“Yo, Baby Thorne!” Tukani yells, interrupting us again. “You comin’ or what?”
“We’re coming!” I call back to him as Burrows presses his hand to my lower back and leads me outside.
However, when a certain childhood friend of Colt’s comes into view, my heels dig into the ground.
Bloody hell.
I thought he wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.
14
BLAKELY
Burrows looks back at me as I stop short on the back patio, my heart racing.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yo, Tay-looooor!” Tukani bellows, cupping his hands around his mouth. It doesn’t matter that Theo’s only a few yards away from the patio table. Tukani’s hell-bent on getting the guy’s attention. “What’s up, man?”
Understanding flashes in Burrows’ eyes. He wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me against him.
I should like it. His touch. Instead, my spine feels as straight and unmoldable as a freaking two-by-four.
Theo doesn’t answer Tukani. His attention is glued to Burrows’ arm wrapped around my waist.
And I feel like I’m caught in a trap. Like I’m prey. Like the damn lion in front of me isn’t afraid to pounce and rip me to shreds. Or maybe it’s Burrows he’s planning on tearing apart.
We haven’t spoken since our impromptu movie night. Other than the death glares he likes to toss at his teammates anytime they’re near me, he’s given me a wide berth. Which is exactly what I want.
Isn’t it?
If only it made me feel better or erased my attraction to the bastard.
Fun fact: It hasn’t.
“We were gonna play a game of Strip Pong,” Tukani adds, oblivious to our little stare down. “You in?” He ambles closer to Theo and cuts him from my view. Well, partially, anyway. Theo’s stupid forearms are still in perfect sight, looking all tight and muscular as they lead to his clenched fists at his sides.
Someone’s grouchy.
“Who’s ‘we’?” Theo demands.
Tukani waves his arm toward Burrows and me on the patio next to the French doors, then motions to the handful of other people chatting near the patio table. Most are hockey players, but there are a few puck bunnies mixed in.
Burrows bends closer but keeps his voice low. “Wanna go back inside?”
Tearing my attention from the impending shit show in front of me, I look up at Burrows. There’s worry in his eyes. Trepidation. Anxiousness.
Is it because Theo is here? Can he see right through me the same way Theo always does? Am I so easy to read? The thought eats at me as I force a smile. “I’m good with whatever––”
“Blake’s playing Strip Pong?” The condescension in Theo’s voice rings loud and clear from all the way across the patio. It’s like our conversation about him not intervening in my life didn’t even happen. My hand clenches around my drink. I swear, it’s always one step forward and two steps back with the bastard, and it’s getting on my nerves.
“We should go,” Burrows starts, but I shake my head.
“Is there a problem with me playing Strip Pong?” I call back to Theo, interrupting his conversation with Tukani the same way he interrupted mine.
Tukani turns on his heel and steps aside, giving me a perfect view of the tick in Theo’s jaw.
The guy is pissed.
Good.
“You sure you wanna wind up half-naked in front of the team?” he challenges.
“Sounds like a party to me.” I lift the Fireball and Coke to my lips, taking a slow sip as I hold Theo’s dark gaze. “Unless you don’t want me to,” I finish.
I stay quiet but tilt my head, daring him to say yes. To tell me he has a problem with me playing Strip Pong. That he has a problem with me being here in the first place when he promised he’d back off.
Now’s your chance to put your money where your mouth is, Theo, I silently goad.
His muscles are tight, and his biceps are bulging as he stares at me, his arms crossed over his chest. The kitchen lights from behind me cast a glow against his chiseled, stern features. And I’m not the only one who’s curious to hear his response. I swear, everyone in the backyard is waiting with bated breath. Wondering if he’s going to throw everyone out of his house the same way he did after my first party, or if he’ll take a chill pill and let us have some fun. I can feel their curious stares. The way their attention is shifting from Theo to me and back again.
Waiting.
Guessing.
Hoping.
Analyzing.
But I hold my ground, daring him to go back on his word.
After a few seconds, Theo growls, “You’re an adult, right, Blake?”
I lift my chin. “I am.”
“Then, I guess it’s not a problem.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Austin interjects next to the table. He slaps Depp’s shoulder and looks at me through glazed eyes. “Come on, Blake. Let’s play. It’ll be fun.”
Theo glares at the rookie but keeps his feet planted on the cement as Burrows and I head toward the patio table.
The night air is warm against my skin as I do my best to ignore my brother’s best friend a few yards away. Then again, maybe it’s his angry stare causing my skin to heat. Regardless, I’m ready to shed some extra layers to keep from sweating my brains out. It’s not even hot, but I still feel flushed. Naked. Like my protective layers have already been peeled away, and we haven’t even started playing the game yet.
If I was smart, I’d turn around and head inside.
But I’m not smart.
Not when it comes to Theo.
“So, what are the rules?” I ask while ignoring an angry Theo who still hasn’t left the patio. “I’ve only ever played the traditional version of Beer Pong, so…” I rock back on my heels and tuck my thumbs into the back pocket of my jeans.
“Yeah, what are the rules?” Theo chirps as he walks closer to the patio table.
“You never play Pong,” Burrows argues when he sees him.
“Guess I’m feeling like mixing things up. That a problem?” Theo returns indifferently.
Seriously. Could we have any more testosterone flowing through this place?
My nose wrinkles as I answer for Burrows. “It’s no problem.”
Burrows slides his arm around my waist and tugs me against him. “Yeah. No problem, man.”
“All right, the rules are simple,” Depp interjects, oblivious to the pissing match as he finishes filling up the plastic cups with beer. “We cut the players into two separate teams and cycle through both sides. Essentially, you’re playing against one opponent until the person on the opposite team decides to drop out. Last team with a player standing, er, not entirely naked, wins. Any questions?”
“Do I have to put my shirt back on?” Tukani asks. He flexes his pecs one at a time, causing them to dance on his chest as he bounces his eyebrows up and down.
Gwyn, one of the puck bunnies, laughs and hooks her arm through his while Depp answers, “Not unless you want to give the opposite team a leg up.”
“More clothes means more chances to win,” Gwyn clarifies. She rises onto her tiptoes and bites his earlobe. “Or lose, since the sooner we get naked, the sooner we can go upstairs.”