Page 65 of Love on the Waiver Wire

I shake my head. “There’s nothing sexy about his, Leo.”

“I would hope it wouldn’t be sexy for you, dumbass.”

“I think it looks good! Amara says, and I look back at her, amazed that she had something nice to say to him while he looks like some type of decomposing elf.

“You’ve never seen Lord of the Rings?” she asks, shocked.

I shake my head. I’m not sure I have.

“Well that’s our next order of business,” Amara tells me, taking off to get another drink.

“Did you lose a bet?” I ask Leo.

“Nope,” he says, crossing his arms. “I’ve been planning it for months.”

“Well it’s certainly something,”

“Thanks. Hey, what are you guys up to?” He quickly turns to Cooper and Emmett, his eyes narrowing at the later.

“We got them in earlier so they didn’t have to wait in the cold,” Cooper tells him, quickly realizing Leo is being weird about me. “Was just keeping them company and protecting them from any weirdos in bald caps.”

Leo high-fives him. “You’re the best.”

Mila and Heidi are busy laughing behind me, and I down the rest of my drink. I ask them if they want anything else and make my way back to the bar after handing Heidi her sweatshirt back. I’m not going to steal it all night. If Leo wants to be an ass than he can be an ass.

I’m only there a minute before I feel a hand on my back. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” a deep voice says into my ear, his breath tickling me.

“I think I’m more concerned about how you knew it was me.”

“You think I don’t notice your butt when you walk around your place in those tiny shorts? Peaches, please.”

I let out a chuckle, grabbing my new drink and turning to Owen.

And I stop. Again. For the second time tonight.

Owen is a cowboy. A very shirtless cowboy. A cowboy wearing a pair of tight shorts and assless chaps.

“Jesus Christ—” I breathe.

“It’s good, right?” he asks, spinning around.

“A cowboy?”

He motions back to the corner I came from. “Technically cowboy Ken. Emmett’s my Barbie.”

I nod, still trying to process the image in front of me.

Which is when he actually takes in my appearance, too.

“Pretty girl are you Padme?”

“I think you need to pick one nickname and stick with it,” I tell him with an eyeroll.

“I like both.”

“I like neither.”

“Don’t lie to me, Isla. I’ve seen how flustered you get.”

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