Page 77 of Blindside Me
She may not be able to shout it out to the world that we’re together, but the silent statement she makes by wearing my jersey says it all—she belongs to me, not the douchebag hitting on her.
My knee starts bouncing under the table, restless. Ryan nudges me, then gives Easton a what-the-hell shrug.
“Bro, you good?” Easton whispers, not letting the girls hear. But he’s one to talk. He hasn’t taken his eyes off Callie this entire time.
I lock in on the movement at the bar. The guy leans in, too close, saying something in Jade’s ear. She doesn’t flinch and gives him a wicked, dismissive smile. One I know too well. It means try harder, see what happens.
The guy, older than me, maybe a grad student, flushes but pushes back. They volley a few more words. He gestures to her drink and signals the bartender. I hate him immediately.
She catches me watching and doesn’t break eye contact. I can’t decide if I want to walk over or turn away, so I just sit here, glued to the booth like a moron. My skin tingles with the memory of her shirt stretched across her back, the way her hips tucked under my hands. I want to touch her again, to remind myself I can.
Then the guy says something that makes her laugh for real, her head tipping back and the sound slicing through me. I bite down on jealousy so hard my teeth hurt. I try to play it cool, order another beer, but the heat in my cheeks and the tightness in my jaw give me away.
Ryan leans over. “Looks like your girl’s making friends. You gonna let that slide?”
I consider flipping him off, but don’t bother. Instead, I nurse my beer and stew in my seat, watching Jade toy with the guy. She always said she liked making people uncomfortable. Usually, that meant me.
“I just—” I swallow. Jade faces the bar, her jeans painted onto her legs, and I can’t stop staring. I can’t sit here, unable to go to her. “I just need some air.”
I set my beer down and push up from the booth, ignoring their surprised looks. The crowd parts for me as I stalk across the room. Maybe I look like I’m about to start a fight. Maybe I am.
My head spins with jealousy, need, and frustration as I head straight for Jade. Her back is still to me. And there it is again, my number, right above her perfect ass.
I can’t stop myself from reaching out when I pass and brushing my hand against her lower back. It’s possessive and intentional, but the joke is on me as electricity zips up my arm like a live wire straight to my chest. Jade stiffens, turning around, and her eyes meet mine with a snap. It’s like the rest of the bar doesn’t even exist.
Her skin burns into my palm like an aftershock. Even walking away, the imprint of her against my hand feels like she’s stitched into my fucking bloodstream.
I give her a look that says it all, hoping to see her crack. She doesn’t, but I keep walking straight to the hallway, away from the crowd.
I lean against the wall, thankful for the low-lighted sconces. Closing my eyes, I try to get a grip, but it just makes things worse. All I can think about is her sitting at the bar, wearing my number like a brand.
The sound of scuffling boots echoes down the hallway, and I know it’s her before she says a word. I crack my eyes open to find her standing there, half-smiling.
“You wore my number tonight,” I say. “You did that on purpose.”
She lifts her chin. “Maybe I just like the color blue.”
“Or maybe you like having me wrapped around you.”
“Don’t be so full of yourself, Hockey Boy.”
I look her up and down. I don’t bother to hide it.
She crosses her arms and leans a shoulder into the wall. The hallway’s empty except for us and the wash of golden light from the bar behind her. In this space, her eyes look almost silver. I wonder if she knows how badly I want her.
“Why are you out here?” she says.
I should give her some smooth lines, but I stick with the truth. “Couldn’t watch that guy hit on you anymore.”
Her lip quirks. “I was just getting a free drink.”
“Did you want it?” I nod to the beer in her hand.
She shrugs. “Not as much as I want other things.”
My hands go cold, then hot again. I step closer. The space between us warps, my body tuned to hers like a magnet.
She tilts her chin, looking up at me like a dare. “You gonna start a fight, Drew?”
