Page 22 of Hat Trick Daddies

I need to set boundaries now, or I’ll never get through this. There are plenty of other people in this city I could date, people who aren’t connected to my work.

Heck, the bartender already hit on me tonight. Tyler isn’t the only guy in Minneapolis.

The sound of my car chiming in the distance pulls me from my thoughts, and I realize I’ve unconsciously pressed the button on my key fob. I exhale, watching my breath curl in the air, and start walking toward the car.

I’m standing near my car, trying to pull myself together when I hear footsteps crunching on the gravel behind me.

I turn and see the twins approaching, Tyler leading the way, his expression a mix of guilt and concern.

“Ally,” he says, his voice softer than I expected. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to steady my voice. “It’s fine,” I reply quickly. “I’m fine.”

But I’m not.

My cheeks are still warm, and my stomach feels like it’s full of knots.

The kiss wasn’t bad. It was incredible, actually, but I can’t let myself get swept up in it.

Nick hovers a few steps behind his brother, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He gives me a small, sheepish smile, clearly unsure of what to say.

Tyler rubs the back of his neck, his usual cocky confidence nowhere in sight. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Really.”

“I appreciate it,” I say, my tone gentler now. “But I think I’m just going to head home.”

“Are you sure?” Nick asks, stepping closer. “We can make it up to you. Another round? Non-alcoholic, maybe?”

I shake my head, forcing a smile. “No, thanks. I just need to call it a night.”

Before I can slip into my car, Brooks appears, stepping out of the bar with his jacket slung over one shoulder. He walks over, his brow furrowed.

“You’re not driving home,” he says flatly, his gaze sharp as it lands on me.

I blink, taken aback. “I’m fine, Brooks.”

“You’ve been drinking,” he points out, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Call an Uber.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “I’m fine, really.”

Brooks crosses his arms, his stance unyielding. “You’re not leaving here unless someone drives you or you take a ride share.”

I huff, trying not to let my frustration show. “Brooks, I appreciate the concern, but I’m perfectly capable of driving myself home.”

The twins exchange a look.

“Fine,” Brooks says eventually, his tone reluctant. “But text me when you get home. I want to know you made it safe.”

He holds out his hand and I stare at it stupidly for a moment. Then I realize that he wants me to give my phone to him so he can put his number into it.

“Oh…here,” I say awkwardly, handing him the device.

With a frown on his face, he uses his big fingers to add his contact information to my phone, then passes it back. It looks small in his big, strong hands.

I slide into my car. “I’ll text. I promise.”

He steps back, watching as I start the engine, his arms still crossed like he’s guarding the parking lot.

As I pull out of the lot, I glance in the rearview mirror. Brooks is standing near the twins, his hands moving as he gestures sharply at them.

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