Page 60 of Racking Up Penalties
“Promises, promises,” I shoot back, feeling a strong attraction bubble up within me. He spins me closer, his athletic build evident through the connection of our bodies. There’s a strength in his lead that’s thrilling, his every move deliberate and sure. My laughter rings out, genuine and free, as we move together, the heat between us undeniable.
The song shifts again, slower this time, and Liam is suddenly there.
Ethan tenses up and I’m worried about what’s going to happen. Luckily, Ethan’s phone buzzes in his pocket and when he sees who it is he scowls and leaves me with Liam.
Liam’s lean frame moves in sync with mine. Where dancing with Tristan was electric and with Ethan it was fiery, with Liam, it’s like curling up during a storm. His tousled blond hair falls into his striking gray eyes, eyes that hold worlds of emotion. There’s an intensity to him, a raw edge that makes me want to know everything about him.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice softer than the others’, yet it resonates deeply within me.
“Hey,” I reply, feeling drawn into his orbit, the mixture of strength and softness that he exudes. We sway to the music, and I can’t help but feel protected and exposed all at once.
The bass of the music throbs through the floor, a pulsing heartbeat that sets the rhythm of the night. I’m breathless from dancing, the air tinged with the scent of sweat and sweet alcohol. Liam and I make our way back to Tristan by the bar.
I love that Tristan pulls me tight against his chest and leaves his arm wrapped around me.
Tristan’s friends, a rowdy bunch with jerseys still clinging to their broad shoulders, pull us into their circle with backslaps and cheers.
“Hey, Tessa! So you’re the famous girl Tristan won’t shut up about,” one of them, a guy with a buzzcut and an easy smile, says over the music. His words send a warm flush across my cheeks.
“Is that so?” I tease, glancing at Tristan, whose expression is a mix of pride and embarrassment.
“Can’t blame him,” another chimes in, his grin infectious. “It’s good to meet you finally.”
The camaraderie is palpable and I let myself bask in the glow of being someone important to Tristan. But as laughter and playful jabs continue, I catch sight of Ethan coming back. He nods to Liam, their bodies tense, the space between them charged with silent conflict.
“Everything okay?” I ask, nudging Tristan with my elbow. He follows my gaze and sighs, the lines around his eyes tightening.
“Those two are like oil and water,” he mutters, a note of frustration threading his voice. The usual calm in his deep blue eyes has been replaced by irritation, a storm brewing beneath the surface.
“Should we do something?” My concern is met with a shake of his head.
“Let them sort it out. It’s always something with those two,” Tristan says, but I can tell it’s eating at him more than he’s letting on.
I watch Ethan’s jaw clench, his dark eyes flickering with something sharp and guarded. Liam has his arms folded, the lean muscles in his forearms standing out. They’re a picture of bottled-up emotions, and I’m torn between intervening and leaving them to it.
“Maybe they just need time,” I say, though doubt laces my voice. Time can heal, but it can also allow wounds to fester.
“Or a miracle,” Tristan adds dryly, taking a swig from his drink.
I want to laugh, to brush it off as just another spat, but the tension between Ethan and Liam feels like a crack in the future I want.
“Let’s just enjoy the night,” Tristan says, pulling me back to the present, his hand warm on my shoulder. “We’ll deal with it later.”
“Alright,” I agree, forcing a smile.
Tristan’s friends all move to different areas of the bar and flirt with girls, leaving me with my three guys.
I love that they don’t pay any attention to the woman trying to get their attention. There are lots of them hovering around trying to catch an athlete’s attention.
“Should I grab another round?” Liam smirks at Ethan. “Unless, of course, Ethan’s dad wants to foot the bill?”
Ethan’s smile drops until he looks uncomfortable.
What does Liam know about the dad Ethan hates?
“Actually,” Ethan starts, his voice lower, “he cut me off.”
Shock hits me and Tristan’s hand tightens on my waist, his confusion mirroring my own. But it’s Liam’s reaction that captures my attention; his playful demeanor evaporates, replaced by an intensity that carves deep lines across his brow.
