There, maybe he just wants some reassurance that his horny ways won’t be splashed all over an app accompanied by a trending snippet of music.
Although . . . it would make a good post . . . no, I’d never do that.
“Not trying to prove anything.” His eyes travel down my body and then all the way back up, his gaze feeling like an infrared light examining me for any inconsistencies. Trust me, he doesn’t need a special laser sight to spot them. With a step closer, he says, “Just looking for some company. Are you really going to make me spend my birthday alone?”
Well, isn’t that just a kick to my flimsy escape plan?
Blue-green eyes lock with mine as I take in his beautiful face. He’s so disgustingly proportionate. From his lips to his nose to the strong, angular curve in his jaw, he’s perfect. Actually freaking perfect. Pair that with his towering height, broad, muscular shoulders, his athletic prowess, and his charming disposition and he’s a tough one to say no to.
Very tough.
“It’s not my fault you chose the wrong person to spend your birthday with,” I say, attempting to figure out why on earth he’d want to spend the night in my company.
I’m no one in his world. Sure, I can make a mean quesadilla, and if you were to ask me what season ofNew Girla certain episode is from, I’d be able to answer you. And not to toot my own horn, but this girl knows how to sew a button, a lost skill among the ages. But other than that, there’s nothing special over here, at least nothing of Hornsby’s caliber.
“True, but I’m choosingyounow. Are you really going to turn me down?”
Uhhh . . .
I’m trying to, but failing magnificently.
I’d like to state it’s not my fault. Just look at him. I’d love to see any one of you say no to him. Go ahead, give it a shot.
Yeah . . . that’s what I thought. Impossible.
Goodbye girls’ night.
I had plans, you know, of talking to Blakely about my latest waxing experience—which was a nightmare—and asking her what she thinks of that period underwear you see advertised all over the place. Oh . . . and how I spent two hours the other night watching this beautiful Turkish baker plow her fist into proofed bread dough over and over again.
That is not the kind of conversation that should be had in front of a man like Eli. Nor should he obtain humiliating information like that about me.
Also, I’m not sure he would have a valuable opinion on period underwear.
But it seems Hornsby has other plans, and honestly, I’m not a beast. I can’t just leave someone on their birthday . . . alone. So it seems this duo of Blakely and me has become a trio.
“Turn you down?” I glance to the side, spotting Blakely buried in her phone. I swallow hard. “I guess I’m not.”
A full-on, mind-melting, panty-splitting smile spreads across his face, and that one look, full of flirtatious promises, makes my legs quiver. Pulse. Possibly spread if I wasn’t standing.
I have no intentions of ever hooking up with Hornsby or any one of Pacey’s teammates for that matter, but he’s chosen me to be his bestie tonight, so that’s that.
Without another word, he wraps his arm around my shoulders, and together, we head toward Blakely, who looks up from her phone just in time to catch us walking together.
Uh-oh.
I’ve seen that grin before.
That grin doesn’t look promising for me.
The gears are grinding in her mind . . . her evil, evil mind.
When I set her drink on the table, I can tell I’m not going to like what comes out of her mouth next, and that drink will most likely be consumed by me, not her.
“Eli Hornsby, isn’t it your birthday?” she says, the ease in her voice making me envious. She’s always had an easy time talking to the players, whereas I nervously sweat in the corner and respond to their questions with weird grunting noises until I warm up. You would think being around hockey players my entire life would have prepared me not to be a nervous wreck, but that is not reality. At least not when it comes to Hornsby.
“It is my birthday.” He sets his drink on the small, circular table.
“Well, Happy Birthday,” she says. “And I hate to do this because celebrating your birthday seems like a lot of fun . . .”
