Out of Bounds (The Summer Games #2)(41)

If I flew to Rio and competed anything other than perfect routines, I’d have to fly back to Texas with a depleted bank account and no endorsement deals to show for it. I’d go right back to my old life—same shitty apartment complex, same overworked mom, same tiny bed that squeaked any time my mother adjusted in her sleep—except this time, I wouldn’t have gymnastics to distract me. No, I’d have a GED and a mountain of regret. I couldn’t do it. I had to win gold; I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t.

“Figured you might want something a little stronger than water,” the bartender said, returning to my table and sliding into the seat across from mine without an invitation. Between us, he dropped a pint of amber-colored beer. I glanced up to meet his eye and smiled my thanks. He nudged the beer an inch closer to me. White foam spilled over the sides and I leaned forward to suck down the first few ounces so it wouldn’t spill over the rim when I picked it up off the table.

The bartender seemed to enjoy the show.

“What’s your name?” I asked, eyeing him over the brim of the glass.

“Colby.”

I smirked. “I’m Brie.”

“Colby and Brie.” He nodded, already gloating. “Cheesy, but it looks like it’s meant to be.”

The rowdy group near the bar interrupted our flirting with loud cheers, reminding me of their presence. “Shouldn’t you be manning the bar?”

He shrugged. “Those guys tip like shit anyway. Besides, this is my uncle’s bar. He can’t really fire me for flirting on the job.” His gaze dragged down my neck and chest, not bothering to hide his attraction.

I laughed and took another small sip of beer. I hadn’t had dinner yet so I made a point to take it slow.

“Don’t like it?” he asked with a laugh.

I shrugged. “I can’t really stand beer to be honest.”

His brow arched. “I could have guessed that. You look kind of uptight.”

I furrowed my brows. “Uptight?”

He pointed to my hair. It was up in a tight bun and even though a few wisps had fallen out, I knew the visual it offered. I looked like a prima ballerina when I styled my hair like this, but Colby didn’t seem to mind.

“I bet we have a bottle of champagne or something in the back,” he said with a sly smile. “Want me to try to find it?”

Before he could get up, a shadow fell over our table, blocking the hazy yellow light from the bar. I knew it was him before I even looked up—not because he had some kind of superpower over me, but because the man had a signature smell, his natural scent and mountain fresh body wash combining in a way that made my body tingle.

Erik.

His gaze hit me, dragged down to the beer I was still clutching in my hand, and then slowly swept over to Colby.

“Get out of the booth.”

Colby reared back, surprised. “Excuse me? This is my bar.”

Your uncle’s bar.

“Do you always serve alcohol to minors in your bar?” Erik asked, pointing to the beer in my hand.

His voice was pure grit and if I had been Colby, I would have gotten the f*ck out of the booth, but he didn’t budge.

Colby shook his head, feigning innocence and looking to me for backup. “Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I shrugged, bored. “I’ll be twenty-one in two months.”

Clearly, Erik was bored too, because he leaned in and gripped Colby’s collar in his fist, yanking him out of the booth.

“What the hell!?” Colby shouted, yanking out of Erik’s hold. “I’ll call the cops, bro. Are you her dad or something?”

I bit back my smile.

Erik practically snarled. “Or something.”

Colby threw up his hands, deciding I wasn’t worth the trouble—or maybe he realized Erik wasn’t a man to challenge. He was taller than Colby. His chest was broader. His arms were leaner, muscled. His eyes, though beautiful, worked well to warn most people off, and his strong jaw finished the job nicely.

I clapped slowly, drawing Erik’s attention back to me as Colby wandered back to the bar, mumbling under his breath. “Good work. You saved the world from a twenty-year-old having a drink and a moment of peace.” I pointed to the door. “You can go now.”

He slid down into the booth as I leaned back. Colby had sat in that same spot a moment before, but Erik filled the space, consuming everything around him like a black hole. I crossed my hands over my chest, steeling myself against his presence.

He reached across the table and gripped my beer, taking a long drag before leveling me with his gaze.

“Quite a day you’ve had,” he mocked.

I looked away, not interested in his teasing, but when he spoke up again, there was no hint of amusement in his tone.

“When I used to have bad days in the gym, I took it out on my coaches as well.”

His honesty shocked me, but I kept my gaze on the TV screen, pretending like I cared what was happening on the baseball field.

“I had a bad temper and a short fuse. No one was harder on me than myself, and I know you’re the exact same way.”

I glanced back at him with an arched brow. “I ate shit today—on skills I can usually do in my sleep.”

He nodded, swallowed another sip of beer, and waited for me to continue. I didn’t, not right away. I let him finish off nearly half my beer as I worked up the courage to talk to him.