Jock Row (Jock Hard #1)(4)

The guy opens his mouth. “Do you not realize you’re a fucking buzzkill? What the hell are you wearing?”

His tone is no longer friendly, no longer flirty. He’s no longer interested in being a team player; I’ve unintentionally pissed him off by stealing his thunder.

Tessa, bless her kind heart, breaks through the tension with a lighthearted laugh, giving Benny boy a few flirtatious pats on the cheek. Diverts his attention.

“You want my number?” She sounds positively giddy. “Why didn’t you just say so, silly?” She plucks the phone out of his hands, tapping her digits into the contacts as he shoots another distrustful glance in my direction.

Looks down his nose at me.

I clutch my cup tighter; it wasn’t my intention to offend or piss anyone off. All I want to do is have a good time and laugh a little after being sick for so long—is that a crime?

He’s certainly staring at me like it is.

“You know what you could do, Stacey?” Derek intentionally butchers my name; I can see in his steely gaze that he’s trying to belittle me, the dickhead. “Run along and get yourself another beer.” He’s on his tiptoes, pretending to stare down into my red cup. “Looks like yours is half empty.”

Ben nods, drinking from his cup. “We’d hate for our guests to be thirsty, especially the ones who need booze the most.”

“You’re not trying to get rid of me, are you?” My laugh is nervous.

“Us?” He manages to look affronted. “No, babe, I live here. It’s my job to make sure everyone is having a good time, and you definitely don’t seem like a good time. Ha. Ha.”

I catch his dig. Try not to let it sting.

“I’m good, but thank you for the offer.” I swirl the contents of my cup, peering into it with one eye closed. “Besides, this isn’t beer. It’s water with a little lemon and it’s still pretty cold.”

“Water?”

I scrunch up my nose. “Yeah, I’m not really much of a drinker, and I’ve been sick, so is it really a smart idea to get drunk?” My chin goes up a notch. “I don’t think so.”

Derek’s face contorts. “Where’d you find water around here?”

“Uh, the kitchen?”

“Where in the kitchen?”

Is this a trick question? “Uh…the fridge?”

His eyes narrow. “We keep the fridge locked during parties.”

My brows rise into my hairline. “You do?”

“Yeah. So no one takes shit.” Like you just did. “Did you miss the big sign that says OFF LIMITS?”

My cheeks are on fire. No way is he accusing me of stealing from the house; it’s just a bottle of water, from a fridge that was open. Sure, it had a lock on it, and sure, there might have been a sign, but the fridge was open nonetheless.

Crap.

“I’m sorry,” I say sincerely. “I didn’t realize it was supposed to be locked. It opened right up.” All I had to do was fiddle with the handle a few seconds, and presto—all the drinks for me!

He glances down his nose at me for the second time tonight, silently judging me. “Maybe instead of sucking down that stolen water, you should have a beer—or five, since—”

“You seem so uptight,” Ben finishes.

“Thanks, I’m good,” I insist, pulling at my sweater, peeling it away from my scorching skin, needing room to breathe. The room seems to be getting hotter by the second—or it it just me? Normally, guys like this wouldn’t bother me—I can handle a little unease like a champ—but coupled with how warm I am, and the heat these guys are throwing off…

I’ll admit to being more than a little uncomfortable, and not just from the sweater.

Cameron pipes up then, unwittingly rescuing me, resting her hand on his meaty bicep, displayed beneath a black, short sleeve shirt. Changes the topic. “Before when you were getting water, Derek was telling us before how the baseball team won the College World Series last year. That’s the World Series of Baseball, but for college.”

My brows go up, holding back a look of disbelief. “Yes, I know what the CWS is, Cameron, and Iowa didn’t win it.”

“Yes they did!” She laughs. “Derek threw the winning pitch—he’s seriously amazing. Scarlett, you should hear the story.” She has her entire arm wrapped around his, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “Tell her the story Derek.”

I look at Ben. Glance at Derek. Back at these two na?ve girls, and shake my head, dismayed. Literally can no longer handle their amount of bullshit.

“You realize these two are…teasing you, right?” The red cup hits my lips and I take a swig, readjusting the jacket and scarf I’ve been holding in my other hand. “USC won the College World Series last year—they win it almost every year.” The water tastes warm now, tepid at best, as it flows down my throat.

“How the hell would you know that, Miss Know-It-All?” Ben, challenges me.

Miss Know-It-All? Wow. I don’t think anyone has ever called me that a day in my life.

“My dad. He’s not a huge fan of major league baseball, but he loves watching college ball—loves it.” I tap my chin with a forefinger. “I remember last summer, he had the damn finals on for an entire week, on every TV in the house. We all had to watch that dumb game—no offense. The College World series is in June, right? I think I’m remembering that right…”