Play with Me (With Me in Seattle, #3)(72)

But there’s no way in hell that I’m going up there. I just pray to God no one needs to be carried out to the van because these guys are big, and there’s no way that Sam and I can carry them.

They’ll have to sleep on the casino floor.

“You’re a bad f*cking loser!” I twirl at the sound of our group, and sure enough, here they all come, tripping over each other, laughing, drunk as shit.

“I am not a bad loser,” Nate slurs. “But you took ten thousand f*cking dollars. Do you know what I can do for your sister with that kind of money?”

“Yeah, probably buy her another pair of shoes she doesn’t need,” Matt responds happily, completely sober.

“Why are you sober?” I ask him.

“Because he’s a *,” Will explains, earning him a punch to the arm. “Watch it! That’s my throwing arm, asshat.”

“Charming,” I murmur and look over at Sam. “Did we act like this?”

“Yes,” Matt responds with a grin. “Except these guys aren’t talking about sex.”

“Yet,” Isaac adds with a happy grin, then frowns deeply. “Except I don’t get to have sex for another month. Damn babies.”

“Dude, that’s your kid.”

“Yeah, he’s great.” Isaac grins goofily and I start to herd them toward the door like I’m herding cattle.

“Come on, guys, let’s go home to the ladies.”

“What lady,” Caleb asks. “Ain’t got no lady.”

“I’ll be your lady, handsome,” Sam grins at him sassily and Caleb smiles wide and puts his arm around her waist, leaning on her.

“Now, that’s a nice offer,” he murmurs.

“Get your ugly hands off my sister, dude,” Luke’s voice is hard and not quite as slurred as the others.

“Oh yeah. You’re family,” Caleb pouts and hugs Sam before setting her aside. “Why do all the hot women in the world have to be taken?”

Will saunters over to me with a loose, happy grin on his handsome face. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Let’s go home and get naked.”

“Holy shit, you’re Will Montgomery!” We all turn at the woman’s voice to find a tall, slender, long-haired blonde smiling widely. She’s all tan, with too much makeup and not enough clothes.

“That I am,” Will slurs as he walks to her and very deliberately looks her up and down, then smiles back at her. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

He f*cking called her sweetheart!

“Amanda,” Barbie responds and holds her hand out for a shake. I look over at the brothers, all of whom are shifting uncomfortably. “Can I give you a hug?”

“Hey, I always welcome hugs.” He opens his arms wide and she steps up to him, presses her perky little body against him and hugs him around the neck.

“Seriously?” I ask the room at large.

“Can I give you my number?” Amanda asks as she pulls out of his arms.

“Fuck, no, you can’t.” I stomp over to my way-too-drunk boyfriend and slip my arm around his waist. He smiles down at me happily.

“Hey, babe. This is Amanda.”

“Fantastic,” I sneer.

“Amanda, this is Megan, my beautiful girlfriend.”

Amanda blinks at me, then up at Will. “Uh, sorry.”

“Always happy to meet the fans,” Will slurs and waves goodbye to her as I turn him toward the door.

“Fucking moron,” Caleb mutters.

When we get outside, Sam has pulled the van up, and all the guys climb in, Will last.

“I’m an idiot when I’m drunk,” Will slurs, serious now. “You know I wouldn’t have taken her number, right?”

“Right,” I sigh and motion for him to get in the car.

“’Cause I love you, babe.”

“I know. Get in the car so we can take everyone home.”

This ride home is amazingly more calm that the one last week. Most of the guys pass out cold, snoring away. Matt sits quietly behind me and to my left, typing on his phone. At each stop, the girls come out to gather their men, and when we get to Caleb’s, Matt helps him inside, then takes his own car from Caleb’s home.

Sam drops us off last.

“See you at the wedding on Saturday.” I smile at her and help Will inside, get him up the stairs, stripped down, and in bed.

“I need to get you something for that headache you’re sure to have tomorrow.”

He pulls me down with him into the bed and loops a heavy arm around my waist. “You’re so pretty.”

I smile and cup his face in my palm. “So are you.”

“I wasn’t really flirting with that girl, Meg.” His eyes are droopy, falling shut, but then he fights then open again.

“Are you worried that I’m mad about that?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, his breath smelling of horrible cigars and beer.

“I’m not.” I sigh back. Amazingly, I’m not. Even if I hadn’t been there I trust that he would have told her no.

“M’kay.” And he’s asleep.

I slide out from under him and take a shower, dry my hair, and pull on one of the jerseys that I’ve come to claim as mine when I’m here. I pull on his underwear and wander downstairs, leaving the lights off.