Page 89 of Thrown for a Loop
Besides, Chase is almost certainly on the guest list—and my presence would only irritate him.
“That sounds like fun,” I say with a wistful smile. “Maybe another time. I have some prep work to do for my master class. You’re coming, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, Coach!” He unlocks his door and kicks it open.
Just then, the elevator lets out a ding, and we all turn to see who will step out. I’m not quite prepared for the doors to slide open to reveal a hot-as-blazes blond guy who’s got a pretty brunette absolutely pancaked against the richly paneled elevator wall. His hands are bracing her wrists overhead, and his muscular thigh is wedged between hers. They’re making out like it’s their final hour on Earth,and my body temperature climbs several degrees before I can even register that the dude in question is Eric Tremaine.
Ohmy.
For a split second nothing happens, except I watch Tremaine thrust his hips in a way that makes it clear he wishes that clothing had never been invented.
But then Chase leans forward to reach into the elevator, probably to stop the doors from closing again. And then DeLuca clears his throat. Loudly.
Only then do they break apart. Tremaine doesn’t even look startled. He just tugs the woman off the paneled wall with a possessiveness that shouldn’t be a turn-on—but somehow is. Then, without a glance at his teammates, he and his—date? Girlfriend?—stalk toward his door.
Quick as lightning, he produces his key and flings the door open. The two of them are sort of sucked inside the unit in a funnel cloud of sexual tension. The door closes, and then we hear a soft thud—the sound of a woman’s backside colliding with the wood, followed quickly by a female moan.
And here I thought nothing could make this evening any more awkward.
“Huhhh,” DeLuca says slowly. “When’s the last time they…?”
“Dunno,” Chase says, still holding the elevator open. “Couple months?”
“Right on schedule, then.” DeLuca sets the beer down inside his apartment. “You better come over tonight, big man. Either that or charge your noise-canceling headphones.” He nods toward Tremaine’s door and chuckles.
“Good plan.” Chase steps into the elevator and beckons to me.
Snapping out of my haze, I follow him inside. The doors slideclosed, and I’m far too aware of how small this space is. It’s as if Eric Tremaine left a haze of sexual tension behind in this tiny space.
The car seems to descend at half speed, while Chase and I both shift our weight awkwardly and clear our throats.
When the doors open into the lobby, I practically skip out of there. But Chase catches up with me in time to hold open the front door.
“Thanks,” I say stiffly. He always used to do that when we were together. It’s one of the things that set him apart from the other boys I’d met. “My apartment is just on Eighth and Twenty-First. I wasn’t lying about the five-minute walk.”
“I’m sure you weren’t,” he says mildly. But he shakes his head. “Christ, I’m an idiot. Maybe you aren’t even heading home, though. I didn’t think.”
“What? Where else would I go?” I wrap my coat a little more tightly around myself.
He sighs. “Anywhere? This is Manhattan. I’m sure you have a life. Maybe you’re headed to Highlights for a drink with your bartender friend.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, I wish I’d never met him.”
“Why? Did he do something?” Chase growls.
“You were there, genius! He calledmeto get your drunk ass out of the bar, and I ended up enraging a fan and endangering your multimillion-dollar paycheck.”
“Oh, that.” He sighs.
“It’s my fault, though. You know why I gave the bartender my number?”
“Because you have a new thing for beards?”
I glance at Chase’s clean-shaven face and cackle. If it weren’t such a bonkers idea, I’d almost think he’s jealous. “No, it’s worse than that. I got to talking to him, and he told me that you and yourbuddies go in there a lot. Since you weren’t returning my emails, I was kind of desperate to reach out to you. So I asked him if he’d consider alerting me if you came into the bar.”
Chase turns to me with a blue-eyed look of disbelief.
“I know, it’s a little stalkerish. He didn’t like the idea any more than you do. He said he’d take my number and maybe pass it on to you if he saw you. But then, well…” I just let the rest of that lie, because we both know what happened.
