Page 53 of The Deal

“Home,” comes his muffled response. “We invited a few people over to watch the game.”

A few people? It sounds like he’s in the middle of Times Square.

“So you’re coming at nine?”

I swallow my aggravation. “No, at seven. Is that okay?”

“Garrett, beer me!” a voice ripples over the line. Judging by the faint Texas drawl, it must be Tucker.

“Hold on, Wellsy. One sec.” A rustling meets my ear, followed by a howl of laughter, and then Garrett comes back. “Okay, tomorrow at nine then.”

“Seven!”

“Right, seven. Sorry, I can’t hear you at all. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hangs up on me, but I don’t care. I’ve discovered this past week that Garrett never takes the time to say goodbye on the phone. It annoyed me at first, but now I sort of appreciate his time-saving approach.

I shove my phone in my apron and reenter the main room to tell Allie I’m good to go for tomorrow night, and she squeals in response. “Yay! I can’t wait to get my Gosling on. Hottest. Guy. Ever.”

“I’m sitting right here, you know,” Sean grumbles.

“Babe, have you seen that man’s abs?” she demands.

He sighs.

The following night, I show up at Garrett’s house at seven o’clock sharp and let myself in as usual. Before I head upstairs, I poke my head into the living room to say hi to Logan and the guys. Logan’s not there, but Tuck and Dean are, and they glance up in confusion when they spot me.

“Hey, Wellsy.” Tucker wrinkles his forehead. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Tutoring your captain, what else?” Rolling my eyes, I start to edge away from the doorway.

“You don’t want to go up there, baby doll,” Dean calls out.

I stop in my tracks. “Why not?”

His light-green eyes gleam in amusement. “Uh…he might have forgotten.”

“Well, then I’ll go up and remind him.”

A minute later, I completely regret that course of action.

“Yo, Graham, let’s get this over with so I can—” I halt midsentence, freezing like a deer in headlights after I open the door.

Embarrassment slams into me when I register what I’m seeing.

Garrett is lying on the bed in all his bare-chested glory…while a naked girl straddles his thighs.

Yep, Miss Thang is buck-naked, and she whirls around in a cloud of blond hair at the sound of my voice. Perky breasts assault my vision, but I don’t have time to judge them one way or the other because her ear-piercing screech cuts through the air.

“What the hell!”

“Shit. I’m so sorry,” I blurt out.

Then I slam the door and race downstairs like I’m being chased by a serial killer.

When I stumble into the living room a moment later, I’m greeted by two grinning faces. “We told you not to go up there,” Tucker says with a sigh.

Dean’s grin widens. “How was the show? We can’t hear much from down here, but I have a feeling she’s a screamer.”

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