“Asking as a friend.”
“A friend who is forward about wanting to get with me.”
“But who also knows damn well you have the final say on that. We can hang out like this otherwise, right? We’ve shared donuts.”
“Oh, so that makes us friends?” I ask slyly.
He’s still holding on, playing with my fingers. He uses it as leverage to tug me closer.
“Definitely.”
“Okay. Friends.”
I’m reluctant to admit it, but he’s fun to hang out with. He keeps making me laugh and I like the good natured bickering.
A commotion sounds behind me and Easton reacts in a split second. He takes me by the waist to swing me out of the way of someone spilling their drink. It puts my back against the wall with him shielding me. He leans in, eyes roving over me.
“They almost bumped into you. Did any beer get on you?”
I shake my head, throat dry from his grasp on my waist and the intimate proximity. “Looks like they got your shoulder instead.”
He shrugs without checking, not tearing his stare from mine. I wet my lips and his attention falls to them. My heart thuds.
I tilt my head a fraction and he draws in a sharp breath, massaging my waist with his big hands. My lashes flutter and I feel the warmth of his breath on my mouth as he dips his head lower.
Rowdy shouts from the next room break the moment.
We stare at each other. He goes still, eyes bouncing between mine. His brows pinch together. I swear I hear a frustrated rumble vibrating in his chest.
It hits me that I was about to kiss him, causing my stomach to bottom out.
The shouting turns tense. It sounds like a fight, and it’s drawing a crowd.
“Oh, shit.” Easton takes a step away, then hesitates. He cups my face with a resigned expression. “I think that’s Madden getting into it again. I’ll be right back. Wait here for me?”
“Okay.”
Relief crosses his face before he pushes through the crowd to find the source of the shouting. Spotting one of his teammates, he motions for the guy to join him. The fight must die off quickly, because once they disappear from my sight, someone turns up the music and the tension leaves the air.
Reagan finds me not long after. “Hey, ready to go?”
Reluctance washes over me. I told Easton I’d wait, but he didn’t come back right after breaking up the fight. Chewing on my lip, I nod.
“Um, let me just say goodbye.”
“Sure. Let’s do a drive by.”
We make our way through the frat house. I scan each room for him without any luck.
I give up searching for Easton and trail after Reagan to the door when she finishes her goodbyes. The two guys blocking the door make me pull up short. One of them is Easton, and the other must be his teammate. He’s muscle-bound with dark brown hair and a brooding expression.
“Keep that short fuse in check,” Easton says. “You good now?”
He drops his gaze. After a moment he gives a jerky nod.
“I’m done for the night,” he says flatly.
“Okay, man.” Easton squeezes his shoulder.
