“Gotta go sling some tires around, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Is that a threat?” I teased.
He leaned a bit over the counter, his silver-gray eyes steely as he lowered his voice. “It’s a date.”
My eyes took an around-my-brain tour and came back to him. “If you’re not careful, you’ll hurt yourself with your ridiculousness.”
Laughing, he headed for the door. “Bye, T.”
“Bye, Danny.”
Hailey echoed me, and I slid my eyes from ogling his taut ass in his old jeans to catching the puzzled expression on her face.
“He hardly even looked at me.” Her tone hovered somewhere between pouty and stunned.
“That’s cuz he’s Taryn’s guy,” Sophie said. I thought she’d tuned out as she restocked cups and lids after the morning rush, but apparently not.
“He’s my friend, yeah.”
I wanted to shove the words back in and smack my hand over my mouth when Hailey’s face lit up at my admission. The woman didn’t need even that much encouragement.
On cue she said, “Then you won’t mind if I go after him.”
I minded. It kind of shocked me how much I minded. But I’d never once been in the game for Danny’s romantic interest, so in the end it didn’t matter what I thought.
“You don’t care whether I mind or not.” Grabbing the clipboard from beneath the register, I headed to the back room to “take inventory.” Read: escape Hailey and the barrage of questions about Danny I could sense she wanted to ask.
I didn’t know why her interest in him bothered me so much. It wasn’t like I hadn’t predicted it, or been steeling myself for the massive feminine interest Danny always drew. The way the two women in the ice cream shop—women old enough to be his mom—had openly eyed him when we were there only proved his universal effect on women.
Over the years I’d known him, he’d never hidden how tuned in he was to the way he affected most of the women he met. On the contrary, Danny relished his effect on all the girls. While he didn’t show off directly around me, I’d seen him in action at parties, after games, and in the hallways in high school. The man was the walking definition of chick magnet.
I managed to stay busy in the storeroom until the lunch rush. By then, Hailey was too busy filling orders and flirting with all the hot guys who stopped by the shop to grill me about my friend. Being located a couple of blocks off-campus meant loads of traffic from the men’s and coed dorms came through the Coffee Kiosk, giving my coworker her pick of men interested in spending time with her when she got off work. Perhaps their attention would be enough to take her mind off a certain blond receiver with a killer smile and a propensity for ignoring what was directly in front of him.
I nursed my morose thoughts as I blended smoothies at the back counter. Right when I turned around to call out the orders, the door chimed, and in walked a pair of massive Black guys. The one guy’s head barely cleared the top of the doorframe, while the much shorter guy’s shoulders completely filled one side of it. If the two of them didn’t play for the Wildcats, I’d eat my apron.
The second she set her eyes on them, Hailey dialed up the flirt to eleven. “What can we get you?” she asked. The wattage of her smile rivaled a beacon.
The tall one smirked when she dragged that braid over her shoulder, while the short, stocky one shot her a matching grin. The tall guy ordered a large Americano and his friend asked for a berry smoothie.
While Hailey rang up their order, I went to work making the smoothie and Sophie took care of the coffee. It was only when I was handing the smoothie across the end of the counter that I caught the name on the cup.
“Tarvarius,” I called to draw his attention away from Hailey and over to his drink. When he picked it up, I asked, “Out of curiosity, are you the same Tarvarius who plays for the ’Cats?”
His chest puffed up. “Seen my awesome play on the field, huh?”
“Uh, I’m here working most Saturdays.”
His smile faltered for a second before he rallied. “Yet you know who I am.”
The tall guy standing behind him rolled his eyes over the rim of his cup as Tarvarius showed off.
“I’ve heard your name. A friend of mine walked on the Wildcats this year. He was telling me about some of the characters on the team and mentioned your name.”
The tall guy smirked. ‘“Character’ doesn’t come close.” His deep voice was a dead ringer for James Earl Jones. “Who’s your friend?”
“Danny Chambers. He plays wide receiver.” Narrowing my eyes, I asked, “Do you dress up as Darth Vader every year for Halloween? ’Cause your voice could pass for his.”
The tall guy’s smirk morphed into a chuckle. “I get that a lot, but no.” Turning to his friend, he said, “It never takes long for people to get your number, does it, Tarvi?”
