She straightened her spine, glaring at me. “No, for sleeping with the enemy.”
“I don’t think literal sleeping counts.” I strolled past her and opened the passenger-side door, holding it for her. “Unless this is your way of hinting at something.”
“Definitely not.”
All I wanted was to get inside my truck and blast the air conditioning directly at my face. Stop by home and change into a T-shirt and jeans instead of this ridiculous suit. Then inhale at least three plates of food. I would figure out the rest later.
If her company factored into any of the above, all the better.
Unfortunately, she was hell-bent on arguing with me.
We stood, locked in a standoff, while I cooked under the sun, waiting for her to get in the damn vehicle. My truck chimed, reminding us that the door was still ajar. James might be the only person I’d ever met who was less argumentative while drunk.
Time to de-escalate the situation a bit.
Taking a few steps, I drew closer until she was within arm’s reach. I didn’t actually touch her, but that was the point. “James.” I dropped my voice, keeping it low and smooth.
“What?” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Do you have other plans tonight?”
Her mouth scrunched up. “No.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Everything?” She gestured between us. “You, me, this?”
I ducked my head, catching her eye. “Are you hungry?” It was just a guess, but it was dinnertime and would explain some of her irritability. And I was definitely starving. A massive burger was in order, stat. Maybe two.
As if on cue, her stomach gurgled loudly. Her cheeks flushed pink, which was pretty adorable. She jutted her chin defiantly. “No.”
“Great,” I said, ignoring her reply. “What are you in the mood for?”
She looked down at her black Converse. “I don’t know. Pizza? Burgers? I’m not picky.”
“Let’s swing by my place so I can change, and then we can grab some food. My treat.”
“Okay,” she grumbled, finally climbing into the truck.
After stopping by my place, we ended up at Burger Bar in the trendy brewery district nearby. We ordered their signature boozy milkshakes, burgers, and fries, and somehow, I even talked her into sharing an order of onion rings with me, but I was borderline worried she’d poison them if I wasn’t careful.
“I hope you know I’m not going to sleep with you.” Bailey took a sip of her chocolate-Kahlua milkshake, eyeing me warily from the other side of the booth.
I grabbed an onion ring from the middle of the table and set it on my appetizer plate. “Technically, you already did.”
“If you use that loophole to tell everyone and give them the wrong idea, I will strangle you with hockey tape.”
“Relax, James. I was kidding. I didn’t think you’d sleep with me tonight.”
Sober Bailey had made it abundantly clear on Sunday morning that she was not, in fact, a one-night stand type of person. I had no delusions about that changing soon. Though obviously, I wouldn’t turn her down if it did.
“Oh really?” She raised her blond eyebrows. “Then what about all that crap you said to me at the bar?”
“I was teasing you.” I shrugged, biting into the gigantic onion ring. Oh my god. It was almost orgasmic. Food always tasted exponentially better after games.
“Yeah, right.”
Our server returned, quickly setting down our plates. She slid Bailey’s chicken burger with sweet potato fries over to her, followed by my loaded double cheeseburger with regular fries, before disappearing again.
“Well, it’s half-true,” I said, picking up my burger. “I was teasing you in a playful way. Obviously, I was hitting on you too.”
There was no point in denying that part. Hostility aside, she was freaking gorgeous. My attraction to her grew every time we hung out. What muddied the waters was whether she was attracted to me now, in the absence of tequila.
I was pretty sure she was. But the death stare made it hard to tell.
Bailey leaned over the table, brow crinkling. She lowered her voice, like she didn’t want anyone to overhear. “Does that actually work with other girls?”
Did she want honesty here or what? I guess that’s what I would give her.
“Most of the time,” I said, taking a bite of my french fry.
“Seriously?”
“You came back, didn’t you?”
“That was the tequila talking,” she snapped.
Damn. She was cute when she was annoyed.
“Huh.” I stroked my chin. “Isn’t that a country song?”
She placed her palms flat on the table, resting her forehead on them. “You are exasperating,” she muttered, still facedown.
“Back atcha.” I just wished I didn’t enjoy it so much. Liking the dynamic we had going on was problematic. But I put the fun in dysfunctional, so I guess that wasn’t a huge surprise.
Bailey lifted her head, curtain of golden hair falling in her face as she looked up at me. “Why aren’t you out celebrating your win and hat trick against us with all your Falcon buddies?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. In fact, I was missing at my own house party at this very minute. My phone, switched to silent, had been blowing up. “I guess that scene gets old after a while.”
“What, you don’t like having a crowd of doting fans throw themselves at you? That seems like it would be right up your alley.”
Honestly, being here with her, getting the gears, was far more appealing than being surrounded by a bunch of people who didn’t actually know me but claimed to think I was great because I could hit things with a stick.
I swallowed a bite of my burger. “Don’t you ever find it…superficial? That whole scene?” I asked. “We’re joined together by this single common thread, but otherwise, I’m not sure most of us would even be friends.”
She should know, as it looked like she was about to be ex-communicated by Captain Dickhead. I’d seen it happen before. But she hadn’t grasped what was coming yet, which made me feel bad for her. She didn’t deserve that.
“Deep thoughts from Carter over here,” she said. “I thought you were supposed to be Mr. Life of the Party. Don’t all the Falcons love you?”
“Ha, no. Ward and I are solid. And Tyler’s cool, odd duck that he is. But I’m pretty sure half the team would throw me under a Zamboni if they thought it would help them make the league.”
Bailey blinked slowly at that. “Okay.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “Did you seek me out at the bar because you knew who I was?”
“No, I didn’t know. Not until you came back, anyway.”
“But you came up to me tonight to piss off the team,” she said.
“Honestly?” I pinned her with my gaze. “Partly. But also, it looked like you could use a friend.” When I’d walked out of the locker room, that stricken look on her face was all I could see. It pissed me off, especially because that douche Morrison had put it there. I couldn’t not do something.
She bristled. “I have friends.”