Playbook (The Holland Brothers 2), page 23
“And anyway," Sierra adds, “it doesn’t matter if it wasn’t serious when it started. You love him now?”
“Yes.” God, I really do. I tried not to fall for him, but he’s so easy to love. And the way he makes me feel is beyond anything I’ve ever felt.
Her smile is so wide, and she squeals happily.
“I already regret telling you.”
She laughs and tears shine in her eyes. “I’m so happy for you.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that I’m walking the plank alone.
“No tears!” I point a finger at her, then to her friends. “Go. Have fun, drink too much, and make out with your future husband in public.”
She blushes but then heads off toward the group. I watch her, feeling lighter having admitted my feelings. Now I just have to figure out how to tell him.
“Hey.” Chris appears at my side. He has one hand in his pants pocket and the other wrapped around a glass of whiskey.
“Hi,” I say with as little emotion as I can manage.
“We need to talk.”
My brows shoot up. “Excuse me?”
“About wedding stuff.”
I still don’t follow.
“You’re the maid of honor. I’m the best man.” He grins all sly-like. I’m sure I used to find him attractive, but right now all I feel is disgust. I try to remember that he’s my sister’s future brother-in-law.
“Right,” I say. “What do we need to go over?”
I thought most of it was already done, but if I’ve forgotten something, Sierra might kill me.
“Ben wants everything to be perfect.”
Yeah, no kidding. I catch Brogan’s eye across the bar. He takes in the situation with a furrowed brow.
“Can we talk about this later?” I ask Chris.
“Of course. Is your number still the same?”
“Yes.”
“Great. I’ll text you.”
I’ll have to unblock him first.
Brogan comes to stand in front of us. Chris looks up and nods. “Hey, man. Good of you to show up tonight. I know Ben is thrilled to have his favorite Mavericks player here.”
I shoot daggers out of my eyeballs at my ex. There’s something snotty and demeaning about his tone, like the fact that he’s a professional football player is the only reason anyone wants Brogan around.
“Not as thrilled as I am.” I sidle up next to him, clutching his arm.
Brogan’s eyes dance with mischief and he drops his mouth down to mine. I lift up on my toes to press my lips harder against his.
“I’m gonna…” Chris’s words trail off. I don’t know or care if he finishes that statement because when Brogan’s lips capture mine, I am a goner.
“Everything okay?” The man holding my heart in his oversized hands asks when I drop back down on my heels.
“Wedding planning stuff.” We move toward the bar where my shot still remains. The smell of it wafts over even from a foot away. “And that smells like trouble.”
He plucks the glass up between his thumb and forefinger and tosses it back with only the slightest grimace.
He leans against the bar with one hip. “So, what’s on the agenda?”
“Oh, you know, shots, strip club, the usual.”
His brows lift.
“I’m kidding. No strippers tonight, unless you’re offering.”
“Only for you.” His eyes crinkle as he laughs. “Why are you standing over here hovering like an overbearing parent and leaving perfectly good shots on the table?”
“I’m running this ship tonight. Gotta be responsible.”
“Good god, why?” he asks like he can’t think of a single thing worse than responsibility. Honestly, that’s on brand for him.
“Because…” I trail off. “What if someone needs something?”
One brow quirks up. “Everyone here is an adult. I think you can relax.”
“It has to be perfect.”
“Oh good. I’m glad we’re keeping our expectations in check.” He lets his head fall back and laughs loudly. The way his throat works with the sound makes my stomach dip.
I swat at him playfully. “Tonight is important.”
“Yeah, of course it is.” He takes my hand and smiles at me gently. “You’re a good sister. It makes sense that you want to make sure it all goes smoothly, but I think if Sierra had to choose between perfect and having fun with her sister, she’d pick the latter.”
I think of the words she said no more than five minutes ago. She did say that, but if things don’t go well, I’ll feel like the maid of dishonor.
“How about you let me be the responsible one?” He motions to the bartender, who immediately pours two more of the pink shots. Brogan holds one out to me.
“You’re kidding, right?” I almost burst out laughing at the thought.
“Give me all the details and I will run this night like the party planner extraordinaire you didn’t know you wanted.”
I realize he’s serious. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think I can do it,” he says more than asks.
I mean, I didn’t, but looking at him now I’m wondering if I misjudged him.
“I specialize in parties. You’re in good hands. Drink this.”
I don’t know why, but I do, then cough. “Oh god. That is good.”
He grins. “Is there a schedule of bars and things?”
My face gives him his answer.
“Of course there is. Hit me with it.”
I tell him my exact plans for the night, leaving nothing out. He doesn’t even blink when I mention the checklist of mostly-girly things that I’m certain the guys will think is dumb. He writes it all down in his phone.
“That’s it?”
“If we make it through all the bars still standing, I thought we could try to get into Gaga.” I’ve only ever been with Alec so I have zero expectations that we’ll get in, but it’ll be fun to try regardless, and by that point everyone will hopefully be too drunk and happy to care.
