Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(25)

“Imagine that.” Ramsey chuckled.

“If only it was as easy as getting laid.” I mock-sighed, but Ramsey’s expression remained thoughtful as he rubbed his thumb idly around the rim of his glass.

“I’m starting to come around to the whole bi-fi thing. Is there a way to tune it or home in on the mother signal or something? You’ve got guys simping for you left and right.” He glanced pointedly at the bartender.

“Requires a lot of practice and study. Dedication. Perseverance.” He rolled his eyes at my confessional tone, and I laughed. “It’s called eye contact, Ramsey. Jesus. Take the same shit you’d do with a woman and make it…a little less subtle.”

“I’m not about to walk around eye-fucking every hot guy I see.”

I stared at him, wondering what he considered hot. Hell, for all I knew, Ramsey preferred twinky blonds with a penchant for glittery eyeshadow, or slender intellectual types who drank single-malt scotch. Sweet, nerdy bookstore owners or baristas. None of which I was ever gonna be. “You just have to pay attention,” I told him. “If you spot someone you like, see if you can make eye contact. Then gauge the interest from there. A straight guy will usually give a quick acknowledgment—up-nod, grin, whatever—then look away. Someone interested is gonna linger.” I picked up my drink and slid off my stool.

“Wait.” His brows drew together. “You heading out already?”

“No. I’m about to give you a demonstration. Don’t move.”

“Jesus, this ought to be good.”

“I’m very good,” I promised.

I stepped a few paces away from the bar, put my game face on, and then paced back to the empty stool and slid atop it. I set my drink on the bar top as I gave Ramsey a sidelong, lingering look before focusing on the TV screens.

Ramsey threw his head back and laughed. “That’s it? That’s the shit that requires practice, study, dedication, and perseverance? You looked like you were casing me to see if you could take me in an alley later.” I arched a brow, and he rolled his eyes. “I meant ‘take me’ as in murder me, you pervert.”

“I’ve considered it before.” Both murdering him and taking him. The latter was far more enticing. Damn, now I had back-alley shenanigans with Ramsey on the brain. Talking to him was counterproductive sometimes.

“Likewise.”

I shook my head, moving my focus back to the TV screen. “That’s part 1: tossing the anchor.” Time to invoke part 2. Before he could come up with some smart-ass reply, I turned my head and looked him over again, really looked him over, the way I rarely allowed myself to. Letting my gaze roam slowly from the crown of his head, I paused on that stern mouth of his I’d fantasized about, open and gasping in pleasure, or wrapped around my cock, or whispering dirty shit as he fucked me. I dropped lower, just for a beat, to his lap, where his jeans stretched tight over his quads, to the mouthwatering bulge that had tempted me way too many times while wrapped in a towel, then moved back to the piercing icy blue of his eyes. I held eye contact, unleashing all the desire and damn want I’d kept at bay for years, feeling it speed up my pulse as I leaned closer and dropped my voice so he had to lean in too. “Wanna get the hell out of here so I can fuck you inside out?”

His lips parted, pupils flaring wide and dark, and for just a second I could swear I saw something close to interest, genuine interest, that scorched through me like a lightning bolt.

Then he set his jaw and huffed out a laugh as he leaned back. “That actually works?”

“Yep. Also…” I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened Grindr. “There’s a cheat code.”

Ramsey stared as the screen populated with available guys nearby. “Damn, they’re all over the place.” He ticked his head toward the executives. “So were you already talking to that guy over there?”

“On the app?” I laughed. “No. I’ve got my profile hidden, but I found his, yeah.” I clicked and pulled it up. “You know, you’re awfully interested for someone who said they weren’t interested.”

“I’m just curious how it usually goes down.”

“Houston is your best friend. You haven’t picked up on it yet?”

“You know how low-key he is about everything. I never knew when he was hooking up or with whom. He’d just disappear.”

That sounded about right. I extended my palm. “Give me your phone.”

His hand flew to his pocket protectively. “Fuck no.”

“You downloaded apps.” My smile grew as he scowled. “Holy shit, do you already have a profile up and you’re just playing dumb?” I scanned my screen again and clicked on a random profile before blinking my eyes wide at Ramsey in faux shock. “Dirty4Daddy69, is that you?” I scrolled down the listing and read aloud. “‘Foot fetishist who will let you spank me all day and top me all night.’ Mmm, you kinky fucker. Who knew?” And even though there was no way that was Ramsey, just wondering whether or not he was a little kinky got me hot.

He burst into a laugh. “No. Goddammit, I don’t have any apps, and I don’t want you to put any on my phone. I’m just asking questions.”

“Offer still stands. Just saying.”

“Nope.” He grabbed his drink and stood, touching his brow in a mock salute. “I’m heading home. Good luck with your hookup.”