Page 53 of Pick Me

Britt’s texts flashed in my mind. The nagging thought that maybe he’d sent them to mess with me lingered.

My stomach lurched as Jackson opened the door. “Come on in,” he said to Henry. “I’m sure Thea wants you to have a coffee before you make your long, treacherous journey up the stairs.” His lips quirked. Was he trying to ruin this for me?

“Are you sure?” Henry asked from behind. Although I was shooting daggers at Jackson, he was ignoring me. So I decided to take a different approach. If Jackson wanted to be annoying, I could be too.

“Of course,” I cooed, looping my arm through Henry’s. He tensed, probably surprised since I rejected contact earlier. I squeezed his bicep, pretending to be impressed. “Wow, this jacket really hides how muscular you are, Henry.”

He let out an awkward chuckle. “I guess I should’ve offered you my jacket.”

“Come on in,” Jackson said, interrupting us yet again, holding the door open like a damn doorman.

He wanted to play. Fine.

I lifted my chin and led Henry inside, pretending I wasn’t irritated when they fist-bumped.Men.

“Missed you at The Draft this week,” Henry said as I pulled him into the kitchen.

“That’s because the draft is next week. And Jackson’s not going to be anywhere near it.”

Jackson snorted, following closely behind us. “He meant the dating mixer on campus. Surprised you didn’t go.”

“Oh, that draft.” I waved Jackson off, laughing. “I wasn’t interested.”

“Yes, I vaguely remember you saying that all athletes besides your brother were meatheads and not worth your time.”

Jackson was going all out trying to ruin this for me.Jackass.

Henry shot me a curious glance, but I brushed it off. “I wasn’t talking abouthockeyplayers. Just football players. The fact that Jackson didn’t understand that just proves what a meathead he is.”

“Whoa.”

“Ouch, Pyro. That cut deep,” Jackson said as he grabbed his beer from the coffee table and relaxed onto the couch. “Grand Slam!” he shouted at the TV. Fireworks exploded on the screen as a hunky blond man rounded the bases. Yeah, it was definitely only meatball football heads I wasn’t interested in. Did I just say meatball? Was my brain malfunctioning over that baseball player’s hotness?

“Wow. That guy is ridiculous,” Henry said, shaking free of me and strolling to the back of the couch so he was just behind Jackson.

“And so fun to watch. Tate’s one of the best baseball players the MLB has ever seen.”

“You’re telling me,” I muttered as I walked over to the kitchen and pulled out a soda from the fridge. “Would you like something to drink?” I asked with pointed annoyance as I kept my face in the cool air.

“I’d love another beer, gorgeous.”

I banged my head against the shelf in pure shock. Did… did Jackson just call me gorgeous? Snapping my gaze to the living room, I found Henry sitting beside Jackson, ignoring me.

So much for making him jealous.

I sighed and flopped onto the recliner, glaring at the TV but giving Henry passing glances every few seconds.

Why was I pretending there was chemistry there?

Henry was sitting closer to Jackson than he had me the entire night. If I left, maybe they could have the alone time they were craving.

Wait… was I jealous?

“Where’s my beer?” Jackson threw a smirk in my direction.

“You can get it yourself. You could use the cardio.”

Henry took in a sharp breath, and Jackson laughed. As usual, he knew how to annoy me without having to try.

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