“Got it,” he says, then reads the schedule back to me. “Anything else to make this night perfect?”
I shake my head even though I have a few visions of us making out running through my head. He looks good tonight. Gray slacks, white button-up, sleeves rolled, white tennis shoes. He has this knack for always looking completely casual even when he’s dressed up a bit. It all seems so effortless for him. From fashion to just existing in any situation. He looks like he could walk into the nicest club in the city or attend a frat party.
“Consider it done.” He picks up the second shot and hands it to me. “Have fun, sweetheart. I got you.”
Inexplicably, I believe him. I toss back the shot and he orders another round for everyone.
For the next two hours, we drink and bar hop. I veer away from shots and stick with sipping on drinks and water in between, but the alcohol in my system makes me happy and free to let loose with my sister. Nobody even notices that Brogan is barely drinking.
When we crowd into the limo to go to a bar about fifteen minutes away, I find myself smushed between Brogan and Chris. Happily, I’ve been able to mostly avoid my ex tonight since he cornered me about wedding plans. He’s facing Gretchen on the other side of him, but our legs are touching and his fingers rest on his thigh, therefore grazing mine as well, making me squirm to get away.
“For a small thing, you sure do move around a lot.” Brogan lifts me onto his lap and holds my knees in the opposite direction so no part of me is in any danger of touching my ex. If he realizes why I was so squirmy, he doesn’t say.
“You smell nice,” I say as his familiar cologne wafts around me. His body is big and warm and I’m still just tipsy enough to snuggle up to him with no inhibition.
His head dips down and he brushes his lips over mine. “So do you.”
My gaze falls from his face to his chest. The button-down is open at his neck and I bring a hand up and trail my fingers over the area. Tonight he has on a necklace, and I lift it between my thumb and forefinger. The gold rose charm is dainty, barely discernible without looking closely.
“This is pretty.”
“It was Archer’s mom’s,” he says quietly. The rest of the party is talking loudly and laughing, so it feels like we’re in our own little bubble.
“She gave it to you?” I ask carefully. He’s said very little about his family and I’m afraid to seem too interested and spook him.
“He gave it to me when she passed away,” he says. “She was more of a mom to me than my own and he thought I might want to hold on to it.”
My heart squeezes in my chest. Deep down I think I assumed there was a reason he didn’t say much about his family, but I wasn’t expecting the deep hurt in his confession. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” He threads a hand through my hair and holds the back of my neck.
I don’t know what else to say, but I feel awful. For all the ways my parents frustrate me, they’re alive.
“What about your dad?”
His eyes drop from mine. “Never really had a dad.”
“I’m really sorry.” It feels like such a lame reply, so I do the only other thing I can think and wrap myself around him. He hesitates but a moment later, his muscular arms tighten around me.
Eventually, I tilt my head back and look up at him. We just stare at each other while my heart hammers in my chest and all the emotions I’ve been trying to hold back seem like they’ll explode if I don’t let them free.
“I like you.” I love him, too, but tonight I just want him to know that I’m in this way more than for some fake arrangement.
One side of his mouth pulls up at the corner. “I like you too.”
The limo comes to a stop and everyone piles out, including the driver. I stay where I’m at on Brogan’s lap. I shift, and the movement puts my ass sitting directly on his dick.
“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.” His voice is low as he drops a hand high on my thigh.
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to slide this hand under your dress.” He squeezes my leg and a shiver dances up my spine.
I grab his wrist and glide his hand up under the skirt until his fingertips graze the lacy material of my panties.
“I’m leading the ship tonight, remember?” His voice is hoarse and strained.
“They’re all adults. They’ll figure it out.”
A rough chuckle rumbles in his chest. He groans as he slips a finger underneath and then gently inside me. My lashes flutter closed and I widen my legs to give him better access. He continues pumping in and out of me, then brings his thumb to rub circles over my clit. I palm his cock through his pants.
The door of the limo is still open and the wind and noise filter in, reminding us we aren’t alone. Not that I care. The pulse between my legs thrums as he works me over with his fingers.
“I didn’t realize fucking in the limo was on your checklist.”
“Me neither.”
“You want to though, don’t you? You want me to take out my cock and fuck you right here where anyone could see.”
I don’t know how to tell him it isn’t that I want people to see, it’s that I want him too badly to care.
“Please.” I’m so close. He adds a finger and my pussy clenches around him.
“Come for me, sweetheart, and I’ll give you what you want.”
I grab on to his shoulder as my orgasm rockets through me. My body shakes and laughter bubbles up and then escapes as I gasp for air. I’m giddy and ready for more.
But Brogan is straightening my panties and pulling my skirt down.
“Ready?” he asks, sliding us over toward the open door.
“What about…”
He grins all mischievous and smug. “I’m being responsible, temptress. Come on. I’ve got the limo all night.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
“You rented the limo?” London asks as we file into the bar.
Shit. I did not mean to let that slip. I don’t want her to think I’m flashing around my money.
“It’s no big deal.” When Ben suggested we get a couple Ubers for the night, I knew I needed to intervene. I’ve only been to a few bachelor parties, but I know that it’s all about extravagance and fun. Two things I do very well.
