The Friend Zone (Game On, #2)(19)

“High praise there, Cupcake.” My scowl grows, and he laughs.

“Okay, you look really nice. Hot, even.” Again, he looks me over, this time lingering on my top. “Totally, smokin’ hot.”

A flush of heat rushes over my body, settling between my legs, and I’m the one doing the throat clearing. It doesn’t stop the slow tide of unexpected lust that makes my steps unsteady. What the hell? It’s just Gray. “I like to dress up now and then. Don’t look so shocked.”

“I’m not shocked.” Gray takes hold of my elbow, a light touch, and guides me toward the back of the club. “I’m grateful.”

“Grateful?” I ask blankly. He’s still giving me sidelong glances as if he’s convinced the scenery will change and doesn’t want it to.

Gray just shakes his head and leans in until his lips brush my ear. His warm breath and deep voice caress my skin. “Mac, I’m a healthy heterosexual male. Anytime a girl looks hot, I’m f*cking grateful.”

Lips pursed, I make no further comment. It’s ridiculous how much his admiration pleases me. And disconcerting, as if I’ve taken a shot of hard liquor that’s gone straight to my head. I am still a bit dizzy when we reach the large circular booth that holds Gray’s friends.

They all smile at me with varying degrees of interest, as if they’ve been waiting to get a good look.

“Ivy,” Gray says, giving a nod in my direction by way of introduction. “Diaz, Rolondo, Dex, Marshall, Johnson, Cal, Drew, and Anna.”

Anna, the curvy redhead and the lone girl at the table, has the widest smile. She gives me a little wave. “Hey, Ivy. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Clearly. I’m like the new exhibit at the zoo. “Hey. I’ve heard a lot about you guys too.” I slide into the space left open next to Anna as the guys say hello.

They’re all huge and probably intimidating to anyone not used to being around football players. To me, though, it’s a bit like coming home. My whole life I’ve been around male athletes, strong guys who use their bodies as a musician would an instrument. Oftentimes they behave like overgrown boys, no matter what age they are.

Gray takes the seat opposite me, his muscular forearms resting against the table. For a second we just smile at each other, and happiness floods my veins like pink champagne.

Then Drew leans in. “I’ve been meaning to thank you, Ivy, for letting Gray borrow your car.” His tone is sincere, but there’s a gleam in his light brown eyes.

“I didn’t let Gray drive my car,” I clarify, even though I know I don’t have to. But I’m willing to mess with Gray just a bit. “In truth, it pissed me off. I kind of wanted to kick his ass.”

“She talks a good talk but she loves me,” Gray assures everyone.

“You didn’t hurt the car,” I say, “so I’m feeling more charitable toward you, yes.”

Gray winks at me, and I laugh.

The gleam in Drew’s eyes grows. “Gray would never damage that car. I mean, he looks so good driving it.”

The guys all chuckle. And Gray coughs out, “Asshole.”

Drew ignores this and leans back with a laugh. The guy is ridiculously good-looking in a chiseled, clean-cut way with light brown hair and eyes. Gray and Drew sitting side by side, with their muscled physiques taking up a good portion of the booth, look like a comic book come to life.

They catch me staring and both say, “What?” at the same time.

Smiling, I shake my head. “Nothing. I just had this image of Thor and Captain America having a beer.”

They both color at the same time. Which is kind of cute.

“Ha!” cries Anna at my side. Her cheeks plump with a wide grin. “I had that Captain America thought about Drew too.”

Drew perks up. “You did, huh?”

Gray snorts. “Dude, I’ve just been compared to Thor. I totally win.”

“What the hell does Thor have? A little hammer?” Drew waves a hand as if to say, please.

But Gray smirks. “At least he isn’t hiding behind a wussy shield. Thor is a god. Enough said.”

“A boring god with the personality of a post,” Drew volleys.

“And you’re saying Captain America isn’t boring? Dude. He doesn’t even understand modern culture. He’s like a 1940s Boy Scout.”

Drew and Gray eyeball each other for a second. Then Drew relents with a laugh. “Touché.”

“And Thor reigns victorious in battle!” Gray throws up his arms in a touchdown gesture.

All the guys groan. Someone lobs a balled-up bar napkin at Gray, who neatly bats it away.

“Are they always like this?” I ask the table.

“Always,” Anna mutters, but she’s laughing.

Dex, who is massive and wears a full beard, shrugs. “Sometimes they slap each other’s heads around too.”

“Quiet down there, Bruce Banner.”

Dex rolls his eyes at Gray.

“You disagreeing with that assessment, Cupcake?” I ask, grinning.

Instantly Gray groans loud and long, and his friends start to choke on their shock. And then my mistake hits me. Oh, shit. I ought to know better. Give a bunch of football players a new nickname to play with and they’ll eat it up.