Page 29 of Play Maker

I blow a breath upward, making the hairs fall out of my braid and cross my eyes, which makes her smile.

Mission accomplished. Now focus, Lo.

I pour three beers in a row, flash a smile I don’t feel, and slide the pints across the bar without missing a beat.

Serve the drinks. Smile at the regulars because this is totally not their fault, and they don’t deserve my piss-poor attitude, my self-inflicted sour mood, my …

I hear Riley hoot and see her throwing her arms in the air. Without looking at the TV, I cheer, too, knowing we’re all pulling for the same team today, one we know we can beat—Dallas.

The next time the door opens, Skinner walks in, grinning like a fool, and Kolby is right behind him.

“Sorry we’re late. I had to wait for my buddy to finish his nap.”

His nap? So not fair!

Heavy boots, black Henley, jeans slung low enough to make my stomach tighten. Hat pulled down, shielding his eyes, jaw locked so tight he probably couldn’t spit if he wanted to.

He moves through the crowd like he’s hunting something.

Me.

He leans across the bar, voice low enough it barely cuts through the noise. “You seen my phone?”

I tuck a stray hair behind my ear, shrugging one shoulder like it’s no big deal. “Tossed it to you when you were sneaking out like a bad one-night stand.”

His mouth tightens, but his eyes—God, his eyes—flash. Frustration. Embarrassment. Heat. Hard to tell, he’s clearly a mood box.

“You shouldn’t say shit like that,” he mutters, low and dark. “People are already watching.”

I tip my head, faux innocence. “Maybe you should get over yourself, Grimes.”

And because I’m already f’ed a little in the head, I turn toward the cluster of security guys posted by the back door.

Commandos.

I pick the one closest to me—tall, dark hair, easy grin—and flash him the kind of look that saysI’m available and mildly interested.

He catches it and grins back.

I walk him over a drink.

“No alcohol for me till after the season ends.”

“It’s soda water and lemon. It’ll help you blend in.”

He takes it, smiling, “Appreciate it.”

“I appreciate what you’re all doing.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kolby go absolutely still.

Good. He deserves to stew a little.

I smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.” I walk away, and yes, I take a tip from the Jade Brooks playbook and sway my hips a little more than usual.

Hands jammed in his pockets, shoulders stiff, jaw ticking like a bomb counting down—that’s Kolby.

“Take a break; get something to eat,” Riley says, smacking me on the ass as she heads behind the bar. “We got halftime.”

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