked him hard enough to injure him.
While Noah and Asher consoled Adil, who pitifully asked for more ginger beer in order to feel better, my mind wandered toward a certain flatmate again.
I’d caught a glimpse of her before I hopped in the shower earlier. We didn’t get a chance to talk, but she’d been all dressed up for…who?
She wasn’t with her friends, at least not the ones I knew. Scarlett was visiting our mother for a “girls’ weekend,” and Carina had a new side gig that required her to work tonight.
Was Brooklyn out with other friends? Or was she on a date?
An unpleasant sensation slithered through my veins. I shifted in my seat, resisting the urge to text her.
There was no way she was on a date. I lived with her; if she met someone, I would’ve heard about it. Right?
“Incoming.” Asher’s voice derailed my train of thought. “I think this one’s for you, DuBois.”
I glanced up to see a leggy brunette sauntering toward us, dressed to kill in a minidress and heels. The outfit was a bit impractical for a pub, if you asked me, but she looked good enough to turn every other head in the place, so I guess it did its job.
Her attention was laser focused on me. She resembled a young Megan Fox, and normally, I’d be into it, but I couldn’t summon more than a passing whiff of interest when she stopped at our table. One puff, and it was gone.
“Hi,” she said breathlessly. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but my family and I are allhugeBlackcastle fans. I know the pub has a no-picture and no-autograph rule, but I just had to come by and tell you that.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, aiming for polite but not flirtatious.
It didn’t work.
She lingered by the table, chatting up a storm about our last match and our prospects for the UCL. I was impressed. She knew her stuff, but when she pivoted and invited me to a club for an “after-party,” I had to decline.
“Sorry, I have to turn in early tonight,” I said. “But it was great talking to you. I hope you have fun at the club.”
Her face fell. She walked away, clearly disappointed.
When I looked at my friends again, they were staring at me with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
“Damn. That was brutal,” Asher said.
“What? I was nice about it,” I said defensively.
“Yeah, but Vincent DuBois, turning down a hot brunette?” Adil whistled. He’d finally recovered from my kick and was back to his usual self. “Are yousureyou don’t have a crush on someone else?”
I sighed. “Stop acting like a twelve-year-old. We’re not in school anymore. Besides, I don’t have a special preference for brunettes.”
“Right.” He nodded wisely. “You like blondes.”
I didn’t dignify that with a response.
“I’m going to grab another drink.” Noah stood. “Anyone want anything?”
“I’ll go with you.” Adil jumped up. “Afterward, let’s do a drive-by and see what the other guys are up to.”
