Page 17 of Say Yes to the Nemesis
I may just be a poli-sci major, but I graduated with a three point eight from a hard school. I’m not dumb, no matter how often Wren insists otherwise.
I hold out her coat. “Put this on.”
She gives me a flat look and rolls her eyes.
“I’m fine, Ryan. Seriously. Let it go. This isn’t…”
“You can’t just be dressed like that. You know men can see you, right?”
Wren pins me with a stare. “Whatever, Ryan. If you think you’re not gonna dream about me in this dress later, you’ve got another thing coming. I look good.”
She’s right, of course. There’s about zero chance I won’t jerk off to the image of her in that dress later. But that’s not the damn point.
“Whatever, Chirp.” I lift my chin. “Dream on.”
Two younger guys walk up to us, and at first, I assume they’re here to sweet-talk her. I give them the meanest look I can manage.
One of them is clutching a jersey. He takes a step back, eyes wide.
“Oh, sorry, man. I just… you’re Ryan Haart, aren’t you?”
I press my tongue against the inside of my cheek. Shit.
These guys aren’t leering at Jay’s little sister. They’re just hockey fans.
“This really isn’t the best time,” I hedge. “Can we do this later?”
The second guy, shorter and stockier, tries to wedge himself between me and Wren, basically pushing her out of the way to get to the bar. She stumbles back, frowning.
“Hey, watch it,” she snaps.
The guy doesn’t even look at her. He just thrusts a hat and a pen at me. “Sign this for me,” he demands.
Oh, hell no.
Nobody shoves my friends around to get to me.
I growl, “Were you raised in a fucking barn? You just shoved my friend out of the way. That’s disrespectful as hell.”
The two guys exchange awkward looks.
“Sorry, man,” the first one mutters. “We didn’t mean to interrupt…”
“We just wanted to say we’re really big fans,” the second one adds.
“I appreciate you watching my games,” I say, still blocking them. “But right now, I’m talking to her.”
Both of them reflexively glance at Wren. The stockier guy seems to put two and two together.
“Oh, sorry, man. Didn’t mean to intrude on your date.”
Wren lets out a disgusted sound. My eye twitches.
I corral both guys and move them back a few steps. “Have a good night.”
Wren sips her cider and watches them as they go, muttering to each other.
“Sorry about that. You know how fans are,” I say.
