Page 51 of Not Just a Trick Play

“It’s a free country. Besides, can’t a guy join his favorite sister?” I retort, pulling her into a hug.

“Can I record that and share it with the rest of the gang?” she asks, her tone a mix of exasperation and reluctant acceptance.

And incur the wrath of the other four? “Nope.”

“How’d you end up here, anyway?”

“Amelia mentioned it.”

Amelia casts a reproachful frown my way. Oh well. Yvonne’s brows draw together as she glances back and forth between us, as if she suspects what I’m up to. Not that I’mupto anything beyond learning more about my awesome city.

And watching out for them both.

Yvonne’s great at getting herself in trouble, plus fuck only knows the kind of man she’ll set Amelia up with.

I brace myself for the inevitable argument and prep my defenses. But before I can launch into them, a woman with fiery red hair sporting a neon vest hoists a placard showing a magnifying glass over a stylized city skyline above her head.

“Welcome to Stride and Seek Lower Manhattan!” her voice booms. “Stride and Seek is a part of the Gotham Guides, your ticket to unique New York adventures. We’ve got everything from spine-tingling haunted tours and graffiti walks to more traditional land, boat, and bus trips. Heck, we’ll even load you into a van to chase the best food trucks in town. My name is Corrine Hermanos, and today, in addition to exploring this historic neighborhood, you’ll also get a chance to meet and mingle. Here’s how it works. Pair up with a stranger, and strike up a conversation as we walk. After each stop, switch partners and start all over again. Now let’s go seek, stride, and explore NYC!”

Yvonne springs into action, rapidly sizing up the group’s male contingent before spinning back to us. “Right. So, here’s the game plan.We—”Her gaze makes it clear I’m part of thisscheme, prompting a sudden urge to thump my skull against something solid. The concrete base of the nearby George Washington statue looks convenient.“—find someone that’s Amelia’s type and pounce.”

She cocks her head at Amelia. “What is your type, anyway? Are we thinking tall, dark, and handsome? Blonde, blue-eyed, and bodacious?”

Without waiting for a response, she’s back to scrutinizing the crowd.

I inch closer to Amelia, drop my voice, angling my face up and posing for effect. “Brown haired, green-eyed specimen of perfection?” She shushes me, but there’s no concealing the smile tugging at her lips.

“Everyone paired up?” Corrine calls.

I’m about to claim Amelia as mine for the first round when Yvonne seizes her arm, targets the nearest suitable prey—a guy in a blue button-down who’s not objectively ugly—and shoves her forward.

“This is my friend, Amelia,” she announces, adding, “She’s from the UK. Isn’t her accent lovely? And she knows crypto inside out. Walk with her.”

Amelia is momentarily rooted to the spot, while the man checks her out head-to-toe like she’s a rare collectible and extends his hand with a cocky grin. When she puts on a hesitant smile and takes it, he lingers on it a second too long, his expression a shade too smug. Uneasiness spikes in my bones at the thought of her handing out more “performance reviews.”

Assured of Amelia’s immediate fate, Yvonne summons a Tech-Bro type with a crook of a finger. But she’s able to take care of herself. Mostly. Amelia on the other hand…

Before I can decide, a woman materializes beside me. “Hi, I’m Jenny,” she chirps, her voice slicing through my thoughts.

“Jake,” I reply, giving her a brief once-over. She’s in workout leggings paired with a tight matching jacket. It’s clear she keeps herself in good shape, and normally I might have been interested, but today’s not normal.

She leans in, a bit too close, and I catch the earthy, animalistic scent of oud, her gaze sweeping over me in a way that feels oddly invasive.

“Sooo nice to meet you,” she purrs. I guess we’re all on the meat market today.

“Don’t you just adore this? It’s like speed dating with cardio benefits,” Jenny continues, oblivious to my disinterest. “I enjoy the gym, but this is great for cooling down…” She bats her lashes. “Or maybe another opportunity to get sweaty?” She winks, fiddling with her jacket zipper in a move so cliché I almost expect a laugh track to follow. The zip gives way to an engineered marvel masquerading as a sports bra, drawing my attention to her boobs. I shrug half-heartedly. Not that it does anything to divert her.

“You seem like someone who knows their way around a gym. Do you lift?” she inquires, a playful smirk on her lips.

“Hmmm?” I glance at her, then my eyes stray back to Amelia.

“Your workout routine,” she prompts. “You’ve got one, right?”

“Yeah,” I grunt.

“And your diet must be pretty clean to match,” she continues, a hint of admiration in her voice.

“Yeah…” I’m a broken record, my gaze flickering to Amelia again.

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