Page 14 of Off Camera
I’m the awkward guy who doesn’t realize someone is flirting with me until my friends are giving me shit for not getting her number.
And proposing a one-night stand?
Yeah, right.
I’m the furthest thing from impulsive.
I like to think things through.
I’m into logistics. Numbers and data and analytics.
More pragmatic than idealistic, I prefer to look at all the angles of a problem before determining its possible outcomes.
Asking Avery—who I’ve known for all of five hours—if I can fuck her sounds like a recipe for disaster.
I can think of a million ways it could go wrong: a drink tossed in my face. Getting slapped. Being subjected to hysterical laughter.
The thought of that kind of humiliation makes my skin crawl.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Maverick says as the last of the guests take their seats. “After Dallas and Maven cut the cake and have their first dance, you’re going to find your girl.”
“She’s not my girl,” I say, and he snorts.
“She’s your girl. This is fucking destiny, man. You’re going to hand her a glass of champagne and sit with her. I’m going to pay the DJ a shit ton of money to put on a slow song. You’ll say something along the lines of, ‘So. About that dance.’ Then, you’ll lead her onto the dance floor, hold her close, and just enjoy the moment, Reid. If it feels right, kiss her. If it doesn’t, talksome more and get to know her. You don’t know what’s going to happen unless you try.”
“What the hell? Youarea relationship expert. When did this happen?” I ask. It’s the same thing I would’ve told him if he were asking me for advice. “I still remember the time you forgot a woman’s name eight seconds after she introduced herself to you.”
“Falling in love with someone who keeps me in my place helps.” His smile is wry. “I think I’m shit at it half the time, but she’s sticking around. I must be doing something right.”
“You’re doing a lot of things right, Mav.” I nudge his side, and he beams. “You’d really pay the DJ to play a slow song for me?”
“Of course I would. I did it at the hockey gala last year so I could dance with Emmy. Why wouldn’t I do it again so you can have a few minutes with this woman?”
“You’re a good friend.”
“Call it premature best man duties for your wedding somewhere down the road. Dallas has you. I have him, and you have me.” Maverick cranes his neck. The music starts, and the crowd turns quiet. “Which one is she? The one in the second row? Blondes aren’t usually your type.”
“You’re really bad at being discreet, aren’t you?”
I search the room, and I spot Avery right away. She’s sitting at the back of the ballroom, sandwiched between two women and staring at me.
I check over my shoulder, expecting to find her eyeing Maverick or Jett, the Titans’ quarterback and one of Dallas’s groomsmen. When I glance back at her, she’s biting her bottom lip and trying not to laugh.
And she’s still looking at me.
I’ve never been one for attention, but I like it from her.
“There,” I whisper.
“Where?” Maverick asks out of the corner of his mouth when Dallas gives us a sharp look.
“Four rows from the back. Black dress and brown hair.”
“That’s literally half the women here. Wait. I think I see her. Oh, shit, Reid. She’s pretty.” He waves, and I bat his hand away. “What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong withyou? What the hell are you doing?” I hiss.
“Saying hello because you clearly aren’t going to. I’m getting the ball rolling. Setting you up for the game-winning three-point shot. You’re welcome.”
