Page 50 of Beautifully Devoted

“I saw a guy on the way in that reminded me of him.”

“Reminded you how?” Cruz asks.

“Not sure.” Cam lifts a shoulder as he takes a swallow of beer. “Just a feeling I guess.”

“No way it’s a scout then,” I tell him. “No scout would still be here weeks later.”

“What if he lives here?” Liam asks.

“Why would he live here? If he works for a pro team he’d probably live by that team,” I point out.

“Not necessarily,” Liam says. “My dad was friends with a guy who scouted for Nashville but lived in Arizona. Since he wasn’t a coach, just the guy who traveled around looking at prospects, he could live wherever he wanted.”

“Huh,” I mutter. “Never thought of it that way. Still, if it was the same guy, he’s probably just a rando like Bennet said.”

“Probably.” Cam nods his head, eyes catching on something that makes them narrow. I twist back around to see a group of girls headed our way, and my stomach sinks.

Leading the pack is the girl I hooked up with several weeks back, Anna, who I mistakenly—drunkenly I assume—gave my number to. I’ve been dodging her for weeks, respectfully of course, telling her I was too busy with classes and practice to get together.

That’s not untrue either. I have been busy. It’s just that when I’m not, like right now, I haven’t reached out.

Cam puts his hand on my hip as she gets closer, but either the table blocks her view, or she ignores it. The fact I’m propped on his leg doesn’t seem to faze her either since she keeps coming toward me with a suggestive smile.

“Hey.” She walks right up to me, boldly standing less than a foot away. I guess since we hooked up before she doesn’t consider that I might be with Cam. Technically, I’m not, but a few inches to the right and I’d be riding his dick, so you’d think that would give her pause. It doesn’t, so her audacity sort of rubs me the wrong way.

Funny, I probably wouldn’t have thought twice about it a few weeks back, since I use Cam as my chair a lot, but today her assumption that I’m not here with him bugs me.

“Finally got a break?” she asks.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Want to hang out?”

Cam’s fingers tighten on my hip, and I’d say he’s trying to steady me except for the fact they’re gripping kinda hard. Protective or…possessive. It makes my heartbeat speed up in a totally unexpected but not unpleasant way.

“We’re gonna play some pool,” I answer, pointing my thumb at Cam behind me.

“Can we join?” she asks.

I stall by sipping my beer, going for a polite yet disinterested vibe, which is sort of unfamiliar territory for me.

I sleep around a bit, true, but since I make it clear up front it’s a one-time, casual thing, I’ve never had anyone chase me for a repeat. If I happened to bump into a former hookup and they asked to go again I’d graciously decline and that’d be the end of it. Since I was too drunk to follow my typical protocol with this one, I’m in uncharted territory, and I don’t know what to do.

Obviously, I don’t want to be an ass and send her away, but I don’t want to lead her on, either. I’m dangerously close to the type of situations my dad would get himself into, which I swore I wouldn’t do, and I feel itchy and agitated at the prospect I’ve inadvertently mimicked his example.

“You play?” I finally ask her as the table opens up, and Liam and Cruz put their quarters in to start their game.

“You can teach us.” Her smile is a cross between bashful and sinful, and it strikes me yet again that straight Jagger would’ve said game on, but bi-curious Jagger isn’t impressed.

Interesting. When you take an interest in dicks does that replace your interest in pussy? Or is it just this girl who isn’t doing anything for me? I do remember her being sort of loud in a way that didn’t turn me on, so maybe that’s the issue.

I cast a subtle glance at the rest of her friends, all very attractive, and one that has the perfect amount of curve to her otherwise athletic build. My cock doesn’t perk up exactly, but it feels mildly interested. Hmm. Maybe I’m just getting more picky.

Cam squeezes my hip, snapping me out of yet another rabbit hole I’d been venturing into, and I realize I haven’t answered. I still don’t know how.

As always, my best friend senses my hesitation, and steps in to take care of it.

“Maybe another time,” he says. “We’ve got a housemate bet going on.”

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