Page 21 of Midnights
I’m going to blame it on the vodka-cran running wild through my system.
“Yup, you ladies will fit right in here,” the man says, his attention completely locked onto Rachel like they’re the only two people in the room. “How long are ye staying for?”
Yeah. That question is clearly meant just for her. I arch an eyebrow, smirking to myself.Well, well, well…
Rachel, to her credit, barely misses a beat. “We’re here for a few weeks, but we don’t really have anything specific planned. We just want to explore and do whatever.” She flashes a bright smile.
Which is hilarious, considering this is the same girl constantly worried about being trafficked, taken, or peeped on. But introduce a hot guy into the equation and suddenly, she’s very approachable.
The man looks seconds away from heart eyes, like he might actually need the napkin I used earlier.
“Why don’t you ladies bring your stuff over here and watch us play darts?” Tall, dark, and entirely too handsome says, resting his hands on Rachel’s shoulders, steering her toward a prime viewing spot. Then he gestures toward the table for me with an easy smile.
I trail behind, amused. Honestly, I’m kind of glad he’s more focused on her. If anyone can finally make her ditch that loser Bobby, it’s probably a hot Scottish man who looks like he wants to worship her.
Still, I’m not about to sit here and be eye candy while they show off.
“No offense,” I arch a brow, “but we didn’t come over here just to watch you play darts.”
The men exchange glances.
“We came to challenge you to a game,” I continue, flashing a grin. “And kick your ass. Boys against girls. We’re here to show you how it'sreallydone.”
Laughter erupts, and Rachel claps her hands together. “You heard her. Prepare to be humbled.”
A sharp snort to my right cuts through the laughter. I glance over, already knowing exactly who it is.The man of the hour himself.
Of course, it came from him.I was doing a perfectly fine job of pretending he didn’t exist.
No, we weren’t,my brain betrays me as a swarm of butterflies take flight in my stomach. I try to shut it down, but nope, they’re having a full-on parade.
He leans back against the table, arms folded, and exuding the kind of confidence that makes my teeth grind. “Sorry, but have you ever even played darts before?” His smile is infuriatingly perfect. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your manicure. Maybe you should sit this one out and just watch.”
Um, excuse me?
As if I'm about to let this motherfucker tell me what I can and can’t do.
Heat flares in my chest like a wildfire licking its way up my spine. My fingers twitch at my sides, tingling again with that same strange sensation. A pulse of warmth floods my fingertips and it's impossible to ignore.
Have I ever played darts before?No. But is that any of his business?Absolutely fucking not.
The nerve of him, assuming I’d ruin my nails. I curl my hands into fists, forcing a slow inhale.He’s not worth it.
But, God, how satisfying would it be to wipe that smug look off his face?
Rachel’s eyes flick to me and her expression shifts as she takes in my clenched fists. She knows me too well and can feel the shift in my energy. She’s probably already debating whether she needs to step in.
The bastard chuckles, completely unfazed, as he pushes off his chair and strides toward the dart board.
Okay, Raven, let’s be honest,we don’t actually know how to play darts.
I take a slow, steady breath.Calm down. Let’s think about this rationally.
When he glances back over his shoulder with that infuriatingly cocky look still in place, my temper snaps.
“Aw, well, that’s super nice and thoughtful of you,” my voice is all sugar and venom. “Are you the one celebrating his engagement?”
He stops mid-step, tilting his head slightly. One brow lifts, and the amusement in his eyes is quickly replaced by intrigue.
