Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
When the song ends, another immediately begins—but it’s slow. I don’t want to make things weird by asking Tess to dance again. It’s too intimate, and we’re not in that place, despite the fact that she dragged me out here.
I tip my imaginary hat to her before walking off the dance floor, leaving her behind.
Or at least I think that’s what I’m doing.
She’s on my heels, weaving through the crowded dance floor behind me, cocktail still in her hand.
I take a long pull from my beer bottle to empty it, then toss it in a nearby trash can.
Damn, that was tasty.
Cold.
Hit right.
“I hate when they play slow songs,” Tess grumbles to one of her friends—a brunette I don’t recognize. “Brianne, this is Drew. Drew, this is Brianne, one of Morgan’s bridesmaids.”
Another girl walks up to us. “And this is Sissy.”
I nod to them both, a Southern gentleman at heart, once again tipping that imaginary cowboy hat in their direction. “Ladies.”
“Drew Colter, as I live and breathe.” Sissy—whom I’ve never met and have only heard about—looks as if she belongs on a college campus in a sorority house, the kind of Southern girl you see screaming into the Rush Tok video and the kind of girl you stereotypically see dating athletes.
Any athlete ’cause that’s the only kind of guy a girl like her wants to date, and I can smell a cleat chaser from a mile away.
Drew Colter, as I live and breathe. We haven’t even met, so what is this girl going on about?
“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “Have we met?”
She giggles, shaking her head. “Not yet, but I’ve heard so many things about you.”
I’ll just bet she has, and they are, in no particular order:
1.I have a famous family
2.My father was inducted into the Football Hall of Fame
3.My brothers are rich and play football
4.My twin plays football
5.I play football
6.My twin will probably play professional football
7.I will probably play professional football
There’s no possible way she could have heard anything else, certainly nothing personal, as if my public persona were the only things that matter knowing.
Unfortunately for Sissy, she is only one of many who have tried hard—and failed—to impress me.
I could give a shit if she’s pretty.
I did not come home to be inundated with women like her, not in my backyard, where most people know me—the real me—and know better than to fangirl.
I channel my twin brother, who’s always been better at feigning off clingers-on than I am. I’m always too nice, and too polite, and worry too much about what people think.
But tonight, I’m not in the mood.
Not with Tess looking on with those wide doe eyes and pink metallic cowboy boots.
“So many things?” I tilt my head. “Like what?”
For real, tell me all about myself.
“I just heard you’re super good at football.”
I snort. “Okay.”
Sissy reaches forward to do that thing girls do when they think flirting and touching will have you melting at their feet and chasing after them simply because she giggled and ran a nail down your arm.
I pull away, stuffing my hand in my pocket. “It was nice meeting you. I’m gonna grab another drink.”
The three of them are left staring after me, and I let out a puff of air. Holy shit, I can’t believe I just did that! It felt so rude!
“Sorry about her.” Tess sidles up to me and sets her perspiring cocktail glass on the bar top. “She’s always like that.”
Yeah, she seems like the type.
I nod. “S’fine.”
“Are you having fun?”
“I think so.”
That makes her laugh. “You think so?”
“Yes,” I amend. “I’m having fun. Lucas looks happy, and his bride seems cool.”
“She is pretty cool.” Tess puts her arms across the bar, waggling her fingertips until the bartender walks over.
He smiles, wiping down the counter with a white dish rag as he leans forward, grinning widely, wearing a plaid shirt with cut-off sleeves. I feel like a limp dick in my polo shirt compared to this guy.
“Hey, darlin’, what can I get you?”
“Yes, please.” She tosses her hair. “I’ll have a vodka tonic, and my friend here will have…” She waits for me to fill in the blank with my drink order.
“A lite beer.”
“And my friend here will have a lite beer.” Tess winks at me, and I wonder if she’s in the habit of winking a lot or if she’s decided it’s fun to make me squirm.
“Vodka tonic and a lite beer comin right up.” The guy goes to fetch our drinks but pauses, doubling back and squinting across the bar at me. “Hey. Ain’t you one of the Colter boys?”
I nod. “I’m Drew.” I put my hand across the bar to shake his. “Good to meet you.”
“I’m Dillon. Huge fan of your brothers—and yours of course. You one of the twins?”
I nod again. “Yup, one of the twins.”
“That’s so fucking cool! What are you doing in town? Don’t you boys play for Wisconsin?”