“Okayyy,” Poppy chimes in, slowly gripping the glass of soda that sits in front of Mae, “I’m just gonna take this away before it ends up on his head.”
Mae’s comment is enough to have me laughing, especially because Riley stands up and announces he’s leaving and doesn’t want to waste another second in our presence. His teammates don’t follow him, though, and his ego seems to burst even more.
That was fucking gold.
“Well, he was a fucking narcissist,” Mae says, letting her head flop back onto the top of the leather booth so she can stare up at the ceiling. She releases a laugh of disbelief.
“Most athletes are.”
I want to ask her if she found Riley attractive. If she was fooled by his phoney charm for even a second. But I keep the lid on my jar of vulnerability.
“Hmm, true. I’ll remember to stay away from athletes from now on.” The comment makes my muscles tighten. “I’ll probably end up married to some businessman or something. Someone who comes home every evening in his suit and tie and blabs on about stocks and boring investments, expecting dinner to be on the table at seven PM sharp.” She groans, rolling her eyes. “I can’t fucking wait.”
My mouth is downturned, distaste sour on my tongue. “Don’t date a businessman, princess. That sounds dull.”
Poppy and the others are distracted by their own conversation, so I use the nickname confidently, finding it funny how Mae’s eyes flicker every time.
“Most men are dull.”
A niggling feeling grows in my chest. All I want to do is lay her down on this table and prove her very fucking wrong. Because if she thinks all men around here are dull, I’ll show her just how dull I can be.
I fiddle with my cap, giving myself something to do with my hands.
Mae will find a man she’ll marry someday.
And they won’t be an asshole NFL star like Riley.
I grind my teeth, unhappy with the direction my thoughts are heading.
Thinking of Mae married to some bland man who’ll probably expect her to cook, clean, and look after the kids while he spends every second of his spare time working bothers me—a lot.
He’ll probably give her shit sex, too.
My sister clears her throat beside us, saving me from my mind. “I’m exhausted. Are you guys ready to go?”
I nod, exiting the booth, and Mae does the same. Poppy beckons Bennett over towards the exit with a tilt of her head, and Mae hangs back with me as I grab my duffel bag.
“Thanks for having my back with Riley,” she says with a small laugh. “I can’t stand men who cheat. It makes zero sense to me, and the last thing I want is to be plastered all over the news as theotherwoman.”
That’s the last thing I want too.
I keep my face neutral, eyes dipping down to her breasts, cupped by her white, lacey cami top, for a brief second before I flick them back up. “No problem.”
Silence descends between us, and I ask her, “Do you like tattoos?”
“Tattoos?”
I nod. “Yeah, on men.” God, I sound like a self-doubting little teenager. “Riley has a bunch.”
Mae tilts her head, humming. “Tattoos are fine. To be honest, I was too busy looking at his shit haircut.”
I roll my lips together, eyes closing for a second as I scoff.
The things that come out of this woman’s mouth.
However, I only allow my mask to slip for a second. I blank my face and stare ahead, focusing on the wall with old bottle caps glued to it to create some kind of strangely unique art piece.
“Oh, he gave me this.” She holds up a small piece of paper with a mobile number written on it, “but I won’t be needing it.” Dropping it into her half-drunk glass of soda, she watches it disintegrate with a small smile.
