“Talk. To. Her.” Luca spared me no glance as he pushed off the bar, leaving me alone with my fucked-up acronym humor and sad thoughts.
AHST—pronouncedah-st.
Rolling my shoulders, I leaned against the bar and took in the scene. Focusing on the five senses helped me settle whenever my insides got weird. It smelled like beer and cleaner, an awful combination. That and the sweat from everyone around me. June was hot in central Illinois. The bar top was sticky and a little humid. My skin prickled with sweat, and I dug my toes into my shoes. My mouth tasted like tequila and lime, and I breathed in the tangy scent.
Luca’s words resonated with me. I needed to speak to my sister. I’d been avoiding her whenever shit felt too heavy or real, which she of course assumed had something to do with her and Luca being together.
It didn’t. It was my own shit holding me back.
A familiar pleasant scent of flowers and sunscreen hit me as Mack Mallinson leaned against the bar, her arm an inch from mine. She wore her long blonde hair down in waves, and the tips were purple. My lips curved up. “I didn’t notice your hair earlier. I like it.”
“Oh.” She held up the ends and flicked them over her shoulder. “Thanks. I need to get them redone soon.”
“You keeping purple? It suits you.”
She bit her lip and glanced down, like she was nervous. I frowned, hating that I could’ve possibly made her uncomfortable. We’d been around each other on and off for years, and she was cute as hell, but she was my sister’s best friend, so that was an automatic no in every sense of the word. I blamed my protective brother instincts on the urge to warn her about this list. Nothing else.
“So, about this playbook thing—”
“Can I practice something on you real quick?” she asked, her eyes wide.
Her skin was flushed, her cheeks redder than before. Herlarge blue eyes almost matched her hair, and I noted she barely wore any makeup. Her freckles stood out, and they were cute. Her lashes were also super long and dark. She was pretty, no doubt about it.
“Practice what?”
She huffed and glanced back at the table. I followed her gaze and found all of the girls and my teammate staring at us. I stood straighter. What was going on? Why was Callum winking at her?
“Uh, the plan is… was…look, I have to ask some guy if they want to do a shot with me. It’s the first item in the playbook.”
I scanned the bar, weighing at her options. They all seemed like horrible choices. Beefcakes would stare at her chest, and Mustache seemed a little creepy.This is a dumb idea.“If you don’t want to, don’t do it. They mean well, but friends are the worst sometimes.”
“No, that’s the thing. I do. I need to push myself out of my comfort zone andlive.” She gripped the edge so hard her knuckles were white.
The urge to comfort her had me leaning closer. She sucked in a breath as I bent my head, which made me feel even worse. Her friends would hear it from me if they pressured her into something she didn’t want to do. “Mack, you’re nervous. If you’re not wanting—”
“Can I practice with you? Just for a second?”
Her large eyes pleaded with me, andfuck,I was a sucker for blue eyes. As someone who grew up with dark brown, blue eyes on a woman usually were my kryptonite. I expected the usual blahness to hit me, the nothingness I felt around the opposite sex, but instead, my stomach tightened with… something. Mack was always cute in the sporty, adorable way.
Lo’s best friend. Back off.
Sighing, I nodded. “If you think it’ll help, sure.”
“Thanks, Dean.” She swallowed, hard. Her throat bobbed, and she pushed her hair behind her ears. She had a birthmark on her left cheek, right below her eye, and I’d never noticed how her lashes fanned over her cheeks when she blinked.
“Hit on me,” I said, amused.
She sighed, blinking a million times before she clasped her hands in front of her. “Can I buy you a shot, please?”
I fought a smile—second time in the span of five minutes. I was a new person. “Can I offer feedback?”
“Please. Yes. All of it. I don’t… I never do this.” She groaned, and one of her tank top straps slid off, showcasing a very bright pink bra.
My finger twitched with the urge to touch it.Interesting.I let my gaze drop for a second to the tight black tank that hugged her toned body. Her cutoff jean shorts went high, and she had a shoestring as a belt. Seeing the loop there made my fingers ache to yank it. She didn’t want my opinion on how cute she was though. She’d asked for feedback on hitting on a dude.
“First off, you’re clenching your hands together. This isn’t a job interview. You’re asking a man, who is generally an idiot. He’s gonna be happy you’re talking to him.”
“No hand clenching. Got it.” She released her fingers but then held them in the air at an awkward angle. “What do I do then?
