Hendrix wore a suit of royal blue, no doubt to accentuate his crushing blue eyes. He’d kept his blond hair disheveled with that just-rolled-out-of-bed look, as if he needed to rebel against the clean lines of his immaculate suit. And that smile? Pure mischief as he walked through the gardens like he was on the prowl.
Savannah tensed slightly when she caught me watching her, and then rolled her eyes. “It’s a curse,” she said. “Being surrounded by hot men constantly. You can’t look anywhere without spotting one.” The girl radiated strength and that I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude.
I instantly liked her.
Teagan laughed, nudging her. “Please, no more sneaking drinks tonight? I’d rather not get an earful from Coach.”
“He’d go after Rick first,” Savannah said, then shrugged. “Or maybe Roman. Either way, he adores you, so your murder accusations are completely off-base.”
“You’re Coach Goodman’s daughter?” I asked.
“The one and only,” she said, extending her hand. “And you must be the infamous Liberty Jones. The mythical unicorn capable of making our broody-ass quarterback smile for a change.”
I raised my brows, my heart fluttering slightly at that declaration. “I suppose I am,” I chuckled as I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” she said, glancing at Teagan as she returned to leaning against the bar. “It’ll be nice to have some fresh, decent blood in our little girl gang, yeah?”
Teagan nodded. “Liberty is the real deal. Nothing fake about her.”
“We can’t stand fake.” Savannah waved an arm at the blondes who were heading toward the bar we gathered around.
The same ones who’d been all over Nixon and Roman and Rick not five seconds ago. Had they been sent to get drinks, or had the boys made an excuse to get away? I hated that I didn’t know for certain, because while Nixon and I had grown so close these past few weeks, we hadn’t had a label discussion. Hell, I was the one who had emphasized that us having sex didn’t mean anything.
Out of fear.
Yes, I’d been a coward. I didn’t want to explore the growing feelings for Nixon because I had no true way of knowing we’d work out in the end. We were from such different worlds and the idea of getting my heart crushed while trying to raise a baby? Not something I’d want to add to my memory book of baby’s first year.
So, in all legally binding terms when it came to us, he was a free agent. Capable of dating, fucking, or pursuing whoever he wanted.
My heart dropped into my stomach at the thought, and it was a battle to keep my spine straight as the girls stopped not in front of the bar, but in front of us.
“You’re still tagging along with Daddy, Savannah? How cute.” The one in the middle—clearly the leader of the vapid gang—said. She wore a glittering white and gold fringe dress that barely cleared her perfect ass, with sparkling heels to match. She didn’t have a flaw on her body—even her hair had defied the soft breeze that had caused mine to frizz over the last hour.
“Ah, Jackie Lynn,” Savannah said, and the name clicked in my head. She was, in fact, a Raptors cheerleader. The head one, if I remembered correctly. “I see you’re still husband-hunting. How long has the search been on…two years? You think you would have settled down by now.”
Jackie Lynn tilted her chin up, her gaze narrowing on Savannah for a second before she dismissed her entirely and turned to look at me. “This one always jokes,” she said, pointing her thumb at Savannah. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.” Her eyes raked my body and paused over my stomach for a few seconds. I resisted the urge to smooth my hand over it protectively.
One of the other blondes whispered something in Jackie Lynn’s ear, then turned to the bartender to order drinks.
“Liberty,” I said, offering her the same appraisal she’d given me.
Recognition clicked behind her eyes, but she pinched her brow together. “Liberty…” She let my name hang there.
“Jones,” I answered.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry I haven’t heard a peep about you,” she said with a sugar-sweet voice I knew all too well.
I bit back a smile but elected to remain quiet.
She popped a hand on her hip, surveying me. “You’re friends with Savannah and Teagan?”
I arched a brow at Teagan, who rolled her eyes. I nodded at Jackie Lynn before taking a sip of my sparkling apple cider.
Jackie Lynn’s cheeks tightened a bit at my lack of responses. “Well,” she said, a smile more fake than the bleach in her hair shaping her lips. “Let’s see it.”
I tilted my head.
“The ring!” she practically squealed as she reached for my left hand. Her smile faded into a pout when she saw my bare ring finger, and I quickly pulled my hand away. “Oh,” she said. “I just assumed with you being pregnant and all, you’d have one hell of a diamond to show off.”
Savannah snorted. “What century are you living in, Jackie Lynn?”
“Or maybe it’s because the father of your child doesn’t find you worth a ring,” she said, ignoring Savannah entirely.
The words stung, but I grinned at her.
She pursed her lips, shifting on those heels, her breaths increasing the longer I remained quiet. A few heartbeats longer, and she stepped into my personal space, lowering her voice. “Nixon has been the ungettable get for as long as I can remember,” she hissed. “And, honey, if he ever does decide to settle down, it won’t be with some no-name like you. He needs a woman who can shine in the spotlight next to him, and you just don’t fit that description. And I think it’s downright despicable that you’re trying to tie him down with a baby.”
Anger sizzled hot through my blood at the implication, but I forced out a laugh.
She startled, taking a step back as I met her gaze. “What’s funny?”
“You are,” I said without hesitation, and I swore the chatter around us died down.
“Excuse me?” she hissed.
I set my apple cider on the bar, smiling at her with a hint of pity. “It’s funny,” I said, “what all you can learn when you remain quiet.” She tilted her head slightly, so I motioned to her. “True colors always present themselves when the person doesn’t get the reaction they’re looking for.” I laid my hand over my chest. “Hence, my silence to your little progression of an unwarranted tantrum only fueled you to spit the venom you so desperately tried to bury beneath sugar and passive aggression.” I stepped into her space now. “It’s sad, really,” I said. “How insecurity presents itself—high pitches in the vocal cords, attacks on physical appearance, social status, etcetera.”
“I’m not insecure!” she squeaked. Her friends reached for her, their eyes wide as they tried to pull her away from the scene she was causing.
“And as for Nixon?” I said, ignoring her denial. “I’m not trying to tie him down with anything, but I sure as hell don’t mind it when he ties me down.” I bit my bottom lip, letting my hunger for Nixon show just a bit.
“Damn!” Savannah laughed. “Ruthless, I love it.”