We talk about football for a while and a steady stream of our teammates trickle past. Everyone’s feeling bullish about the upcoming game against Wisconsin, and by the time the server brings a fourth round of drinks, rubbing up against Coop with all the subtlety of bulldozer, it’s clear he’s done shooting the shit.
“Time to break up this sausage fest—no offense,” he says, turning to Carter with a flirtatious grin.
She shakes her head and throws up a hand. “None taken.”
And just like that, Coop disappears into the writhing crowd on the dancefloor.
No sooner has he vacated his seat than a guy wearing Greek letters slides into it. I’ve seen him around on Greek Row. I don’t know his name, but I know he’s got too much product in his hair, an arrogant grin I’d like to wipe off his face, and a reputation for being a player.
I don’t like the way he’s looking at Carter.
“Hey,” he says, directing the greeting to her like the rest of us are invisible. He’s got balls, I’ll give him that much. “You’re Kennedy, right? I think we had a class together last spring.”
Bullshit. If this guy’s an engineering major, I’ll eat my helmet.
Kennedy scrunches her brow like she’s trying to place him. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”
Probably because it’s a lame-ass pickup line.
“Landon,” he says, flashing that shit-eating grin again.
“That seat’s taken,” I say, taking a lazy sip of my beer and leveling him with my eyes. “Landon.”
He puffs out his chest like those Greek letters mean shit. “Looked empty to me.”
“Honest mistake,” Parker says with a shrug. He shifts in his seat, crowding the newcomer with his massive body. “But you should probably move along before our buddy comes back. He gets a little short-tempered when he’s been drinking.”
Total lie. The only thing Coop gets when he’s been drinking is horny.
Landon’s gaze slides from Parker to me. “No worries, man. I just wanted to catch up with Kennedy. I’ll see you around.” He abandons the chair and gives her a curt nod before returning to his friends a few tables over. They break out in raucous laughter, slapping him on the back and throwing bottle caps at him, probably assuming Carter shot him down.
“What the hell was that?” Carter demands, glaring at me. She’s pissed. And I get it—sort of—but no way was I letting that douchebag get within a mile of her.
“Just looking out for you.” Parker drums his fingers on the table. “We’re good teammates like that.”
Carter rolls her eyes. “I didn’t see you pulling that shit on Coop.”
“Yeah, well, that’s Coop,” I say, hating how it sounds like a double standard. Difference is, Coop plays it straight with his hookups and there’s no chance of him getting hurt. “Besides, I wouldn’t let my sister near that guy.”
Her eyes widen. “You have a sister?”
“No, but if I did—”
“You’re all being ridiculous.” Carter throws up her hands. “He probably just wanted to ask me to dance.”
Yeah, right. The horizontal mambo. “You can thank me later. The guy’s a douchebag.”
She smiles sweetly, and I know I’m about to get a dose of sexy-as-hell sarcasm. “And what do you call chasing off the only guy with the nerve to come over and talk to me?”
Before I can come up with a witty reply, Vaughn cuts in. “I’m pretty sure Landon’s dating a Tri-Delt. Better not to get mixed up with a guy like that. I doubt he knows the meaning of the word ‘respect.’”
“Exactly.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in my chair, admiring the flush in Carter’s cheeks. I’ve never enjoyed getting under a woman’s skin as much as I enjoy getting under hers.
“Well, this has been fun.” Parker stands and drains his glass. “But I gotta see about a girl.” He slips into the crowd, leaving Vaughn and I alone at the table with Carter.
“Do you dance?” Carter asks, careful to direct the question to Vaughn. She’s been doing that all night. Avoiding my gaze. Not talking to me directly if she can help it.
It’s driving me fucking crazy.
