Trouble (Dogwood Lane #3)(19)

I’ve gotta slow my roll.

Taking a step back, I shake my head. “No. It was nice seeing you, but—”

“Come on, Avery,” he singsongs. “I can’t have you walk in here and not introduce you. What kind of a gentleman would I be if I did that?”

I raise a brow. “You’re a gentleman?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Uh, no.”

His blue eyes are bottomless, and he knows it. He uses his long lashes and heavy brows to lure me in.

My gaze is held by his, almost caressed, and I feel it everywhere. The zip of his touch earlier today is still so fresh in my mind that I’m tempted to brush against him just to feel it again.

I watch the edge of his shirt ride up as he stretches, giving me a hint of the muscles lying beneath the light fabric of his shirt. The heat of his gaze puts me into a spot that’s as comfortable as it is not, and in lieu of fanning my face in the middle of Mucker’s patio, I blow out a breath.

I can’t take the bait.

“Are you coming or not?” he asks, lowering his voice. “You know you want to.”

Before I can come up with a response, a polite way of saying no, another man joins us.

“Who do you have here?” he asks before tipping back a beer. A headful of sandy-brown hair flops off his forehead as he moves.

“This is Avery,” Penn says.

There’s a hint of something in his voice that doesn’t go unnoticed. Penn’s friend raises his brows and holds back a grin.

“Avery,” Penn says, oblivious to our catch, “this is Matt Madden. Matt, this is Avery.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, offering a hand.

“Penn’s told me a lot about you,” Matt says, taking my hand and giving it a gentle shake. There’s a smugness to his tone that makes me curious.

I look at Penn out of the corner of my eye. “Is that right?”

“I didn’t say a lot about you. Matt is being a dick.”

“I beg to differ,” Matt says.

“How would that even be possible?” Penn asks me. “You didn’t tell me jack shit about you, even when I asked. So how would I know anything to even say? You didn’t even shake my hand, like you just did his. Just thought I’d point that out. Not that I care.”

I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I did with him when I first met him, to remind him of the ant bites on our legs as we tried to lie on a jacket he had in his truck. I shut it as quickly as I opened it.

“If I could take back the fact that I fell off a ladder and shake your hand instead, I would,” I say.

“Whoa,” Matt interrupts. “Did you say you ‘fell off a ladder’?”

“Sadly,” I admit.

“I think we are destined to be friends,” Matt says.

His smile is easy and open, his posture relaxed. I like him immediately.

“I’d love to be your friend,” I say.

Matt clamps a hand on Penn’s shoulder, releasing a hearty laugh. “Guess she likes me, big guy.”

“She just met you,” Penn says. “She doesn’t know if she likes you yet.”

“Um, I just met you too,” I say. “So who knows? Maybe I like Matt better than you. He has said a number of sentences to me without propositioning me.”

“I can tell you right now that I definitely like you better than him,” Matt cracks.

Penn’s jaw drops. He looks between the two of us like he’s shocked. As we laugh, Penn shoves Matt. Matt winces as he loses his balance and grabs the edge of a nearby table.

“Fuck you,” Matt groans, clutching his side.

“I forgot. Honest,” Penn says.

Matt looks up at me. There’s pain written across his handsome face. “I injured my spleen. Sympathy is appreciated.”

“He fell off a kiddie ladder. One lower than yours, even,” Penn interjects. “Don’t feel sorry for him. He’s just trying to capitalize on you saying you might like him more than me.”

“Penn! He’s in pain.” I make a face at him before turning to Matt. “You poor thing. You fell off a ladder. I did that today, and I know how terrifying it is.” I hold out a hand. “Let me help you.”

“Are we really doing this?” Penn asks, straight-faced.

“Doesn’t look like you are doing anything,” Matt says.

Penn quirks a brow. “I’m warning you . . .”

“You are too easy to rile up, Etling,” Matt says.

“And you are too easy to injure. Remember that,” Penn tells him.

I roll my eyes as I realize my hand is still dangling in the air. Matt takes it just to annoy Penn. I help him stand and dust off his shirt.

“There you go. You feel okay?” I ask.

It’s hard to keep a straight face when Penn is this close and my interest in Matt is clearly bothering him. It’s even harder when Matt plays along.

“I think so,” Matt says, making a show of holding his side. “It’s hard to get anyone to take me seriously around here.”

“I’ll take you seriously.” I toss him a wink.

Penn moves so he’s standing closer to me. It’s like he knows his testosterone permeates the air and makes my head foggy. I turn to look at him in time to see a waitress sidling up to him. She’s petite with long blonde hair and a pretty smile.