Page 10 of Fumbled Beginning

“I don’t play games, and I don’t do drama.”

She rolled her shoulders back, batted her eyes, and gave it one last-ditch effort. “You don’t need to get so worked up. Besides, I thought you’d like the ink?”

No, I didn’t like the ink. She knew nothing about me. She only got that tattoo because she was hoping to get something out of this. She was a cleat chaser who fucked for bragging rights.

I folded my arms across my chest. “Did you drive or do you need someone to call you an Uber?”

She eyed me up and down, debating whether to keep pushing or cut her losses. For her sake, I hoped she chose the latter.

“I can call my own damn ride. This party sucks anyway.” She pushed past the mass of people, huffing and puffing the entire way. If this wasn’t a wake-up call that this party life wasn’t for me anymore, I didn’t know what was. I had officially reached my limit, and it was time for a change.

My eyes searched for Rylee across the room. I walked outside and scanned the yard when I didn’t see her. Where the hell was she, and who invited her tonight? It sure as heck wasn’t me.

She was no stranger to the guys on the team. Most of them looked at her like she was a little sister or didn’t look at her at all. It was something Maverick drilled into the guys early on.

My mind started wandering, and I had to push down the possessive feelings prickling my skin. I had no claim to her whatsoever, but man, did I want to change that.

A streak of giggles and rowdy laughter came from my garage. I jogged across the yard, like a man on a mission, ignoring the people calling out my name, trying to suck me into meaningless conversation.

I wasn’t wasting any more time. I wanted her and wasn’t giving up until I had her.

My feet came to a sudden stop once I reached my garage. Rylee was bent over my pool table, cue stick in hand, trying to focus on her next move. She laughed at one of the rookies like he was the funniest guy in the room. I found myself smiling at her laugh until I noticed the back of her sweater was open, exposing tanned, smooth skin. I marched over when I caught a flock of my teammates making their way around the pool table.

“Would you like a little help?” I whispered into her left ear.

Her eyes flashed to mine. “Trying to distract me?”

“Nope.” I threw her a shit-eating grin. “Just trying to be a good friend.”

“Oh, so we’re friends now, huh?” Her eyes moved across the room as if she were searching for someone. “Speaking of friends, where’s your ‘new’ girlfriend?”

“What’s she talking about?” Rhett asked, striding toward us with a groupie under each arm.

“You”—I pointed to the little shit—“need to start doing a little vetting before you go giving out my address and inviting random cleat chasers into my home.”

Rhett’s arms fell from the girls’ shoulders. He took a swig of his beer, looking like he didn’t have the first clue what I was talking about. “Was there some type of problem?”

“There’s going to be a big problem if you don’t knock that shit off?”

Rylee’s eyes were twinkling in humor. “He’s upset because one of your guests was hoping for a marriage proposal.”

Rhett quirked a brow. “Which one?”

“The blonde on his lap earlier.” She grinned, clearly enjoying this too much.

I gave Rylee the evil eyes as she chalked up her pool stick. My eyes went to her tight jeans as she bent that sexy little ass of hers over my pool table. I loved my teammates like brothers and would have their back any day in a fight, but if they didn’t tear their eyes off her in the next second, no one could protect them from me.

I was unhinged when it came to that woman, and it was so unlike me. I wasn’t possessive. I wasn’t an asshole; I was just a man who was sick and tired of denying himself.

Rylee leaned back, sinking her teeth into that bottom lip as she watched the cue ball sink into the pocket right after the eight ball. Her shoulders slumped forward in defeat. She might have been good at many things, but she was horrible at playing pool. Maybe I should offer her private lessons.

“Better luck next time,” I said, standing at her back, blocking my teammate’s view.

Rylee picked up the red Solo cup and swallowed the blueberry-flavored vodka mixed with Sprite. “Not sure there will be a next time. I’d much rather play beer pong.”

“A girl after my own heart.” I moved her out of the way so Morris could rack the balls for the next game.

I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Would you like to go out back and get some fresh air?” She creased her brows, and I barked out a laugh. “I promise I don’t bite.” I leaned into her ear. “Unless you ask me to.”

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