Page 119 of Off Camera
Now who’s the needy slut?
Me
Only for you, beauty queen.
It feelsgood to sit at the table in the dark corner of the tiny bar and sip a beer with my friends. I haven’t hung out with Dallas and Maverick in a week and a half, and even though we’re an hour past the time I’d prefer to be home and winding down for the night, I can’t find it in me to complain.
“We haven’t been here in ages,” I say. “Thank fuck for the bye week and the one time a season Dallas drinks. You two keep this place in business with your tipping, and I’d hate for it to go under.”
“It must be nice to have such an easy schedule,” Maverick says. “I’m out here covering four time zones in five days. Busting my ass between Eastern and Pacific Standard, and you all are on a twenty-minute flight to Cleveland.”
“You wouldn’t last a second in the NFL, pretty boy,” Dallas says.
“Hey. Only Emmy is allowed to call me that.” He grabs his glass and downs half his drink. “She’ll kick your ass if she hears you using her nickname for me.”
“How did you get that nickname?” I ask. “Please don’t tell me it’s some inside joke involving sex.”
“Nah.” Maverick grins. “I’ve been ashamed to tell the story, but now that there’s a ring on her finger, I think it’s safe to say she’s accepted the fact I’m never going to leave her alone. She’s stuck with me for life. The first day we met, I assumed she was a fan waiting at the arena for me.”
“How the hell did you make that mistake?” Dallas asks. “Emmy could kick my ass in an arm wrestling contest.”
“It was stupid,” Maverick says. “I saw a hot girl and got all flustered. I hit on her, and she didn’t like that I didn’t know whoshe was. She told me the only thing she wanted to do with me was kick my ass on the ice, I was giddy she called me pretty, and the name started.”
“And now you two are living happily ever after.” I lift my drink his way, and he knocks his glass against my bottle. “How’s the wedding planning coming? Have you two locked down a date yet? A venue? Anything?”
“I’m going to have grandchildren before he makes a damn decision,” Dallas grumbles.
“Emmy and I hardly get any time together with our travel schedules. When we are alone, I don’t want to spend the afternoon we’re in the apartment talking about flower arrangements and centerpieces.” Maverick shrugs. “It’ll happen when it happens. Maybe it won’t ever happen. Maybe we’ll go to Vegas and do it. Or Mexico. Hell, maybe I’ll have an officiant come out when we play against her team next month and we can do it before the game.”
“Those all seem tame for you,” I say. “Surprised there isn’t any mention of fire or something dramatic as fuck.”
“Don’t give him ideas,” Dallas warns, and I laugh.
“Speaking of Emmy, where are your better halves tonight? It’s normally impossible to separate you all. I haven’t been the fifth wheel in a while, and I kind of miss it. You two don’t have nearly as much gossip as the girls do.”
“Mae told me they’re meeting Avery for some drinks,” Dallas tells me. “Girl’s night.”
“That’s right.” I remember her telling me about the outfit she was going to wear when she was falling asleep in my arms last night. “The three of them are probably trouble when they’re together.”
“They could probably take over the world,” Maverick says, and he glances over my shoulder with a sharp grin. “Andspeaking of trouble, look who it is. Jesus, Dal. It’s like you and Mae are on the same brainwaves.”
I spin in the booth. I follow his line of sight to the door and the three women sauntering inside. Every guy in the bar watches them too, and I swear to god everything moves in slow motion.
There’s Maven with her blonde hair. Emmy with her fiery red and Avery with?—
Fucking hell.
The wind gets knocked out of me when I see thigh-high black boots and a mini skirt that barely covers her ass. Her top cuts off halfway up her stomach, showing off smooth skin.
I can tell from all the way over here she’s not wearing a bra, and she should definitely have a fucking coat on. It’s way too cold outside.
My throat goes dry.
Someone says my name, but I’m not listening. I’m too busy paying attention to the way Avery tosses her hair over her shoulder. The glitter on her neck that shimmers and sparkles under the shitty bar lighting. The bright red lipstick on her mouth and how I’d like it on my cock.
“Fuck me,” I mumble.
“You’re a good-looking guy, but you’re not really my type,” Maverick says.
