Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Oh no,” I said, smiling. “So I’m the reason half of the TNU football team is going to be hungover this morning?”
“That shit is delicious,” Andrew said. “Rename your channel to the cocktail god.”
“Shucks.”
“Hey, what are you up to tonight?” Andrew asked. “Come by the house and party with us?”
“Bartending. As usual,” I told him.
“Boo. Well, come by on your next night off. The guys want you. One of the sophomores is a big fan of your videos.”
“I’ll drop in sometime,” I said. “Enjoy.”
As Draven and I finally sat down at our red leather booth, tucked near the back of the long diner, I noticed he was giving me a look.
Staring at me, more like.
It was the same look he used to give me all the time when he first got into town—as if he was trying to solve me like a puzzle.
“What?” I protested.
“What what?” Draven teased.
He reached for his hat and gently took it off, placing it on the seat beside him. There was still some sort of glimmer in his eyes.
“What’s with you looking at me like you’re in on some joke that I’m not?”
“It’s not a joke, it’s an observation,” Draven mused, leaning one arm onto the back of the booth, his tattoos on display. “Come by sometime, Maxxy-poo. Us football players just can’t wait to have you around.”
I glared at him. “So Andrew’s a friendly guy. What’s your point?”
“Andrew wants to fuck you.”
I puffed out a laugh. “I’m starting to think you have some sort of distorted perception of reality, Draven.”
“No. You’re just blind to when people want you,” he said, his voice like velvet.
I glanced back over at Andrew, sitting there with Robbie at the bar. Andrew caught my eye, smiling and giving me a little nod before turning back to his food.
“I don’t even know if Andrew is attracted to men. I did hear about some new out-and-proud football player, but… wait. Was that him? I don’t pay attention to TNU social shit anymore.”
“You’re cute when you’re trying to deflect.”
I kicked Draven’s shoe under the table. “And you’re infuriating when you think you can figure out everything about Bestens just because you’re an outsider.”
As we put in our orders, Draven’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the screen, then put it away again. Then it buzzed again, he ignored it again, and when it started to ring for the third time I finally lifted an eyebrow.
“You going to finally pick that thing up?” I asked.
He frowned at the screen. “I’m sorry, Max. It’ll only be a moment.”
He didn’t seem like he wanted to take the call, but he answered anyway, standing up from the booth and facing out toward one of the back windows.
“What is it?” he said.
I drummed my hands on the table while I watched him from behind, staring a little too long at his ass.
“Is that a joke? Not here, as in Bestens—please tell me you’re kidding, Dom. No, because I’m in the middle of something right now. Fuck, you’re not joking.” He let out a long sigh. “The Red Fox Diner. On Laurel Ave. Yeah, the only place called Red Fox Diner in the area, so I don’t think you could mistake it for anything else. Okay.”
He hung up and came back to the table, a stern look on his face.
“Drama much?” I teased.
But he clearly wasn’t in the mood to joke around anymore. “My friend is in Tennessee. And he’s coming here.”
“Oh. Wow. Someone from Montana likes you enough to come visit Bestens, huh?”
Damn.
Clearly not the time for a joke like that, either.
“Dom’s like a brother to me. If he’s coming to talk to me in person, I doubt it’s good news.”
“So when’s he going to arrive in Bestens?”
Draven set his jaw. “Apparently he’s already five minutes away.”
Chapter 16
Draven
Ilove Dominic, but dear God, somebody needed to remind me to wring his fucking neck next time he pulled some shit like this.
One moment I was having a simple breakfast with Max—watching out for him, because he was obviously too naive to care about protecting his own back—and the next, I was thrust into a very uncomfortable position.
My worlds were colliding.
Montana meeting Tennessee, unexpectedly.
Dominic walked into the Red Fox Diner with his signature cold, calculating stare, briskly walking down the center aisle and sliding off his sunglasses. People had often said he looked like a blond version of me—tall, imposing, with cutting eyes.
It was never more obvious than it was right now, seeing his crisp, slate grey business suit among the diner regulars, all of which were wearing flannel, T-shirts, or blue-collar work clothing.
“Drave,” he said as he approached the booth where I sat with Max.
“Dom.”
I got up and gave him a quick hug. “This is Max. Max, this is my friend and my family’s financial advisor, Dominic.”