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“Are you thinking about becoming one of those boring ass people that swear by monogamy? If that’s the case, I might need to reevaluate our friendship because the last thing I need is a wingman that’s whipped.”
“Who said anything about monogamy? Just ‘cuz I didn’t flirt back with the bartender doesn’t mean that I’m not interested. I’m just… tired.”
He knew me too well, though. Could see right through me on a cloudy day.
The bartender that night was the only girl on staff I hadn’t banged. I had gotten head from behind the bar, had sex in the restrooms, and even had a threesome out back near the dumpsters. If a chick was hot, ready, and willing, I gladly added her to the scoreboard.
But I’d never admitted to anyone, especially Aiden, that I only had eyes for one girl at the moment. Even if that girl was the most unattainable one at Exley. And still, without me saying a word, Aiden knew deep down what was going on behind closed doors.
He chugged the last of his beer and side-eyed me suspiciously. “Since when is The Bedroom King too tired for a hand job?”
“Ahem.”
Aiden and I spun around in our seats to find Isabella sitting down. Her soft, sweet floral perfume was a stark contrast to the overpowering scents sloshed across the rest of the women that were nearby.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I choked out.
Aiden mumbled something before slamming his empty beer mug down and storming away.
“Good game tonight, Blade,” Isabella said, promptly stealing Aiden’s warm seat at the bar.
“Were you in the stands?” I questioned, briefly flirting with the idea that I hadn’t imagined her chanting for me from the crowd. “Did you see my winning touchdown?”
I hated myself for sounding so eager, but I couldn’t help it.
“Yeah, I figured it was time that I started enjoying college life. I can’t remember the last time I went to a game. Your passion for the game really came through tonight.”
“I fucking love football.” And I loved talking about it. “Ever since my dad first showed me how to play, I always knew that I wanted to go pro. I know every young boy says that, but there’s a really good chance it just might happen for me.”
The bartender eyed Isabella suspiciously before serving her a beer.
“Well, it’s definitely your calling in life,” Isabella said. “I’ve never been one for sports, but I have to admit that it was exciting watching you play tonight.”
I wanted so badly to reach out and caress her inner thigh, which was practically begging for my hand. I wanted to take her by the back of the head and pull her into me, wanted to devour her with my mouth right there in front of the crowded bar. But I couldn’t.
“I’d love to teach you all about football, Isabella. You know, in between our studying sessions.”
Two hands slapped down onto my shoulders from behind. The surprise forced a jolt out of me, causing me to spill my beer onto the floor.
“If it ain’t the man himself, Blade Eggleston!”
I couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but I knew he was on the wrestling team. I also knew that he’d tried out for football but couldn’t make the cut. Most guys couldn’t. Anyways, I pretended as if I had known him my whole life. “Hey, bro! Glad to see you here tonight!”
Isabella mentally checked out as the guy sang my praises, rattling on and on about how football just wasn’t in the cards for him. If only I had a violin. I didn’t want to be a dick, but all I could think about was getting Isabella alone, but there wasn’t a chance in hell that was going to happen with the sad sack in front of me.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I watched a woman approach the man, assuming they were an item. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from me. I cocked my head back to Isabella to find her staring at her beer with narrow eyes.
“Sorry about that,” I said with a light chuckle. “Where were we?”
“It’s okay, Mr. Popular. Privacy is a privilege not afforded to the Bedroom King.” She tugged at the seam of her shirt. “Although, this bar is awfully stuffy.”
I chewed into my lip and cocked a mischievous grin. I checked to make sure the coast was clear, that nobody would notice, and grabbed her by her hand to escort her out the back door. A gush of cool air blew in our faces as we walked down the dark alley.
“This is so much better,” I said.
For her part, she didn’t seem to agree. Her eyes wandered suspiciously. I suppose a dark alley isn’t quite the most romantic place to take a midnight stroll. We made our way to the busy sidewalk where drunk revelers struggled to stay upright. Isabella and I walked in silence, wanting to touch each other but unable to out of fear of getting caught.
I wished we had stayed in the alley.
