“Damn straight.Thinking about it has kept me up more than one night since that party.”
I didn’t have a clue about this girl, so my admission was a giant risk.But something told me I had no chance with her at all if I didn’t take it.
Her narrowed amber eyes deepened to brown.“Uh-huh.So why didn’t you reach out before now?”
“You wouldn’t give me your name, remember?And your frat brothers take their loyalty pretty fucking seriously.They were no help whatsoever.”I held her eyes with mine.“Trust me.If I’d had a name, I would have made damn sure to reach out before now.”
We found our way to the front of the line, and I held my Solo cup out to the frat rat behind the bar.“Another beer, please.”Turning to Saylor, I asked, “What are you having?”
“A beer, please.”
After the bartender handed us our drinks, we stepped to the side.
“You’re a little sister to this frat.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Buddies with Dalton Sneed and Taco Hernandez.”
“Yep.”
“Does that mean you like football?”
“Are you asking if I like the game, or if I’m into football players?”Over the rim of her cup, those amber eyes snapped with mischief.
“Yes.”
Laughter bubbled out of her throat, a burbling sound that settled in my chest.I wanted to hear that laugh over and over again.
“Yes,” she echoed.
“Good to know.”I smiled and drank more beer.“Next question.How good is your cornhole game?From what Dalton said, tonight’s tournament is high-stakes.”
“Are you worried I can’t carry you?”she challenged with a little shoulder bump that heated my skin beneath the sleeve of my T-shirt.
I grinned.“Hmm, it seems we’re evenly matched.My teammates will appreciate that as much as your frat will.”
A tall, lanky guy with a bullhorn in his hand appeared on the top step of the deck.“Welcome, Sigma Nu, to the final night of the interfraternity cornhole tournament.If you haven’t already set your teams, now is the time.Step on over to the registration table and give Steve your names and which house you’re playing for.The rules state that at least one team member on each team must be from the fraternity you’re representing.”
On cue, people lined up in front of the registration table where “Steve” efficiently filled in names on a tournament bracket.A few minutes later, they were lining up by the boards covering the yard.I had to laugh when I saw that Saylor and I had been assigned to play at a pair of cornholes decorated with an elaborately calligraphed obscenity against the ’Cats’ biggest rivals, the Golden Bears.
“Both teams are on the same page with that,” Saylor said with a smirk in the direction of the tilted boards.
On the signal of the guy with the bullhorn, play began.We were matched with a couple of guys wearing shirts with the Sigma Nu insignia.Since they were both of average build, I had the idea neither was an athlete.Didn’t mean they couldn’t play cornhole though—as they proved early on in the game, scoring eight points right out of the gate.But Saylor wasn’t exaggerating when she’d shot her mouth off about carrying me.Girl could drop bags in the hole like a boss.While I didn’t bullseye more than a couple, I still managed to keep our opponents from grabbing the lead, either by canceling their points with my own or sending their bags off the board, keeping them from scoring at all.
We won our first round by a score of 21-17 and stepped to the side to await our next opponents.
“Where did you hone your mad skills at cornhole, Ace?”I asked as we wandered up to the bar for beer refills.
“Football tailgates.While the team is warming up in the stadium, the fans are warming up in the parking lot.”Those arresting amber eyes danced.“Money might change hands on the outcome of a cornhole game.”
“You a gambler, Saylor Davis?”I asked, enjoying the way her name rolled off my tongue.
“Maybe,” she drawled.
“That’s a yes.”
She answered with a secret smile that sucker punched me in the solar plexus.This girl who’d deliberately hidden her identity from me when we first encountered each other was playing poker with me—only I’d just figured out she’d already dealt the hand.
