The Slot (Rochester Riot #1)(28)
“So how’ve you been, El? Haven’t seen you around much lately,” Ryder said, taking a swig. El watched the movements of his throat as he swallowed. Tension. It practically rifled through his strong body.
“No, you haven’t,” she answered matter-of-factly, sparing him a sidelong glance. Despite her animosity toward him, he still cut an impressive profile, his brown hair full and glossy, his pretty-boy face flattered by the ambient lighting. He’d be good-looking in any lighting, for that matter. But now… well, she no longer found him physically attractive in any way. His personality had chased away any yearning she’d ever felt for this man. “I hear you’ve been busy.”
Ryder spun his beer bottle like a top by the neck, his university grad ring glinting on his slender hand as he did so. “I stay out of trouble.”
“Hmm,” she acknowledged with a nod. “That’s wise. Too bad you don’t stay out of other people’s business.”
He threw her a suspicious gaze and pursed his full lips into a man-pout. “Something on your mind, Eloise?”
She worked her jaw, deciding on the most appropriate response. “Only that I’ll thank you for keeping your private opinions exactly that – private.”
Ryder shrugged. Dismissing what he’d done. Dismissing her. “I call them like I see them.”
“Well, you should make a date with your optometrist,” she said. “Because you’re not seeing very clearly. Just because I wasn’t interested in sleeping with you doesn’t make me an ice-queen, or a tease, or any other juvenile noun you have stored in your limited vocabulary.”
“You seemed impressed with my vocabulary when we were arguing,” he rushed in a defensive flow of verbal sparring. “Are all our conversations going to be restricted to knock down drag outs? Because if they are, I’d rather not waste the energy.”
Eloise opened her mouth to reply and felt a wash of relief as she heard a familiar voice. Saved by the bell. Tinkerbell.
“Hey, there you are,” Kylie Rose’s bubbly tones carried across the room. She flew in to roost beside Eloise, wearing tight red overdyed jeans and a rose motif print blouse topped with a sparkly red scarf. “Hi, Ryder,” she said with a wave, then turned and threw Eloise a secret, cross-eyed look.
“Hi, Kylie. Great to see you outside of work. Buy you a drink?” Ryder said brightly, as though his dialogue with Eloise had never happened.
“Sure,” she said and took the stool next to him. “I’ll have a beer, please.”
As Ryder signaled for two more beers, Kylie turned to Eloise. “What a cool place,” she commented, glancing around the décor. “Who did you say owns it?”
Eloise realized she hadn’t met the man or even heard his full name. “His name’s Trey, that’s all I know. A friend of Cole’s.”
“Speaking of Cole, where is Mr. Star Centerman? Hot as hell. Cutie patootie. Tall drink of water…”
“Enough already!” Eloise shrieked, even though the words filled her body with unfulfilled desire. Desire she hoped to act upon tonight. She’d waited long enough.
Cole returned to the bar just as the words left Kylie’s lips. “El,” he said, “meet Shredder, an old buddy from junior days and my temporary roommate. Shred, this is Eloise.”
Eloise knew that unmarried players were often boarded together until they decided on permanent residences, but Cole hadn’t mentioned that he and Shredder were roommates until now. And of course, she hadn’t been to his place. Yet.
“Pleased to meet you, Shredder,” Eloise said. He stood just behind Cole, almost as tall and wearing an expensive Lacoste dress shirt that flattered his broad shoulders. The muted lighting reflected a shine off his shaved-bald head. Eloise never particularly cared for that look, but on Sheldon, it seemed to fit.
“Likewise,” he said. His brown eyes twinkled in greeting and as he stepped closer, Eloise notice they were graced with the longest, most luscious eyelashes she had ever seen on a man. He reached out his large hand at the same moment Ryder and Kylie’s drinks were being served, knocking one of the bottles off the bar and straight into Kylie’s lap.
“Oh!” Kylie squealed, her quick reflexes snatching up the bottle but unable to prevent the flood of foam from spurting out.
“Oh, Jeez, I’m sorry!” Shredder said, taking the bottle from her and setting it back on the bar. “I’ve made a girl look as if she pissed herself. I’m usually not so clumsy, miss. What can I do to make it up to you?”
Spud quickly produced a stack of bar towels, removing the spilled bottle and replacing it with a fresh one. “On the house,” he said.
“Great hands,” Ryder said sarcastically. “What’d you say your save percentage was, Shred?” The small crowd of players that had gathered around the action started to laugh.
“I’ll say great hands,” Cole interjected. “Did you see that save? Kylie, we need to sign you to a three-year deal!”
Luckily, the beer only made a few splashes on her jeans, albeit in the vicinity of her crotch and Kylie laughed along with the group. Eloise knew how laid back her assistant and friend could be. It would take a lot more than an ounce of spilled beer to rile her. “No, thanks, I think I’m safer behind a desk, away from you ham-handed clods.”