Rush: The Season (Austin Arrows Book 1)(24)

Of course, I’m also willing to take the chance if I can get her naked a few times because … f*ck … the woman makes my dick want to do a celebratory dance, and she doesn’t even realize she does it, either.

And there it is… I’m instantly fantasizing about Ellie covered in chocolate while I lick it off her. Slowly.

Once more, I find myself staring at her boobs when Spencer calls my name.

Reluctantly, I slide my gaze to my friend. “What?”

“She’s agreed to do it.”

I cock an eyebrow, momentarily imagining Ellie naked and covered in chocolate.

“She’s gonna be your pretend girlfriend.”

Right. Pretend girlfriend—which means no chocolate.

And no sex.

And no boobs.

Damn.

My loss.

“Under one condition,” Ellie says, coming to stand directly in front of me, the icy flecks in her eyes sparkling.

“What’s that?” I notice my voice is a little deeper than usual. Did she notice?

“You have to dance on my bar. On a Saturday night.” An evil smile follows her words.

Noelle squeals, obviously on board with that idea, too.

I jerk my attention back to Spencer, finding my best friend grinning and shrugging as though he didn’t have any part in this. I glance back at Ellie. “What exactly do you mean by dance?”

Ellie’s grin is slow and wicked, and I wonder just how dirty this sweet girl actually is when no one is looking.

“I mean, you hop up on my bar”—she pats the hard wooden top to clarify—“and strut your stuff.”

I’ve seen women dance on this bar, strutting their stuff, as Ellie refers to it. From what I understand, it’s often on a dare, sometimes to put them on the spot for their birthday. Hell, I’ve even seen some guys do it. I’ve always assumed they were drunk and not usually that stupid.

But me…

I shake my head. “Ain’t happenin’,” I say, mocking her drawl. That slow Texas twang is a hell of a lot easier to do than my Boston accent, though that doesn’t stop Ellie from trying from time to time. She butchers it, by the way. And that makes it all the more fun to f*ck with her.

Ellie’s grin widens. “Then I won’t be your girlfriend.”

“Seriously,” Spencer says with a huff. “It’s just one night. How bad could it be?”

How bad could it be?

I’m not sure I want to know.





Ellie

I sneak in the house a little after three. I’m not really sure why I’m sneaking. After all, I’m a grown woman, I’ve been working all night, no one is waiting up for me, so technically there is no need to tiptoe around like I’m going to get caught. But that is exactly how I feel.

Because I know Bianca will be asleep since it’s a school night—or morning, whichever—I tread lightly through the house, turning off the lights before heading for the stairs.

Since we live less than four minutes from the bar, I’ve already been home three times tonight to check on her. One of those times we ate dinner together. It’s the agreement that we came to when Bianca insisted shortly after her twelfth birthday that she no longer needed a babysitter to watch her while I work. So, every night, I come home at random times to check in. Not once have I caught Bianca doing anything she shouldn’t be, so I consider myself lucky. The pink hair notwithstanding.

Poking my head in Bianca’s room, I see that my kid is sprawled across her bed, arms akimbo as she snores softly. I can’t help but smile.

“Girl, you’re a mess,” I whisper as I step into the room and pull the blanket up over her.

Bianca rolls over, clutching the blanket. “Love you, Mommy.”

“Love you too, kiddo,” I mumble back, knowing Bianca is still out cold.

After closing the lid on Bianca’s laptop to eliminate the soft glow in the room, I step out into the hall, close the door, and traipse back downstairs.

God, I’m tired.

Once in my bedroom, I fish my cell phone out of my back pocket, then drop onto my bed and pull my boots off my feet, massaging my achy toes as I do.

It’s been a good night. Long but good. Busy, something I’m familiar with when all of the major league sports are underway. With baseball season ending, football and hockey season starting, basketball season coming up, the bar is noticeably busier. My feet will be the first to tell you.

My gaze slides to the bathroom. I really need to shower because I smell like chicken wings and beer, but I want nothing more than to lie back on my bed and close my eyes. Sleep until it’s time to get up and make sure Bianca is getting ready for school.

The notification light on my cell phone flashes, catching my attention.

Grabbing my phone, I fall back onto the bed, thumbing the password as I do. I pull up the text app to find I have one message from…

“Oh, Lord.”

Pressing his name on the screen, I quickly skim the text I received nearly three hours ago.

Kingston: Want to meet up tomorrow to discuss this whole relationship thing?

I laugh. Relationship? Really?

I start to respond but then pause. He could be asleep by now. I know he sticks to a very rigid schedule, and since training camp has officially ended and he’s setting his routine for the rest of the season, he’s probably out already.