“Well fuck. Sounds like I got here just in time.” An amused chuckle interrupts my thoughts.
Speaking of the four horsemen and her tricks.
His voice makes my eyes open and every part of my body snap to attention. I’m seeing far more of him lately than I ever expected to in my life, especially outside of the confines of the screen in a sports bar. But Tobias Westfield is now not only the star wide receiver for the Seattle Phantom but my best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Which means we’re together a lot lately, especially since Xander and Harper are in that honeymoon phase where they can’t stand to be apart for more than a few minutes.
When I look at him his eyes are fixed on me and a smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. My cheeks heat in response, and I can tell the moment he sees it because his smirk only gets stronger in the wake of it. Ihatethe way I react to him. Mostly because I would give anything on this planet not to find him attractive. Seeing less of him would certainly help.
“Don’t you have better places to be?” I look back down at my nearly empty shot glass and drink the final drop just to have something to focus on that’s not him.
“And miss your birthday? No way, Spitfire.”
I should be excited. Fangirling my brains out because I’m a huge Seattle Phantom fan. Have been since I was a little kid thanks to my dad, and these guys are two of my favorite players.
Except you know that saying? Don’t meet your idols. Yeah.That.
Xander might have actually improved now that I know him personally. Everything he’s done for Harper—the way he looks at her, and how kind he’s been to literally everyone in her orbit except her ex who deserved everything he got and then some—has made him seem like some sort of fairytale prince come to life. Or at least one that says fuck a lot and has neck tattoos, but hey… I like that kind for Harper.
Westfield on the other hand is… well. He’s even hotter in person, but more infuriating in almost every other way. We argue about every little thing and can’t seem to find anything in common. It makes these friendly little get-togethers an adventure—one where my attraction competes with my better sense.
The way he’s dressed tonight, all in black with his sleeves rolled up showing his tattoos, two-day-old shadow on his jaw, and a smirk that makes his blue eyes practically glimmer with mischief—well, the wrong side of me is winning. But just give the man a minute. He can ruin anything by opening his mouth.
“What’s in your glass tonight, Spitfire?”
Like when he calls meSpitfire. As if I’m some little girl on the softball team he coaches on weekends.
“Horsemen.” I cough a bit when I try to talk, my throat still burning.
“Oh yeah? Going hard then?” He signals one of the bartenders who happily comes running when she sees who’s summoning her.
“Something like that.”
“Can we get some waters? A round of horsemen shots and then can we get a bottle of Dom up to the table, or do I need to wait and order that there?”
“If you let me know the table, I can send one up.”
Tobias looks to Harper. She explains the location of the table before the bartender nods and hurries off to get started on the shots. When Harper returns her attention to us, Tobias smiles at her.
“So what’s the situation?”
“Xander’s up keeping them busy. When we get back to the table, I’ll explain that I pulled her aside to do a quick birthday shot and then you finally showed up, late but apologetic.”
Tobias nods his assent to the plan.
“Then you just pretend to be her date for the night.”
“Or I could just go home like I wanted to in the first place. And you all can hang out together.” I make one final protest. I know Harper won’t budge, but I can’t help one last attempt to squirm out of this uncomfortable situation.
A moment later, Tobias’s hand is on my lower back, his thumb brushing back and forth while I freeze. His eyes search my face before he smiles.
“We got this. Now do we want to actually make him jealous or are we just toying with him?”
“We’re doing nothing with him. We’re pretending he doesn’t exist. This is humiliating enough. I don’t need any Westfield antics, okay?” I give him a pointed look.
“He doesn’t exist. Got it.”
“We just need to get through dinner and get rid of them. We can go to my place, get cake, and then go to the club. Then we can find some nice gentleman for you to take home.” Harper raises her brows and grins.
“Or we just get cake and then go to bed. I’m in my thirties now, that’s a thing, right?”
