I lock eyes with her across the bar and give her a small wink. She shakes her head, mouthing “fuck you” before turning to serve a customer. Acting all cool and collected, but I know her pussy’s tingling at the sight of all that testosterone.
That’s what you get, Rox, for teasing me with those girls. Let’s see how you handle this.
Game on.
2
The guy who steps up to the bar is exactly the type Roxy goes for.
Tall. Broad shoulders stretching his team jacket. Dark hair, strong jaw, the kind of face that probably gets pussy thrown at him daily. His eyes sweep over me, catching on the tattoo on my bicep before moving up to my face. They’re dark brown, almost black, and there’s something unsettling in the way he looks at me.
Perfect. Just the kind of dude to push her buttons.
I wipe my hands on a towel and step closer, flashing him a smile.
“What can I get you?”
He leans his elbows on the bar, and I catch a whiff of his cologne, all woodsy and musky.
“Heineken Zero.”
“Sure.” I grab a bottle from the fridge and pop the cap off. “On the house. Congrats on the win.”
“Thanks, man. Appreciate it.” He raises the bottle, his lip curling into a smirk.
“Not drinking tonight?”
“Not during the season. Gotta stay sharp.”
I glance over at the table where half his team is already doing shots, pouring liquor down each other’s throats. “Looks like your teammates are taking a different approach.”
“They earned it. It was a close game.” He takes a long pull from the bottle. “I’ll celebrate when the season’s over.”
“Disciplined. I like it.” I lean against the bar. “So you’re the responsible one of the group.”
“With drinking, yeah. Other stuff?” He winks. “Not so much.”
There it is. That cocky confidence I expected. The kind Roxy finds irresistible. This is my cue to point him in her direction.
I glance over at Roxy, who’s leaning across a table taking orders, her ass on full display in those tight jeans. “See my coworker over there?” I nod toward her. “Red hair. Maybe she could be your celebration tonight.” I lean in, lowering my voice. “I hear she’s got a thing for athletes.”
He follows my gaze, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe before coming back to me. Something flashes there, but it’s not the predatory look I expected.
“What are you, her pimp or something?”
I laugh it off. “Nah, man. Just looking out for her. She’s been having a dry spell.”
Before he can respond, someone down the bar shouts for a beer. I grab a glass and start pouring.
Fuck.Maybe I went in too hard. That was smooth as sandpaper. Now he probably thinks I’m a creep. I should’ve just let nature take its course.
I move down the bar, serving other customers, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. He doesn’t head back to his teammates. He just stays there at the bar, nursing his drink.
Maybe all’s not lost.
After pouring a few more drinks, I make my way back to his end. “Sorry about that. Don’t know why I said that. I was just?—”
“Trying to get me to fuck her?”