“Thank you.” She looks up at me with those stunning green eyes all soft. Her bottom lip has an indent from where her teeth were biting into it earlier as I fingered her in the limo. “I should have thought of that.”
“You’ve done a great job.” I scan the group. “Everyone is having a blast.”
London beams with pride. “That’s because you’re such a good party planner.”
“I am, aren’t I?” I wink at her. “And I think it’s time for you and me to dance.”
“Dance?” She laughs and looks around. It’s a small bar, crowded with twenty-somethings. The only way we’re getting a drink is to push and shove our way with everyone else and I’m much more interested in her.
“One dance. I love this song,” I say, leading her through the middle of the bar to one side where a guy with a guitar is crooning into the microphone. It’s a cover of a popular 90s rock song, slowed down but still with a nice beat.
I wrap one arm around her waist and with my free hand, lace our fingers together. We hold our joined hands up at chest level and she drapes her right hand on my bicep.
Her cheeks are flushed from the alcohol or maybe the orgasm, but I think some of her tipsiness has worn off. She’s been chugging water more than booze. Probably a smart choice honestly, but I’d take care of her either way.
It turns out I don’t mind not being the center of the party as long as I can be the center of her attention.
She looks up at me, features soft and dreamy like she’s happy. Me too.
“Hey, I have a question,” she says.
“Yes, I definitely plan to fuck you in that limo later.”
“Not that.” She laughs. “But good to know.”
I wait for her to continue. It takes her a beat, so I know whatever it is she wants to ask is more serious than fucking.
“When you said you never really had a dad and that Archer’s mom was more of one than your own, what did you mean? Where were your parents?”
I still for a second. A small part of me wants to open myself up and show her all of it. The good. The bad. The really ugly.
“You don’t want to hear my sad story tonight.”
She keeps staring at me, like maybe she does.
“I think if we’re going to try to get into Gaga, we should go sooner rather than later. Your sister’s friends look like they’re a couple drinks shy of crying in the bathroom.”
It takes her a moment, but she lets me off the hook, glances over at the group and nods. “It’s okay. Gaga was a long shot anyway.”
“I can get us in.”
One of her dark brows lifts. “Oh, you can, can you?”
“I know a guy.” I shrug. I don’t like to use my name or the team for myself, but I have no problem doing it to make sure London has the night she hoped for.
“Are you sure? If it’s weird, we can just hit up a Jack in the Box drive-thru on the way home and I’m sure everyone will be just as happy.”
I bark out a laugh. “Consider that added to the schedule afterward.”
Her smile widens, and fuck does it hit me right in the chest. “Okay. If you’re sure it’s not too much. I know Sierra would love it.”
“Let’s do it then.”
It’s embarrassingly easy to get us in at Gaga. The bouncer recognizes me, and I thank him as he holds the rope open for all of us, no questions asked.
I didn’t think or I would have called ahead to see about VIP, but as it is the group rushes toward the dance floor. London and I head to the bar where I order a round for when they’re ready to take a break.
“What do you want, sweetheart?” I ask London while we have the bartender’s attention.
“Umm…” She thinks, leaning over the bar. While she gives him her drink order, two women approach me on the other side.
One has long, almost white, blonde hair and the other is a brunette with a headband that pulls her hair back in a way that accentuates her sharp features and heavy makeup. She’s pretty. They both are. A month ago I might have even tried to take one or both of them home. Fuck, maybe I did. I squint. No. Maybe. Nah.
“You’re Brogan Six, aren’t you?” the blonde asks.
“Yeah,” I say relieved that I didn’t sleep with her and forgot, but suddenly nervous and not sure why.
“I knew it!” The other girl steps closer and places a hand on my arm. “You are the hottest professional athlete in the state of Arizona. I’ve been saying it for months. Haven’t I been saying it for months?” She looks back at her friend.
“She has. We’ve been coming here every Saturday since we heard it’s your favorite spot in town.”
The girl laughs. “We’ve been trying to run into you for months.”
They introduce themselves but their names go in one ear and out the other.
My gaze slides over to London. She’s oblivious to the wide help me eyes I’m giving her, and instead her stare is locked on the hand draped over my forearm. I try to sort of wiggle out of the woman’s hold, but there’s nowhere to go and she’s latched on tight. I don’t want to be a jerk, but I’d like her to stop touching me. The last thing I want is for London to get the wrong idea or feel uncomfortable. I just want to hang with her and pretend we’re the only two people in this club.
“Hi.” London steps forward, voice sugary sweet. Alarm bells go off in my head. My girl is friendly and kind, sweet even, but this is something else, and I’m suddenly nervous she’s about to tell me to have fun and leave me with my new stalker friends.
“Hello,” the girls say back in unison, then dismiss her by turning their gazes back to me. Except she sidesteps, blocking me. Well, sort of. I’m still almost a foot taller than her, even in her sexy heels, so I can see the confused reactions of the women in front of her.
