Turning to lean my left hip into the counter, I paste on a smirk. “He ain’t nearly smart enough to get under your skin.”
Sally’s shoulders rise on an inhale as she glances across the bar. I follow her gaze to see Brianna, Lennon, and Caitlin watching us intently.
“See?” Sally asks. “You get attention, even when you’re talking to another girl.”
“Well, yeah. That’s how it works.”
“How what works?”
“You gotta play the game. Jealousy is a powerful aphrodisiac.”
Sally turns those big brown eyes on me. They shine with a funny little spark, igniting the flecks of gold in her irises. “Really?” Her flat delivery of the word drips with judgment and something else. Something that sounds suspiciously like…curiosity?
“Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just play by them.”
She grins. “Hate the game, not the player. Thatwouldbe your MO.”
“C’mon, Sunshine.” I’ve missed how much this girl makesme smile, despite the seriouslyunfunny things happening inside my chest. “You could never hate me.”
“Show me, Wy.”
My heart does that lurching thing again. “Show you what?”
“How to play. It’s been forever since I had fun like that.”
Heat rips through my skin. Sweat prickles along my scalp and inside my collar.
God almighty.
This girl don’t know what she’s asking.
She doesn’t know that asking me toshow herhas me thinking about showing her lots of things. Most of them involving nudity and my face between her legs.
Legs that are very much on display in tight jeans. She’s wearing a pair of fire-engine-red Bellamy Brooks boots, which hug her calves like a second skin.
“I’m not helping you get laid, Sally,” I manage, bringing my beer to my lips.
“I’m not asking, Wyatt.” She’s still grinning.
There ain’t a thing on God’s green earth I wouldn’t give this girl.
And, yeah, maybe the thought of making Beck Wallace jealous appeals to me, even if Sally’s endgame doesn’t.
Tonight, Sally will be in my arms.
Tonight, she’ll only have eyes for me. That’s enough.
That has to be enough, because the whole point of me doing this—showing Sally how to play the game—is for her to ultimately end up in someone else’s bed.
Who knows? Maybe seeing her with Beck will finally make it click that she and I aren’t meant to be. It’ll suck, but it’ll be like ripping off a Band-Aid. Once it’s done, it’s done.
I’ll be done with the world’s most serious case of unrequited love.
“You wanna learn from the master”—draining my beer, I set it on the bar—“you gotta do as I say.”
“Ooh.” Sally wiggles her shoulders in an adorable fake shiver. “I like the bossiness, Wy.”
I nod over her head to the dance floor. There’s no live band, but the playlist tonight is a vibe, filled with the kind of country that makes you wanna move. It’s a mix of new artists and ’90s greats—from Shaboozey to old-school Alan Jackson. Couples flock to the floor, along with girls in groups of two or three.