Rookie Move (Playing for Keeps #1)(3)

“I mean the password.”

“The—”

Ty broke into a laugh and socked me hard on the shoulder. “I’m fucking with you. No password. I mean, did he tell you there’s a shit ton of food in the kitchen? Full bar inside. All that shit. Bedrooms are open if you need them”—he waggled his brows—“and if a door’s locked, it’s locked for a reason. Don’t mess with it. Other than that, have fun, man. Go find some trouble.”

As soon as Ty swaggered off, I meandered through the crowd, still more or less invisible. I scoped out the living area for the brunette. She wasn’t by the doors anymore, but I thought I caught a glimpse of her head near the stairs. I made my way in that direction, trying to figure out an opening line.

But when I got to the stairs, she wasn’t there either. Houston stood surrounded by his teammates and, not wanting to be a clinger attached to his elbow, I decided I’d take Ty’s advice and see if I could find some trouble. Or at least do something besides standing around by myself.

I walked down one hallway and found a den, a library, a bathroom, two bedrooms, and a locked door someone hollered at me through when I jiggled the handle.

Retracing my steps, I went down the other hallway and found much the same until I got near the end and discovered a door offset in a small alcove, slightly different than the other ones I’d passed. I listened at the door for signs of anyone getting busy before reaching out and twisting the knob.

“Halt!”

At the stern command, I snatched my hand back from the doorknob and craned a look over my shoulder. Did Ty have in-house security? That wouldn’t surprise me.

But it wasn’t a security guard.

I recognized him instantly. It was impossible not to, considering how often I saw him on the TV screen. Warner Ramsey was the Rush’s quarterback, and an undeniably great one. Also, my brother’s best friend. They’d connected during training camp, I gathered, from how often Houston talked about him. So often, in fact, that I’d wondered whether they had something going on. Subsequent stories negated that idea, though. But seeing him in person for the first time got me curious all over again. Because another undeniable thing about him was that he was even hotter in person. Tall, leanly built, with a stubbled square jaw, dark hair, and the kind of blue eyes that could pierce you even from the far end of a hallway. Which they were definitely doing now.

“Bathrooms are the other way,” he said as he approached, a Solo cup in one hand and a loose, half-smile on his lips.

My pulse thrummed against the sides of my neck. “I know. I just passed it. I’m not looking for the bathroom.”

“I know you.” Ramsey’s gaze turned appraising, heat moving through me as his eyes tracked over me. “You’re Garrett. The baby brother.”

The “baby” part rankled and, as if he could tell, Ramsey’s eyes took on a mischievous twinkle.

“You’re Warner Ramsey, the guy with two last names,” I fired back, cocking a brow. I’d only ever heard Houston refer to him as Rams or Ramsey, though.

Ramsey’s lips split into a musing grin. “My parents couldn’t decide on a first name, so they stuck my mom’s maiden name on the front and called it done.” He ticked his chin toward the door. “So if you’re not looking for the bathroom, you’re snooping? That a habit of yours?”

Damn, he was as bad as my brother, except his teasing had a different effect on me. A bolt of awareness shot through my blood and sizzled through my gut as I met the arctic blue of his eyes. The rare sensation put me on edge as much as it intrigued me. Dragging my gaze away, I set my jaw and shrugged. “Ty said I could look around, so that’s what I’m doing.” I gestured expansively. “Envisioning my future.”

“Ambitious of you.” Ramsey rested his shoulder against the doorway, so close I could feel his body heat and catch a whiff of his laundry detergent mixed with a tinge of peppermint. He didn’t seem to notice the closeness but, once again, it moved through my core like a current, unsettling me. “All right, then, Snoopy, let’s see what’s behind door number”—he glanced around pointedly—“five hundred and three?”

“Five hundred and five, I think.” I ignored the “Snoopy,” not wanting to give him any more leverage. “You forgot that linen closet back there.”

“Ahh, my bad.”

“This one’s locked, anyway.”

“Is it?” That enigmatic smile ghosted over Ramsey’s lips once more. He reached a hand to the top of the doorframe and produced a key, which he handed me. “Go ahead.”

“Ty said not to go into any locked rooms.”

“Ty told you not to go into any locked rooms,” Ramsey countered. “He won’t care if I show you.”

“Show me…?”

Ramsey shrugged lazily. “I dunno. Guess you’re gonna have to unlock the door.”

Turning the key over in my hand, I chuckled. “Now it’s all built up. It’s gonna be disappointing, isn’t it?” A laundry room? Or else, maybe I was about to walk in on some Eyes Wide Shut-style orgy that would blow my mind.

He tilted his head, his smile both infectious and a little annoying, like he saw me as an amusing kid brother. “I doubt that. Open it and see.”