“Grr.”
“Did you justgrrat me?”
“Yes. Because this is torture. Can we pretend the last five minutes never happened? ‘Kay, thanks.”
“Absolutely not.” His grin grew. “Now, I recall one of your items on the list is joining a game. You can dance on a bar or do a body shot or get naughty in public, or… you could ask to join that darts match over there?”
Oh shit.“Dean, you beautiful genius. I could just kiss you!” I clapped. “Thank you. This is way more my speed.”
“You’re welcome. Want company, or you want to do it alone?”
“It doesn’tspecifythat I can’t bring a buddy, does it?”
“Nope.”
“Then come on, buddy. Let’s go play some darts and make new friends!”
“Cross that baby off!” I jumped in the air, swinging my hands around my head and cheering. I joineda dart game. Did I win? No. Did I suck? Yes. But I met Jeremy, Greg, and Christina, who were juniors majoring in art, and it was exhilarating.
Dean didn’t play, but he sat at the table nursing a beer the entire game, and having him there as support was incredible. I didn’t need the crutch, but it felt nice to have someone. My friends were the best and meant well, but I liked having Dean join me on this too.
“Wait!” I gripped the back of his shirt as he walked toward our friends, pulling him toward me. I tried, and failed, to not notice how warm the shirt was and how good he smelled. Even in a bar that smelled like pee and stale beer, his scent was magical.
“Hm?” He faced me, his eyes dropping to my chest for a second.
“Yousaid you were doing things too. That meansyouhave to join a game!”
He pursed his lips, and I didn’t give him a chance to make an excuse. “You’re either in or out, Dean. If you can’t do it, then—”
“I’ll do it.” He scanned the bar, his dark brown eyes narrowing like he was sizing up an opponent. “There.” He jutted his chin toward a group of girls playing a drinking game in a booth. “Let’s go.”
“Wait,I’mnot going. Those girls won’t want me to hang with me, just you. You’re Dean Romano! I’m just a—”
“Careful how you finish that sentence.I’m just ais not a good sentence starter when I know you’re a badass woman with a lot of confidence.” Dean’s eyes flared. “You’re coming with me. Now.”
His tone had a bite to it. Not a mean one but a commanding,don’t fuck with mevibe that had my legs moving for me, following him to the table of beautiful girls all giggling and throwing cards into a pile. He thought I was a badass womanwith confidence, and god, that made my insides turn to goo. I wasn’t, at all, but it felt nice for a hot second. It didn’t last long. My age-old insecurities crept up my throat, making an uncomfortable ball of emotion form back there.These girls were so pretty. Cool. Confident.They’d take one look at me and judge.
Just like high school, when I was so focused on proving toEmilythat I could be a pro athlete, I gave up on being cool, on making friends, onliving.I’d been judged for always wearing practice gear to school or always being covered in sweat. One time, the cool girls covered my locker with perfume samples because they said I smelled.
Fuck.
“Ladies, how we doing tonight?” Dean asked, leaning on the edge of the booth.
“Hey,” the girl with beautiful black hair said. Her lips were bright pink and her skin flawless. She eyed Dean up and down, smirking. “You coming to hit on us?”
“Actually, I’m not. You are all stunning, obviously, but my friend and I have a hot girl summer list to complete, and I was hoping you could help me. Mack, come on. See if we can join.”
Shit. Just, be cool.
My shirt felt too tight, too small. Like I tried too hard. My hair was in a pony because that’s all I really did, and my jeans were longer than normal. I only wore mascara, and I wish I knew makeup more. I squeezed my hands together as the women looked at me, and I focused on a spot on the table. “Hey, sorry to bother you.”
“Mack Mallinson?” the pretty girl with red hair said. She leaned forward onto her elbows, her smile manic. “No fucking way. I love watching you play on the field. My siblings are huge women soccer stans.”
I blushed, hard. “Oh, wow. Thank you!”
“Girl, sit. Right here. Oh my god, can I take a picture with you?”
Dean met my gaze, his eyes warming with pride and humor. He gently nudged my lower back so I could slide into the booth next to the girl. She leaned into me as she snapped a photo, and my mind couldn’t catch up. They were excited to see me! Not Dean?
