Page 19 of Pucking Never

As I look around at all of them—my brother, his friends—I can’t help but feel like an outsider in their tight-knit circle.

I feel Jensen’s arm slip around the back of my barstool, his fingers ever so slightly grazing my shoulder. I freeze in surprise. My heart is pounding so loudly that I’m sure everyone can hear it. However, when I glance at Carson to gauge his reaction, he’s oblivious. He's distracted by his other teammates and the girls that have started filtering into their group like a flock of pigeons descending on loose bread chunks.

Jensen clears his throat, pulling my attention back to him. He's looking at me with a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I swallow hard, trying not to get lost in those mesmerizing green eyes.

“Do you want another drink, Grace?” he asks.

My mouth is dry. I can't seem to make words form.

“Sure,” I finally say, trying to sound casual. “Sure, I’ll take another.”

He signals the bartender over, who of course knows him by name, and orders me another beer. I try to maintain a polite, aloof facade as Jensen turns his attention back to me. “Having fun?” he asks with a grin.

“I’m having a blast,” I reply, my tone tight. What’s his game? I know he’s up to something. He’s got a sly look in his eyes that makes me think he’s plotting.

His grin widens.

"Good," he says, never breaking eye contact. This man is intent on making me squirm, and I hate admitting to myself that it's working.

Carson stands up again, grabbing everyone's attention. "Hey guys! Let's play some pool." His announcement is met with cheers and a collective move towards the pool tables at the back of the bar. Carson throws me a lighthearted glance. “You coming, Gracie?” he calls out. “Reece?”

“I’m good,” I tell him with a wave. Carson shrugs and leaves us behind, probably figuring this is a good chance for me and his best friend to “get to know each other.” After Carson is far away, Jensen nudges me.

"Why don't you go play?" Jensen asks, not moving from his stool.

"Not a fan of pool," I tell him, deciding if he really wants to know the real me, I might as well be honest. “Plus, I’m not overly interested in getting competitive with a group of pro athletes.”

He chuckles lightly, turning his stool towards me. “That’s fair. Then how about a dance?”

I arch a brow and look over his shoulder toward the dancefloor on the other side of the bar. It’s starting to fill up with couples and the thought of dancing with him makes my cheeks flush. It’s not a good idea, though. I need to keep him at arm’s length, especially when Carson is nearby.

“Probably not a good idea,” I say before taking a long sip of my beer.

He releases a breathy chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.”

He sounds disappointed, but he doesn’t ask me again. Silence falls between us, which seems that much starker given the noise and rowdiness of the bar. I start to feel a little bad for turning him down so bluntly, so I turn back to him, thinking I can at least talk to him.

I freeze when I see another woman standing on his other side, smiling and batting her long lashes as she steals his attention.

I watch as the woman—blonde, tall, legs for days—rests an impeccably manicured hand on Jensen’s arm. Her shiny red lips curve into a flirtatious smile. He turns towards her, giving her his full attention, and I feel a pang of something I can't quite identify.

Is it jealousy? No, it can’t be. It can’t be…and yet the pang is there and becoming a throbbing ache as I watch Jensen laugh at something the woman says.

I take another swig of my beer, the cold liquid not doing much to quench the sudden dryness of my throat. My heart pounds a little harder now, a sickening rhythm that mirrors my growing discomfort. I tell myself that it's absurd to feel this way. Jensen and I aren't anything. Our week in Miami doesn’t matter. Our intimate moment on the hilltop was a fluke. There’s nothing for me to be jealous of. He can flirt with whoever he wants.

Jensen leans closer to the blonde. The corners of his mouth curl into a charming smile. The woman giggles and leans in to whisper in his ear, pressing her breasts against his shoulder.

I’m on my feet before I realize I’m even moving. Without a word, I walk past Jensen, snagging his arm and hauling him to his feet then dragging him away from the blonde.

“Woah,” he chuckles, not fighting me as I pull him along. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” I snap. “You asked me to dance, so we’re going to dance. Got a problem with that?”

We reach the dancefloor and I spin around to face him. He’s grinning from ear-to-ear before wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against his chest. “No problem at all,” he growls, making me shiver.

My mind is shouting at me that this is a mistake, but my body is eager to see what comes next.

Chapter Eleven

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