Page 22 of Ice Rebel

“Maybe we need to resort to something unusual to find your perfect mate.”

Mate. Maybe my buddy didn’t understand the term held an entirely different meaning than he was thinking. Then again, knowing my buddy, the man who would volunteer to become a shifter if possible, that’s exactly what he was thinking.

“I might have someone in mind.” I knew instantly when I’d opened my mouth, Hudson would jump all over it.

“Who?” The grin following the question was followed by him acting like a total jerk, his suave expression only working with the ladies. “Well, fuck. The girl who sang the national anthem.”

A guest stumbled into the kitchen, acting as if he lived in the house, checking every cabinet until he found a shot glass then stealing the tequila bottle.

“She had the voice of an angel, but as your girlfriend?” Hudson didn’t bother waiting until the dude left.

“Don’t say it. She’s way out of my league. It’s all crap anyway. Having a girlfriend isn’t going to calm me down.”

“Maybe not, but it might appease the coach for a little while until you can check yourself.”

Check myself. I knew exactly what the coach was worried about. Additional notoriety by having yet another shifter on his team. He’d already taken his share of crap because of my brother Ford being on the roster. “I’ll think about it.”

His eyes lit up seconds later as if a firecracker had been shoved up his ass, which prompted him to smack his hand on the counter. “I have the perfect solution.”

I winced visibly. “Do I want to know?”

“We’ll hold auditions.”

“Are you crazy?” I wagged my finger in front of his face. “Not a chance in hell.”

He backed away, laughing as he threw his hands up. Yeah, the dude needed to protect his handsome mug because if he wasn’t careful, I’d rearrange his chiseled European nose. “It’s perfect. Me and the guys will do all the hard work and you can swoop in and grade them on a scale of one to five.”

“You asshole.” I punched his arm. “You just want the leftovers.”

“Hey, I don’t have any issues getting a girl.” His eyebrows suddenly furrowed. “What the hell?”

“What?” I followed his line of sight to where he was staring out the window. We both leaned over the counter. “Are those Christmas lights on the ground?”

Hudson snorted. “I think so. What the hell is the crazy son of a bitch doing?”

We both rushed to the front door, completely aware Darren was one crazy son of a bitch when he had a couple of shots of tequila in him.

Backing away, I glanced at the third-floor deck, hoping that was the location where he dropped the lights. Nope. The two girls from before were coaching him, actively pointing to an area on the very steep sloped roof where he should place the lights.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled the words while I grew angry. What a stupid, reckless thing to do.

“What the fuck?” Hudson yelled, which of course drew Darren’s attention. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Darren was slurring his words. This wasn’t going to turn out well. “Can you toss me those lights?”

“Darren. Get down. The roof might be slick.” I knew instantly my tempered warning would do just the opposite.

As a few more guys gathered around, Darren decided to do the unthinkable and sway his hips while doing a little dance.

Not the thing to do. Unfortunately, he was just about to learn a lesson in gravity.

The hard way.

As he flew off the roof, I closed my eyes even as his body slammed against the ground, his anguished grunt cutting through the night sky.

There wasn’t a single one of us who didn’t groan just before Hudson’s announcement.

“Someone call 9-1-1.”