I dropped the bag of food on the bed between them and stole the controller, ignoring the emphatic complaints that I would mess up his game as I sank to one of the huge cushions at the foot of the bed and pressed the pause button to continue the mission.
Needless to say, I was a terrible game driver. I think I crashed more than I drove. Poor pedestrians were darting from my path of chaos as I turned left then right—ruining the car Tate called his beast. The virtual vehicle was a huge pickup that looked a little like the one I now owned.
“Do me a favor: park it in my garage and pick a slow banger, A.”
“Where is it?”
“Pull up the map.” I did as I was told and waited. “See that orange house thing?”
I went to the green one.
“No. Orange, A.”
I took the cursor to the blue one, silently laughing at his growled frustration.
“O-Range.”
“Oh. You said orange.”
Libby laughed out loud, apologizing but not laughing any less when I was sure Tate was glaring at her for siding with me. I made a waypoint on the map and made sure to hit every stationary object on the way there… until the controller was plucked from my hands by Drew who was shaking his head in sympathy.
“What are you doing?” I reached for the controller, but he had the hunk of plastic way out of my reach. “It’s still my turn.”
“I can’t watch any more of that driving. It’s like being in the car with you for real. Scary.” His eyes widened as he grinned his cocky half-grin at me and held the controller out for Tate to take back.
“Spoilsport. You’re just jealous of my mad skills.” I grinned up at him before tugging on his cut in a request for him to help me up from my perch on the cushions.
He pulled me up using no effort at all, his free hand curling around my waist the way it always did as he pulled me into his side. Two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle fitting together perfectly every single time.
“You fed the beast?” Drew asked me before he turned to look at Tate.
I grinned up at him, my hands closing around the open sides of his cut as I met his gaze. “He still has to eat his apple pie, but he’s mostly fed.”
I asked him silently if he thought we should start the talk now, or let Tate finish eating first. There were just some things about men I’d never been able to figure out, and having an insight helped when I would have otherwise dived in and blurted the news out with a cringe.
Drew’s hand slid to my ass cheek, giving it a playful yet slightly painful pinch, his eyes still on Tate as his smile grew.
“Tate, Ayda wants to talk to you about your new football coach who we met in the diner earlier and happens to be a total prick.”
And I thought I was blunt.
Patting Drew’s chest in thanks, I rolled my head in Tate’sdirection and pressed my lips together. “Do you know who they hired?”
Tate looked up at me and shrugged. “Not like they’re going to consult us about it. Is he a hard ass or something?” He stuffed more fries into his mouth and looked between Drew and me.
“There’s no easy way to say this so… It’s Jacob,” I said, leaning into Drew just to absorb some of his body heat.
“Fuck. No.” Tate growled, dropping his burger into the takeout box and sitting up from his slouch. “Then I’m quitting the team.”
“Hounds don’t quit,” Drew said calmly, his voice somehow commanding everyone’s attention despite how quietly he’d spoken.
“Drew, I ain’t—”
“Yes, you are.”
“He’s right, Tate,” I responded. “He’s not going to win, and we’re not going to let him fuck with you. First sign of benching you, pushing you too hard, even looking at you the wrong way, and I will be getting his ass fired.”
Tate looked between Drew and me, his eyes wide and waiting. “I don’t understand how this has happened.”
