Knot So Lucky (Destination Love, #1)(12)

She smirks, giving a little shrug.

“Probably more than you got, QB. But go ahead. Give it your best shot—”

The music dies down, and I can feel people staring at us, but I couldn’t care less. I don’t even care if they hear us or if I look like a beggar.

She issued a challenge. And I’m going to take it.

The three milliseconds my drunk mind takes to formulate what I’m about to say is just enough for me to think I’m a fucking genius. So with all the goddamned audacity I have, I open my lips to speak with far too much confidence.

But I’m cut off, interrupted as she grabs that fucking stripper pole with one hand and the other uses TJ’s shoulder to help her stand on the bench seat.

The bus slows, stopping as cheers erupt, and she laughs, pointing at me as she announces shit to the whole bus.

“Crew here wants in my perfectly lovely panties. I think he should try harder to convince me he’s the man for the job.”

“Miss, I can’t go if you’re up there,” the driver calls out, but nobody’s listening. They’re too invested in this fucking silly spectacle. A whoosh of breath leaves me as I smile, my hand gripping the back of my neck.

“But,” she continues, “if I’m gonna fuck someone in Vegas…in Sin motherfucking City…it should be epic. Right?” More cheers. “So tell the room, QB—how is big dick energy slathered in red flags epic? That just sounds like a Wednesday night.”

The whole bus erupts in hollers and oooo’s.

“Enjoying yourself?” I chuckle.

She nods, but I shake my head before I turn to my friends. Big mistake.

TJ’s clapping and laughing as Nate nods, his eyebrows raised, waiting for my answers. They’re enjoying this way too much.

“Well? Answer her,” is said from the back somewhere. I reach for her, ready to throw her over my shoulder and walk her back to my fucking penthouse, but she steps back, her ass hitting the window.

“You’re gonna get it,” I grind out, rubbing the stubble on my jaw because she’s cupping her hand around her ear like she can’t hear me. So I add, “You want epic? Fine, I’ll give you epic—”

But before I can finish, TJ steps up next to her, puts his hands on her waist, and looks up at her with puppy dog eyes as he says, “I’d give you a boombox in the window if you came home with me. We can bring back 1989, sweet thang. Fuck him. I make all the touchdowns anyway.”

Her mouth falls open like she’s shocked as she runs her fingers through his hair before looking back at me.

That motherfucker.

“I don’t know, Crew…TJ’s giving me movie reenactments. That’s a pretty amazing offer. How do I turn that down?”

I shove his shoulder, pushing him away from her, making them chuckle as I growl.

“Get the fuck off her. You can’t make a touchdown with a broken arm.”

But it doesn’t matter what I say to TJ because I’ve got two cockblockers. As I turn back to her, Nate’s already got her halfway down on his lap, saying he’d tattoo her name on his ass.

“Nope,” I grind out, wrapping an arm around her waist and hauling her away before I set her to her feet.

She plops down onto the seat across from them, so I trap her, my palms pressed against the seat on either side of her shoulders.

The smile she’s wearing is so big that it’s infectious, but I keep my face serious, leaning close enough so my tequila-laced words are only for her. But as I do, out of the corner of my eye, I see it—an epic once-in-a-lifetime motherfucking gauntlet to throw down.

Say no to this, Wild Card.

It could be the booze or the fact that she’s made me feral, but what comes out of my mouth surprises me as much as it does her.

“You want epic?” I pinch her chin between my fingers, guiding her face over her shoulder, making her twist to look out the window as I let my lips brush her ear and say two little words that detonate like a bomb.

“Marry me.”

Her head snaps back, almost smacking me in the nose, but I jerk up to standing, falling backward. Luckily, Nate’s hand steadies my back.

“What the hell. Are you crazy?” she rushes out.

TJ high-fives me, saying, “Badass,” before he looks out the window. “You think they got an Elvis suit I could wear?”

Nate laughs. “I wanna be the best man.”

But TJ points at him, saying, “Co…best man,” as Nate bends forward with his forearms on his knees, looking between Eleanor and me, completely entertained and invested.

She’s shaking her head, so I raise my brows in challenge. More seconds tick by without an answer, and now the bus is starting to throw out come on’s and do it.

Even her best friend, Millie, chimes in, “Married today, divorced tomorrow…that’s a conversation starter for sure, bitch.”

I bite my lip, squinting one eye, trying to focus my thoughts—What am I doing? That’s sober me. Who cares. Welcome back, drunk me.

“You wanted epic, right?” I press. “Here it is. Marry me. Then you’re mine. Win-win.”

She’s actually speechless. Just like the whole crew on the fucking bus. Everyone’s just staring at us, waiting for her answer. But she wanted to play this game, and I don’t lose. Even if I’m plastered. I look around the bus, smirking, my arms spread wide.