“Ace!” one of the boys calls out, holding up a shot glass filled to the brim with amber liquid.
“Fuck,” Kai mutters, looking over my shoulder at the bar. “I can’t be doing shots.”
“No. I’m sure at thirty-two there’s no way your geriatric liver could handle it.”
“Are you calling me old, or are you trying to goad me?”
“Both.” I begin walking backward to the bar. “The other night you told me you had a wild streak. I want to see it. C’mon, Baseball Daddy, it’s time to find the other half of that balance I promised you—the fun.”
He leisurely wanders my way, but his long legs move much quicker than mine. With a single finger hooked into the waistband of my jeans, he not only stops me from getting farther away from him, but he pulls me back until my chest slams into his.
Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind, tonight is going to be fun.
He wets his bottom lip with a slick slide of his tongue. “What kind of fun are we talking about here?”
Jesus. I’m trying to hold it together, I really am, but all I can think about is climbing his giant body like a tree.
He chuckles at my frozen state, unhooking his finger to turn my hips back to the bar. “Come on, Mills. Show me how the youngins shoot the shots.”
“God, you’re a thirty-two-year-old Boomer, aren’t you?”
“Proudly.”
When we reach the bar and join his teammates, Travis takes the spot next to me, and I can feel the annoyance radiating off Kai’s body as he stands behind me.
Little does he know, Travis already told me back in the hotel lobby that the boys were all planning to rile up Kai tonight by conveniently never allowing him a moment alone with me, and who am I to interrupt team bonding, no matter how weirdly it’s done.
“Kai,” Isaiah calls out, holding up two shots.
He sighs, but he leaves to join his brother.
“Cinnamon whiskey.” Travis slides me one of the glasses.
A shiver rolls through me at the thought. It’s one of those “will not touch” liquors after puking my brains out from it on my twenty-first birthday. But there’s a smile on Kai’s lips, a lightness about him as he laughs with his brother, so fuck it, for tonight, cinnamon whiskey will be my liquor of choice.
It burns going down, and it takes everything in me to keep from gagging, but then I catch Kai staring straight at me as he throws back his own, and I refuse to let him know I’m suffering.
There’s only one instance in which I can see myself gagging in Kai Rhodes’ presence, and it sure as hell isn’t from liquor.
He steps forward, wiping his thumb across the corner of my lips to catch a rogue droplet of liquor. “You okay? You were so confident only a minute ago. You’re not going to gag, are you?”
I pop my shoulders. “Hopefully later.”
He shakes his head—his typical move when I’ve said something that’s caught him off guard. “You flirting with me, Montgomery?”
“Have been since we met. You gonna start flirting back?”
“Miller,” Isaiah interrupts before I can get Kai’s answer. “Can I have this dance please?”
When I agreed to this, I didn’t realize I’d be as annoyed with the lack of solo time. But Kai should know, it doesn’t matter which of his teammates it is, I have no interest in anyone else here. There’s been a single dad on my mind far too much for me to have the brain space for anyone else.
Isaiah’s smile is expectant, so I agree, putting my hand in his to allow him to lead me to the dance floor with a few of his other teammates.
“I have no idea how to dance to country music,” I shout over the live band.
“Me neither. I think we’re all going to look like idiots, but why not, right?”
Smiling, I look up at him only to make the mistake of directing my attention back to the bar.
Kai looks lethal, already with a beer in his hand, and the smile I was wearing falls when I catch his stare. He tracks me, his eyes dropping to where my hand is in his brother’s, before he pulls his beer to his lips.
We join the crowd for the next song.
“Here’s the thing.” Isaiah swings an arm over my shoulder and pulls me close, speaking into my ear. “I’m not into you.”
I bark out a laugh.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’d be different if I thought I had a shot in hell, but as it stands, I like my balls right where they are, and Monty scares me enough as it is. My big brother, however . . .”