“I’m not going to lose, so don’t worry about it,” I tell him flatly. “Unless of courseyoudon’t want to pay that much.”
Avery looks at the girl again. She’s now leaning in and laughing at something Nikolai said. “I’m not losing this,” he tells me.
“I’m not worried.” I extend my hand.
He reluctantly shakes it and doesn’t let go right away. His eyes land on mine and we stare at each other for a long minute.
“So what now?” he asks, his voice husky and somehow flustered.
I try to take a deep breath, fail miserably and settle for a short one. “You get up and go get me another drink. And let Nude Pumps do her thing.”
Avery smiles. I pull my hand back, and he stands and walks away. I watch her watching him as he makes his way through the crowd to the bar. She is nodding at something Nikolai said, but she’s no longer listening; I can tell. Alex walks over and plops down beside me in the seat Avery just vacated. I glance at him quickly and smile before returning my eyes to Miss Nude Pumps.
“So you and Westwood…,” Alex says, letting his sentence trail off suggestively.
“No. No ‘me and Westwood,’” I tell him firmly, and watch as the girl downs the last of her white wine and excuses herself from Nikolai and her friend to get another.
“Reallllly?” Alex draws the word out to emphasize his skepticism and nods.“T’es sûr?”
Alex, who is also a French Canadian like me, likes to talk to me in French. I kind of like practicing my mother tongue because I only do it now on the occasional phone call with Sebastian.
“Oui. I’m sure.” I answer him quietly as Nude Pumps slides into the small space beside Avery at the bar. It has to be that way, I know it, even if my girl parts don’t. I am the worst possible match for a high-profile athlete who makes just as much money off his wholesome image as he does putting pucks in the net. I’m damaged goods. The media would have a field day dragging him through the mud.
“You two have sex every time you look at each other.”
Alex’s statement finally makes my head spin around to face him. He’s grinning over the top of his draft beer pint and his blue eyes are dancing at my reaction. “You’re bat-shit crazy.”
“No. You and Westwood are bat-shit crazy if you won’t touch each other, you know, without clothes,” he replies, and sips his beer.
“He’s my neighbor and a friend. He just broke up with a girlfriend, the only one he’s dared to have in five years,” I recount. Nude Pumps starts up a conversation with Avery. “And Sebastian would kill him.”
“You’re stating facts, but none of them mean you two shouldn’t knock boots,” Alex replies.
I snort. “Knock boots? Classy, Larue.”
“Yeah. And chicks dig it.” He smiles triumphantly, then points at the bar. “Some of us need to use whatever charm we can muster. We’re not all born with the model good looks of your beloved.”
“Beloved?” I laugh out loud at that, but it sounds nervous, which annoys me.
“Honey, you better get off your pretty little ass and intervene or he’ll be on someone else’s bitch seat on the way home tonight.” Alex points to the scene at the bar, where Nude Pumps now has her hand on Avery’s arm. She’s batting her eyelashes at him, her ruby lips in a pouty smile. Avery is smiling down at her.
My heart clenches. Why the fuck is it doing that? I goaded him into this. I just won the stupid bet. I should be happy, not suddenly moody.
“Shut up, Alex,” I say flatly, and stand up and head to the restroom.
Chapter 5
Avery
I glance back at the table, but Steph isn’t there anymore. It’s just Larue watching me with a stupid grin on his fat face. Don’t get me wrong, I like Larue, but he makes it his goal in life to be that friend you want to punch. No two ways about it.
“So have you bought a place in San Diego yet?” Jennifer, or Nude Pumps, as Stephanie dubbed her, asks me. “I know most of the players live down on the beach. Do you have a beach house? I love the beach!”
“I’ll be right back,” I say, and grab the drinks the bartender put beside me about ten minutes ago. “I have to give this to a friend.”
I leave Nude Pumps standing there without another word and walk over to Larue. “Where’s Steph?”
“Stephanie? You mean yourbuddyStephanie?” He says it in a way that makes my jaw clench. It’s like he’s mocking me, but I can’t figure out why. It’s annoying. I put her drink down on the table.
