At Fitz’s question, a cloud passed over Finn’s face.
“What’s that about, Finnegan? You look like you want to smash something,” I said, grateful to have a chance to put the spotlight on him.
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
A surge in the crowd noise drew our attention back to the field where Callahan O’Reilly, star tight end, caught a pass over the middle and turned it up field. His play put us in field goal range and gave the offense confidence. The electricity that had run through the team when Finn and I were busy sacking the quarterback in the first half resurged with ’Han’s big offensive play. We were on our feet, joining the rest of the team in cheering the offense to another score.
Though the Hornets held us to another field goal, at the end of the day, it was enough. In the second half, they scored thirteen points to our three, but since they’d spotted us twelve in the first half, we won the game 15-13 and were moving on to the semifinals.
When we headed to Stromboli’s to start our post-game celebration, we were all in a great mood. But more than the win sizzled my blood. Piper had said she’d be there. I hoped she wouldn’t stand me up.
Chapter Fourteen
Piper
Though Wyatt spenttoo much of the game sending me blazing looks that left my core hot and heavy, by the final whistle, I was freezing. The alcohol we’d added to our hot chocolate at halftime and the blanket Saylor had stolen from one of her frat brothers helped, but the drop in the temperature in the second half had me longing for a steamy bath followed by a cuddle on my couch under a fluffy comforter while I watched Netflix for the rest of the night.
Instead, Saylor drove Chessly and me to Stromboli’s to join the throngs celebrating the Wildcats’ big win. Somehow, we snagged the booth directly behind the one reserved for the players who had an NIL (name image likeness) contract with the pizzeria.
Because of where we were sitting, Wyatt spied me almost immediately after he entered the bar with the rest of the team. Instead of sliding into his usual booth with his teammates, he took the seat beside me, crowding me into the corner of our booth.
“Hello, Gorgeous. Did you enjoy the game?” He helped himself to a cheese stick from the appetizer plate sitting in the middle of our table.
“Nice job out there. That sack was epic.” I watched him devour the treat in one bite. “Go ahead, Slick. Help yourself.”
“I’ll cover it.” His little-boy grin tugged an answering smile from me. “You enjoyed that sack, did you? I dedicated it to you.” He bumped his shoulder to mine. “You gonna introduce me to your friends?”
Across the table, my friends’ cheesy grins made me want to deny his request. But that would be rude to him while playing right into their nonsense. With a glare in their direction, I said, “This is Chessly Clarke”—she waved her hand—“and Saylor Davis.”
Saylor ratcheted up her smile at him from the corner of the booth.
“Do not believe anything they tell you.”
“Oh, ho, ho. Sounds like a dare.” Wyatt’s laughter was positively evil. Leaning forward, he set his elbow on the table, his chin in his hand, and gave my friends the big eyes. “What tips can you give me for wooing Piper, starting with how do I talk her into giving me her number?” Tilting his head to gaze at me, he added, “I’ve already given her mine, but so far, she hasn’t used it.”
“You didn’t tell us that part,” Chess said, her tone accusatory.
“She hasn’t told us much of anything,” Saylor chimed in with narrowed eyes. “For instance, she didn’t say a word about how incredibly hot you are up close.” She glanced at the front of Wyatt’s T-shirt. “Or that you have a great sense of humor.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’ve been holding out on your friends?” Though his tone was playful, a shadow flashed in his eyes.
“You have no idea how up in my business these two can get. Keeping some things to myself is self-preservation. Don’t take it personally.” I hid behind a sip of my lemon drop martini and hoped someone would change the subject.
Bless Chessly when she asked to see the front of Wyatt’s T-shirt. He sat back and stretched his arms across the back of the booth, exposing his massive chest for our reading pleasure.
Or something.
As she read, Chessly cracked up. “No doubt, Wyatt. Bad choices do indeed make good stories. Great shirt.”
Waggling his brows, he shot her a smirk even as he relaxed his arms, casually dropping one right over my shoulders. “Apparently, I wasn’t a bad decision since you haven’t told your friends any horror stories about me.”
Molten lava flooded my core at the wicked look in his light green eyes. My first instinct was to squirm away from his public claim on me. But the weight and heat of his muscled arm over my shoulders warmed me from the inside out, which was so confusing. Even more confusing, I stayed exactly where I was as my friends’ eyes said, “You’ve been holding outalot.”
“The jury’s still out about my decisions,” I mumbled.
“That’s exactly what it looks like,” Saylor said with a giggle.
“Hey, Bax, how did you score a table full of hotties?” Finn McCabe stood beside our booth holding a pitcher in one massive hand and four glasses in his other one.
