Page 4 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

All eyes turn to me.

Clearly, most of the guys are hockey players. There’s something about the way athletes carry themselves. Confidence bordering on arrogance. An aura screaming they’re on top of the world, even when they’re drunk off their asses. They also like to stay together. Like a pack of wolves or something. It’s rare to find one on their own out in the wild. And tonight isn’t any different.

They each take their turn scanning me up and down, probably wondering who the hell I am since they’ve never seen me before. Most of their mouths turn up into smirks as one of them––the previous winner-––motions to the now-empty space across from him.

“Be my guest.”

The guy’s cute. Or at least I think he is. There’s only one of him so far, so I don’t think my beer goggles are skewing his features, but the night’s still young. Dark, curly hair cropped short to his head. Dark skin. Dark eyes. Kind eyes. And his smile? Hello, handsome. His straight white teeth are freaking perfect and only add to his chiseled jaw and attractive features. He’s balancing himself on a set of crutches. His boyish grin is showcased as he laughs at something one of the other players is saying, though I don’t hear what’s said as I close the distance between us.

“Hi,” I greet him, offering my hand. “I should probably introduce myself before I beat your ass.”

He grins, looking like the perfect candidate to distract me from a certain someone I want to banish from my mind. A pinch of guilt spreads in my chest as I check out the stranger, but I shove it away. I don’t need to be loyal to Theo. I don’t owe him anything except maybe a dead leg for all the shit he’s put me through.

Besides, I’m here to turn over a new leaf. Meaning I should not be pining over someone who looks at me like I’m a little kid, thank you very much. And who better to distract me than the man in front of me?

The stranger chuckles and takes my offered hand. “Hey. I’m Burrows. Shawn,” he clarifies. “But everyone calls me Burrows.”

“Blakely,” I return. “Most people call me Blake. Nice to meet you.”

His eyes are curious as they slide down my body. The inspection doesn’t leave me feeling skeevy or anything. Only…curious.

“You too,” he replies. “You ready to play?”

“Yup.” I grab the Ping-Pong ball from Burrows’ grasp and toss it a few inches into the air. But as it comes back down, it misses my hand entirely and bounces off the ground, pulling a chuckle from the guy beside me.

“Are you usually this uncoordinated or have you already had a few drinks tonight?” Burrows asks.

My lips pull into a thin line. “No comment.”

His chuckle is warm and inviting as he grabs another Ping-Pong ball from the table, tosses it into the air, and successfully catches it. “Do you know the rules?”

“Yup.” Okay, I most definitely don’t, but it can’t be too hard, can it? “I bounce the ball, and if it falls into a cup, you have to drink it, right?”

“Yup. Pretty much sums it up.” He motions to the table. “But we’re gonna play on the same side of the table.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I’m afraid you might fall over after a round or two. Gotta keep you within arm’s length so I can catch you in case you pass out.”

I laugh. “You’re that confident you’re gonna win?”

He turns to me again, the same boyish grin turning my insides into melted butter as his eyes crinkle in the corners. “Yeah, Blake. I’m that confident.”

“Care to make it interesting?” I ask. I can’t help it. Even when the ground is spinning, I’m a competitive person, and he’s thrown down the gauntlet.

Burrows leans closer, balancing on his good leg while sidling up next to me. “Maybe. What’re the stakes?”

“If I win––”

“Blake!” Colt calls from the open French doors. My neck snaps in his direction, and I paste on a smile. “Yes?”

“You good out here?”

My grin widens. “Yup!”

He points his finger at Burrows. “She’s my little sister, man. Keep that in mind, all right?”

Burrows dips his chin. “Yeah, Colt. I got you.”

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