Page 33 of Wild Love
“Gotta go, guys,” I say. “She wants to show me off.”
I dodge the elbow I know is coming and take a side step to safety. I’ve only been to Wild’s one other time, but it’s busier tonight than it had been then. Dakota weaves through tables and stops by the dartboards. A guy smiles at her in that way guys do with Dakota that she never seems to notice, and then his gaze slides to me, and his eyes bug out of his head.
“Johnny, this is my new friend and fellow intern, Reese. Reese, Jo—”
“Johnny Maverick,” he interjects. “Man, I am so glad you’re here. Could have used some of your points last season.”
“Reese is a fan,” Dakota says, eyes twinkling with amusement like she wasn’t just fangirling over Jack a few minutes ago.
“This is the guy you’re so pumped about?” A chick steps up beside him and gives me a once-over that makes me feel like I should shower. It isn’t sexual so much as it’s invasive.
“I thought you left,” Dakota says, lips pulling into a big, mocking smile. “Johnny, meet Quinn.”
“Nice to meet you.” I shake both their hands.
“I came back after I heard Jack made an appearance,” X-ray vision–Quinn says.
This Quinn chick smells like trouble. Hairspray, perfume, and a variety of other makeup and body products—lots of products. It has a smell, I swear. She’s gorgeous and done up in a way that says she’s down for wherever the night might lead her, but like she’s hoping that’s a six-course meal on a yacht.
When a chick looks like money, it either means she’s rich, or she’s looking to be. I’m polite as Dakota tells me how the three of them are working for Blythe this summer. Reese really is a fan, and he knows some of my stats from last season, which Dakota thinks is amusing and I think is awesome.
“We were about to start a new game.” Reese holds up a dart. “You two want in?”
“Yeah, let’s play doubles!” Quinn’s eyes light up, and she reaches for my arm.
Dakota backs up, eyeing Quinn’s fingers latched onto me. “We probably shouldn’t be seen getting too friendly with you.”
“Why not? Do I smell? I showered today and everything.”
Dakota rolls her eyes. I love it when she does that. Don’t tell her.
“We’re not supposed to fraternize with the players,” she says.
“What? Why not?”
“Long story,” Dakota says at the same time Quinn insists it’s fine.
“You guys go ahead. I was about to call it a night anyway.” She looks at her new friends. “See you tomorrow.”
Quinn takes a step closer to me, and her nails dig into my bicep. I’m starting to get the feeling she’s hoping to fuck herself into some Louboutins. I don’t like to judge, but she’s a little too eager.
“I think I’ll head back, too. I’m pretty beat.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Dakota insists.
“Nah, I want to.” I untangle myself from Quinn’s grasp. “Ready, babe?”
When we step out onto the sidewalk, Dakota bursts into laughter. “Babe? Did you just babe me to stop a girl from following you home? Or did you get her number, and she’s following in five?” She turns to look back at the bar entrance.
“That chick is dangerous.”
“Quinn? I think she’s all false bravados.”
“Uh-huh.” I don’t buy it.
“Oh, come on. Like you’ve never hooked up with a puck bunny.”
“These are professional puck bunnies, Kota. It’s a whole new league.” We shuffle down the sidewalk. The sun’s setting, and the foot traffic has slowed from earlier.
