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“Nope.” Drew’s tone is bland, but his eyes are watchful.
Henry laughs, as if they know each other. I’m not sure that they do. I’ve never seen them exchange any words. Henry ends my suspicion by saying, “Henry Ross. I play midfield on the lacrosse team.”
His gaze shifts from Drew to me. “And here I was, beginning to think you didn’t like guys, Anna.”
“No,” I say lightly, “you got that wrong. I don’t like assholes.”
Henry leans his forearms on the bar and gives me a nasty smile. “I figured you were too uptight to put out.”
Before I can say a word, Drew’s warm hand lands on my nape. It engulfs me, a comforting weight and a support. “Careful.”
He’s not speaking to me. His eyes are on Henry. There’s nothing overtly threatening about his pose, with his other hand resting casually on the counter and his shoulders relaxed. And yet the message is clear. Should Henry make a wrong move, Drew would take him down in an instant.
I don’t need to be protected. But it feels nice knowing that he’s willing.
Henry’s frown is as contrived as his tone. “Careful?”
“Do I need to spell it out for you?” Drew doesn’t raise his voice. The authority of his presence is enough for Henry to look away first.
“You all need to relax. I’m just messing around.”
Aware that Iris is embarrassed, I refrain from calling him on that lie. Drew does as well, but he doesn’t drop his hard gaze from Henry.
“We going out?” Henry snaps at Iris.
“Yes.” She gives us an apologetic look as she takes Henry’s arm and all but tugs him to the door.
“Leave the key,” I say before they get there.
Henry stops, his shoulders stiffening, and turns his head to glare at me. But his gaze clashes with Drew’s, and he simply shrugs before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the spare set of keys. Henry tosses them onto the counter where they land with a loud clang.
As soon as they leave, I lean against the counter with a sigh. “He’s such an asshole.”
“I’m guessing Iris doesn’t see that.” There’s a knowing tone in Drew’s voice.
“I’d like to believe that she’s living in ignorant bliss rather than choosing to be with him with eyes wide open.”
I move to take Drew’s plate, but he reacts first, picking up both his and mine and taking them to the sink.
“Whatever the case,” I say as he rinses off the dishes and I open the dishwasher to tuck them away. “She hasn’t kicked him to the curb.”
Drew leans a hip against the counter. “It happens sometimes to guys on the team. They’ll go out with a girl who is bad news, manipulative, caring only about the fame. Every now and then someone will try to warn the poor sap.”
“It’s sweet that you guys watch out for each other.”
His teeth flash in a quick but tight smile. “Well, it isn’t entirely altruistic. A team is only as strong as its weakest link. None of us like to see a guy laid low by head games.”
Drew’s broad shoulders lift on a shrug. “Not that it matters. Warning a guy about a girl only pisses him off and drives him closer to her.”
“Which is why I grit my teeth and try to steer clear of Henry.”
“I saw him at the party. Is that why you didn’t want to go?”
“I didn’t want to go, because I don’t like parties.” I toss the hand towel into the sink. “Henry being there merely made it that much worse.”
“I’m still glad you were there.” His eyes are liquid caramel, and all thought of Henry melts away in a rush of heat and longing. As if feeling the same rush, Drew’s chest lifts on a breath, and his voice lowers to a rumble. “Show me your room, Jones.”
nine
