Page 60 of A Little Tempting

“And he wouldn’t have it any other way,” I agree. “Fucking martyr.”

The rest of the guys laugh again, and Maverick leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I’ve been thinking about it, though. I, uh, I think I want to take Ophelia to Homecoming.”

Griffin’s brows lift. “Homecoming?”

“Yeah.” Mav nods. “I know we’ve never gone to any of the others at LAU, and they’re kind of a pain in the ass, but…I dunno. I want to take her to a dance since I messed up the last one.”

“I fucking love dances,” I tell him. “What do you need from us?”

With a sigh, Mav rubs his hands along his thighs. “I, uh, I want you guys to come with. Get dates, split a limo, the whole thing.”

“You know Finley and Dylan will wanna come,” Griffin adds, already brainstorming and fine-tuning all the details like the captain he is, both on and off the ice.

Maverick nods. “Yeah, I figured.”

“Finley will probably twist her boyfriend’s arm to fly in and take her,” Everett adds, though he doesn’t look too happy about it.

“Which leaves Dylan,” I point out. A sly grin pulls at my face. “I’ll take her.”

“The fuck you will,” Everett argues. “You’re not going within ten feet of her.”

“Wait, what’d I miss?” Mav looks back and forth at the both of us, but I ignore him, focusing on the prickly asshole across from me. And here I thought we were making progress.

“Ah, come on, brother. You’re allowed to protect your own baby sister, but Dylan?” My tongue clicks against the roof of my mouth. “I think it’s Griffin’s job, don’t you?” I turn to the wild card who has way more power than I usually give anyone, especially when it comes to women I’m interested in. “So, what do you say, Griff? Can I take your baby sister to Homecoming?”

As the words leave my mouth, Everett’s gaze darkens, fucking blazing in my periphery, and I’m not the only one who notices. Griffin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and like Mav, his attention flicks from one friend to the next. I’m not an idiot. I know Griff and Everett are two peas in a fucking pod, but Griff isn’t the one cockblocking me left and right since the beginning of the semester, and he’s trying to figure out why his friend looks like he’s two seconds from having an aneurysm.

You gonna tell him, Ev? How you want in his sister’s pants?

“Hey, guys!” a girlish voice interrupts.

The sound cuts through the tension like a hot knife through butter. I turn around on the couch and lean over the back, finding the culprits looking over the second-floor wrought iron railing. Finley and Dylan flank Ophelia’s sides as they take the stairs toward us.

Well, if it isn’t the little wallflower herself.

Dylan’s olive green pants and black crop top show a sliver of silky skin, and her hair is pulled into a high ponytail I’d love to wrap around my hand. She went shopping with her friends and their moms today, and her outfit looks new. Then again, so does her hair. It’s lighter. And those glasses? Fuck me, I’ve always been a sucker for a girl who’s unapologetically herself. Well, that and the whole sexy librarian bit. My mouth lifts as I picture Dylan in a tiny skirt.

“I thought I heard a few more manly voices down here,” Ophelia adds, pulling me from my daydream. “What’s up?” She passes hugs around to all of us guys like they’re confetti and plops between me and Maverick on the couch.

Leaning her head against Mav’s shoulder, she watches as her friends follow suit. Griffin and Everett push to their feet, pulling the girls into hugs, so I stand up as well, way more curious than I’d like to admit to see how Dylan will respond or if she’ll avoid me completely with her friends around.

Without batting an eye, Finley gives me a quick squeeze, and I watch from over her head as Everett hugs Dylan. I wonder if anyone else notices the way he lingers. The way he kisses her temple, his focus locked on me. My eyes thin at the innocent contact as I let Finley go, waiting for Dylan to approach me.

She never does. Instead, she moves to the edge of the room, looking awkward as fuck with her glasses propped on the end of her button nose and her arms folded, her gaze roaming every inch of the room except where I stand.

And because I’m a glutton for punishment, and I love watching her squirm, I approach her, keeping my voice low as I watch the way her pretty little throat tightens with a gulp. “You’re cute when you’re shy,” I murmur.

She rolls her eyes, finally acknowledging me, and offers me her hand. To shake. Like I’m a stranger.

“Oh my gosh! Dylan, you’re making it weird,” Finley protests.

“Am I?” Dylan’s wide eyes remind me of a deer in headlights. “I don’t know?—”

With a laugh, I take Dylan’s hand before she has a chance to rescind her offer. My own practically swallows her dainty little palm as I lift it to my lips and kiss the back. “There. I made it weirder.”

Her lips bunch on one side like she’s fighting her amusement and relief.

Well aware she isn’t one for the spotlight, I let go of her hand and ask, “Another headache?”

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