Page 2 of The Fake Play

Alek glares at both of us before breaking into a hell of a laugh. “We will go to Florida, then Canada, and you will see which one is most dangerous.”

“Right after I get the librarian's number,” I say. “Wish me luck, guys.”

Xavi scoffs. “If you get her number, I’ll pay your tab for the night. She is not having it, I’m telling you.”

“You’re on. What do I get if I get a kiss?”

He snorts derisively. “I’ll loan you my car for a month.”

The guys gasp, their eyes going wide in response to his wager. Hell, even I’m shocked. Xavi loves his ’79 Pontiac Firebird more than life itself. The kid polishes that thing to a gleaming shineevery weekend, not a scratch on her. It’s brown with a gold firebird on the hood and original chrome around the windows. In short, it’s hideous, but he adores it. For him to risk a month without his precious baby, I know he’s serious about the girl’s unwillingness to be wooed.

I grin. “Game on.”

The walk from your table to a girl in a bar feels like the longest walk on the planet. Doesn't matter how confident you are or how much game you spit. Every guy is nervous. He'll never admit to it, but he is.

By the time I reach her, I talked myself in and out it half a dozen times. As much as I don’t want to drive Xavi’s car, I have pride on the line and a two-hour beer tab. I’m not backing down, regardless of the consequences.

The seat next to her is empty, so I lean in on the bar there. “They say all the good pick-up lines are taken. Are you?”

Before responding, she slips a book mark in to keep her page, not one willing to fold the corners. She takes care of things that mean something to her.

As she turns to face me, I note her features. She’s likely in her mid-twenties but her green eyes are haunted with unknown tales, making her appear to be an old soul. She has a slightly upturned nose and very full lips that don’t spread into a smile as I had hoped. Round cheeks, a slight scar at her left eyebrow. Her heart-shaped face leaves nothing to be desired.

“Did you really just try a cheesy pick-up line on me?” Her voice is flat yet somehow musical.

This woman is already shaping up to be an enigma.

“Cheesy is my middle name. Just kidding, actually, it's Fox. Hi. I’m Luke Smith,” I say, reaching out to shake her hand.

“Fox?” she asks as she takes my hand and turns it over.

I watch her examine the back of my hand, followed by the other one. “Yes. What are you looking for?”

“Signs of a wedding ring. Only married guys and dads are that cheesy.” She sets my hand aside and sips her drink.

“Well, I'm neither. I didn't catch your name.”

“My name is No.”

I chuckle, undeterred. “What are you reading?”

“A book.”

“I know I don’t look like it, but I was clever enough to figure that out for myself. What's the title?”

She sighs, clearly annoyed with me. I don’t know why that makes me want her more. Maybe I just like a challenge. Especially with all my team watching.

“If I give you the name of the book, will you leave me alone?”

“Did someone just break up with you or something?”

“I don't see how that's any of your business.”

“Forgive me, but I'm not used to women brushing me off. You’ve made me curious.”

She leans on her elbow, fingers at her temple, almost as if she’s trying to rub away a headache. “I didn't make you do anything, Luke. You chose to be nosey.”

She’s got a good point, I can’t argue with that. “True. I'll buy your next round if you tell me what the title of your book is.”

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