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“Sup, Burnham?” Connor tips his chin to Ollie, barely diverting his gaze from me.
Ollie doesn’t answer, choosing to glare at him instead.
Connor chuckles, completely unbothered by the beast to my right. Or maybe he’s too drunk to realize that Ollie is a threat. I’m starting to wonder what I ever saw in the star football athlete. Those traits that were charming before have been obnoxious lately.
“You ready to go, gorgeous?” Connor asks me, ignoring the fact that we just had this conversation.
I bat my eyelashes at him. Meanwhile, my skin is crawling where his thumb is stroking my wrist as I remember the way Ollie overheard him speaking about me earlier.
“Where do you want to go, stud?”
He steps closer, crowding me into the bar. Ollie’s chest is still pressed into my shoulder. The two men have me sandwiched, but it isn’t sexy. I can feel the tension radiating off Ollie.
“Back to my place,” Connor suggests.
I think it’s supposed to be a question, but he isn’t really asking. He’s persuading me. He’s using all those hidden charms and that sexy playboy smile to convince me. They have zero effect on me at the moment.
“Not happening,” Ollie growls unnecessarily.
Connor whips his gaze to the hockey player like he just remembered he was here and narrows his eyes. “I wasn’t asking you, player.”
“Well, I’m telling you … player.” Ollie’s tone is straight ice, and I start to worry that this is going to escalate quickly.
I pull my hand from Connor’s hold and press my palm against his chest. He doesn’t move, even when I push. I sigh, deciding to cut to the chase in hopes of defusing this situation.
“I’m not leaving with you tonight, Connor. But I think there’s a brunette across the room who might be game.”
He glances back at the woman who’s still standing with Ricky. The same one who’s currently shooting darts at me with her eyes.
His responding smirk solidifies my resolve. But when he faces me again, he wipes his expression clear. “I’m not interested in any brunette.” He fingers a piece of my hair. “Not when I can have a blonde.”
Ollies slides his arm around my waist and pulls me back against him possessively. A thrill shoots through me from his nearness at the same time my anger spikes at being manhandled.
“This blonde isn’t an option for you,” Ollie spits.
Connor’s mood turns from lighthearted and flirty to venomous instantaneously. “What the fuck, Burnham? Why are your hands on my girl?”
“I wasn’t your girl about an hour ago, right?” I banter before Ollie can answer.
Ollie’s meddling is annoying me, but my main target is still Connor. I can deal with my old friend later.
Connor narrows his eyes, trying to read me.
“Take a hike, Carlson,” Ollie growls.
And for ninety-nine percent of the student body on campus, Ollie’s tone and the underlying threat beneath his words would be enough to have them running away. But Connor isn’t impressed by Ollie’s celebrity. He’s just as muscular and big as the man with his arm around me. And just as competitive. He’s ready to fight for his toy. I’m the toy.
“I don’t think I will,” Connor says, cracking his knuckles.
Ollie drops his hold on me and steps forward. The two men are nearly chest to chest. My pulse accelerates as my eyes widen. I don’t want them to fight.
Ollie keeps me back with his arm when I attempt to step in between them. I huff in frustration because I’m not strong enough to get around him.
“Then, I guess I’ll have to make you,” Ollie promises.
I’ve seen Ollie fight before. It doesn’t happen often, but it isn’t pretty when it does. He’s stubborn, like me, and hot-tempered. And he won’t back down.
“I guess you will,” Connor says, rising to the challenge.
