A few minutes after the bartender took our drink order, Wildcats poured in the back door, making a beeline for their booth. Callahan lifted a woman with a head full of wild, dark curls high into his arms and smacked a kiss on her mouth. A purple-haired beauty nodded to Bax, while a petite blonde sort of acknowledged Finn. Another honey-blonde woman stood up from where she was sitting in the second booth, and Fitz and Tarvarius joined her.
Then Tarvi caught sight of Zoe and yelled across the bar. “Hey! What are you two doing way over there? Come here.” His infectious grin was on full display.
When I glanced toward the door again, Danny was there with a puzzled expression.
Shrugging at Zoe, I said, “Guess we’re sitting with groupies.”
We slid off our bar stools and weaved through tables of people to reach the booths in question.
Tarvi made a show of gesturing Zoe into the booth ahead of him, while Danny leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Thanks for being here.” He gestured for me to slide in beside the pretty blonde, and he sat on my other side.
“Hello, Fitz. Tarvarius. Great game today.”
“Thank you,” Fitz intoned in his best Darth Vader voice. “Have you met Saylor?” He nodded to the woman seated beside me.
The woman’s smile was as infectious as Tarvi’s as she put up her hand for a tiny wave. “Saylor Davis. My friends all date Wildcats—even the two who say they aren’t.” She smirked.
“Zoe Lampee. I flirt with Tarvi.” She reached her hand across the table and they shook.
“Taryn Hamilton.” Before I could say anything else, Danny slipped his arm around my shoulders and tugged me to his side. Shooting him a side-eye, I said, “I date Danny.”
Saylor clapped her hands in delight. “So we’re all one big, happy Wildcats family.”
Of course talk centered on the game and the prospects for the next playoff game. Nowhere did any one of them let their egos overwhelm the conversation, even though Danny had scored a touchdown, Tarvi had rushed for more than a hundred yards and a touchdown, and Fitz had forced the Spartans’ center into their quarterback once for a sack. The heroics of each of the guys in our booth could make highlight reels of the game, yet each of them focused on the others’ successes.
Impressive.
When the server came to clear the nonexistent remnants of our meal and leave the check, the conversation became about the party going down at the big Victorian where Danny and his roommates lived. Leaning close, he brushed his lips over the shell of my ear and said, “We can make an appearance, or we can go to your place. Your call.”
As if she knew exactly what Danny and I were considering, Zoe gave me puppy-dog eyes, and I said, “We can hang out at your place for a while.”
To no one’s surprise, Tarvi rode over to Jock Street with Zoe, while Danny ushered me to his Mustang. Once we were seated in the car, he leaned across the console, sliding his hand around the back of my neck and tugging me over to meet him in the middle.
“I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he said against my lips before pressing a soft kiss on my mouth.
Cupping his cheek in my palm, I surprised both of us when I deepened the kiss, licking across the seam of his mouth and demanding entrance he was only too eager to give, our tongues dueling and dancing in a timeless rhythm. Soon, my arms encircled his neck while his hands roamed up and down my sides beneath my sweater and my hoodie. A thunk alerted us we’d popped the car out of gear as we struggled to move closer with the console in the way.
Chuckling, Danny pulled out of the kiss, shoved his foot on the clutch, and reengaged the gear before his car rolled into the one parked in front of us. As I caught my breath, I noticed we’d done a fine job of fogging up the windows, and I laughed.
“Guess we should head on over to my place.” He started the car and swung out into traffic.
When we arrived at the house, dozens of cars already lined the street. Danny turned down a side street and into the alley behind the house where an old carriage house that looked to have been converted into a garage took up the back half of the lot. He parked and walked around to open my door.
Hand in hand, we walked through the back yard—where a couple of sets of cornhole games awaited players—up the stairs to the back porch, and through the laundry room into the kitchen. Fitz was already stationed at the keg, with Saylor standing next to him, sipping beer from a red cup and flirting. Danny led me over to where Callahan stood with his arm around the curly-haired brunette and said, “Hi, ’Han. Didn’t take long for this shindig to get rolling.”
Callahan snorted. “It never does. Hello, Taryn. Meet my girlfriend. Jamaica Winslow, Taryn Hamilton.” With a conspiratorial stage whisper, he added, “Danny and Taryn are just friends though.”
I could sense the blood rushing to my face, but Danny laughed. “Kinda like the two of you are only study buddies.”
“Touché.” Callahan saluted with his red cup.
“Let’s go check out the party in the living room,” Danny said.
“Nice to meet you, Jamaica,” I said as he tugged me toward the doorway.
She smiled. “I’m sure we’ll see a lot of each other around here.”
As it turned out we didn’t check out the dancing going on in the middle of the living room. Instead, Danny tugged me up the stairs to his room. Before I could ask what he was doing, he said, “I think I forgot to lock my door after I changed to go out to Stromboli’s.”
