Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(12)

Ramsey’s brows shot up. “Did she really?”

“Would it be that surprising?” I tucked my dick away and zipped up. “I’m a great catch and an excellent lay. I would definitely ask for my number.”

“You’re an egotistical little shit is what you are. So did you give it to her?”

“Nah.” I shrugged. “I’m in the mood for Vitamin D tonight.”

Ramsey snorted, waving me off and, realizing it was kind of awkward for me to still be standing there while he finished, I quickly washed my hands and bailed. I was proud of myself. I didn’t even sneak a peek at Ramsey’s junk, though the temptation was there. But I had my creeper limits, and urinal sneak-peeks were it.

Back at the table, someone bought a fresh round of drinks. Cross, the Rush’s new tight end, led a raucous toast, and then someone broke into a legit sea shanty. Soon enough the whole bar joined in. After that, we hit the pool tables again, then the darts.

An hour later, my vision had gone a little swimmy, my limbs noodly, and I was pretty sure I was rocking a permasmile. Life was fucking good.

I was minding my own business, calling like a jerk as Cross busted his ass stumbling toward the bathroom, when Ramsey approached.

He’d looked good in crappy fluorescent bathroom lighting, but in the warm glow of the pub’s overhead pendants, and with what was probably half a keg under my belt, he looked like the fucking answer to the meaning of life.

I forced myself to squint so I wouldn’t accidentally give him googly eyes, but that made my forehead hurt, so I decided fuck it. I’d risk the googly eyes.

“I don’t take requests,” I told him as suavely as I could manage.

“‘Pity,’ said no one.”

“But what would you request if you could?”

“For you to never whistle, sing, or hum a tune again. Ever.”

“Damn.” I put a hand over my heart. “Harsh.”

He chuckled as he slid onto the seat next to me, and I had to physically bite back the instinct to tell him he smelled good.

I shot a look sideways as he smirked and muttered, “Thanks.”

Wait, did I actually say it aloud?

“Yes, you said that aloud,” he answered, confirming that somehow my inner monologue had turned inside out. Crap. How do I make it go back inside?

“You could start by shutting your mouth. Usually works for me.”

This must be payback for laughing at Cross, I decided.

“Are you thinking of heading home soon?” Ramsey asked.

“Why do I feel like that’s more of a suggestion than a question?”

“Because it is.”

“Last I checked, I’m an adult, fully capable of making my own decisions, including when I depart this fine drinking establishment.”

“Oh yeah, I’m well aware.”

“That last beer might not have been one of the better decisions,” I admitted.

“What about the one in your hand now?”

I looked down at the table to discover my hand was, in fact, curled around the handle of a frosty mug full of delicious beer. Excellent. “Hmm,” I hedged.

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“Fuck no.”

He nodded. “Good.”

He might have said some other words, but I’d gotten stuck on his angular jaw and sexy mouth. His whole face, really. “What happened to you?”

“Huh?” His brows bunched together in confusion.

“I just can’t figure out how one human can contain so much genetic lottery winnings. It seems like even nature would say, ‘That’s not fair. Let’s give him a weird eye or ears that stick out.’ Something. Some flaw.”

Ramsey cocked his head, as if still not quite understanding.

Jesus, was the guy dense? I stared at him and spoke slowly. “You’re hot. Ridiculously hot, is what I’m saying. And, ugh, it’s sooooo too bad that only one portion of the human population gets a shot at you. You have no idea…”

Ramsey busted out in a laugh. “That’s it. I’m cutting you off, Garrett.”

“No, I’m just saying.” I pulled my beer out of reach as he grabbed for it. “I figure since I already accidentally told you you smelled good, the rest might as well come out. It’s true. I do think you’re hot. There’s also a seventy-one percent chance I won’t remember saying any of this tomorrow, so it’s all good.”

“Seventy-one? That’s oddly specific.” He reached for my beer again. “How about I drive you back to Houston’s.”

“Ohhh, noooooo.” I recoiled in horror. Fuck, I’d kinda forgotten I was staying with him until I found a place of my own. “I’m not going back to Houston’s. That’ll just give him ammo to mess with me or say I’m not taking this seriously, which I am.” Ramsey arched a brow as if doubting the veracity of my assertion, which was fair, considering beer sloshed from my mug as I said it. Ramsey snatched the drink from me and set it down as I frowned petulantly. “I’m just gonna find someone to go home with.”

“Oh yeah?” Ramsey plunked an elbow on the table, seeming interested. “You have any prospects?”

I ticked my chin toward the corner, where the table of hot guys had been earlier. “Those sexy dudes.”