Page 31 of Tough Guy and the Show Off

“In Denver,” she says. “They love it.”

“You like the sport?”

She nods. “It’s exciting. Fast-paced, and plenty of eye candy.” Her gaze drifts back to Travis as she says that last part. “Especially here in Boston.”

Trav claps my shoulder. “Yeah, Bozy is one of the hottest guys in the league.”

Emily looks confused for a second and I almost laugh out loud.

“What do you do for work, Emily?” I ask.

“Oh, um, marketing for a cosmetics company. It’s fun. I get to travel and meet a lot of people. The schedule is flexible too, so I’m always available for whatever adventures life offers up.”

Oh she’s definitely making a play for Travis. I study my best friend as his eyes roam over Emily’s ample assets, but then he leans into me a little, grabbing his beer and taking a large gulp. Is he deciding what to do next? Leave with her now or call her later? Am I cramping his style?

I am. I should get out of his way, but I stay planted where I am. “I’m getting tired, and we have early practice tomorrow. We should go, Trav.”

“Oh, but it’s still early.” Emily puts her hand on Trav’s. “You could stay for one more drink, couldn’t you?” She steps closer. “I could make it worth your while.”

My stomach twists unpleasantly waiting for Trav’s response.

He smiles politely, pulling his hand away. “Beau is right. I’m on a one-drink limit tonight. It was great meeting you.”

She looks frustrated but presses on. “Take my number. Maybe we can grab a drink sometime.”

“Sure.”

Trav waits patiently as Emily digs in her handbag and pulls out a card. Then she throws her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek, leaving a smear of crimson lipstick on his skin before slinking off.

I exhale slowly once she’s gone. Threat neutralized, but what the actual fuck is wrong with me?

Shaking my head, I turn to Trav. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Cockblocking. You wanted to hook up, right?”

He raises an eyebrow before shaking his head. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

We say our goodbyes to the team, ignoring Harlson’s pout and attempts to get us to have one more shot, and make our way to Trav’s car.

Inside, he blasts Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing,” singing it at the top of his lungs and making me dissolve into laughter as I join him. He’s my favorite person, my comfort zone. It’s okay that I’m a little possessive over his attention tonight. It’s just like that sometimes, right?

We pull into the parking garage of our building and walk to the elevator. Trav is still humming the song, his mood light, so I guess it didn’t bum him out too much that he didn’t hook up with Emily.

“You gonna call her?”

He pushes the call button. “Who?”

“Emily.”

His brow creases. “Who’s Emily?”

“Dude. You just spent like forty minutes talking to her at the bar.”

“Oh, right. I forgot her name.”

Shaking my head, I shove him a little. “You’re such a dog. You’d have fucked her without even knowing her name.”