He walks away, and the rest of the people in the group haven’t noticed that Bryce is talking to me, and I should step away from him and create some distance.
I don’t.
Stepping close to me, Bryce lowers his voice so only I can hear. “You haven’t answered my calls. Why?”
“You know why.” I have to look away.
He sighs. “Please, Katti. Just talk to me.”
“It hurts too much.”
“You know that it doesn’t have to.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t know that.” Now I do walk away, putting my bag down at one of the tables and accepting the shoes my dad brings when he comes back. He takes care of setting us up on the game, even if there are only half the frames left. “We can come back,” my dad says. We don’t.
But the next game, I’m ready for. “Hold that thought,” I say to everyone. “I’m going to get a drink, but when I get back and we have a fresh start, I’m going to kick some ass.”
My dad laughs. “That’s my girl.”
“I need a refill,” Bryce says. “I’ll join you.”
It’s an innocent enough reason to walk with me over to the bar, but I know his motives are anything but innocent. Mine are pure. There’s no way that I can get through the rest of this night without a drink. Maybe two. I can’t just be around him normally, watching him laugh and joke with his friends. Act like this isn’t affecting him at all.
“Are you going to avoid talking to me all night?” he asks, leaning against the bar as I wait to order.
“If I have to.” I order a fruity drink with vodka and consciously make an effort not to look at him.
“I want to have a conversation with you about this,” he says. “I want to talk about it because I’m not ready to give up.”
“Please, Bryce,” I say, grabbing my drink. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” he mutters as I walk away. But he gets his own drink and follows me back to the lanes.
“All right,” I say. “Let’s do this.”
Bryce sprawls on one of the chairs with his drink, that open and friendly demeanor back in full force. He’s a very good actor. “Are you aiming to win?”
“Of course.”
He levels a stare at me. “You’re on.”
“You think you can beat me?” I raise an eyebrow.
My dad claps Bryce on the shoulder. “You might not know what you’re getting yourself into there. She’s very good.”
Bryce smiles. “Oh, I think I know exactly what I’m getting myself into.” Shortly afterward, my phone pings in my pocket.
I pull it out, surprised when it’s a notification from Hearts First. But it’s not a new message—it’s our same message thread with a new conversation started.
You look sexy as fuck right now.
I both love and hate that that statement makes me blush. He gets under my skin so easily.
I’m wearing jeans and a button-down.
So? Those jeans show off your ass in a way that’s very tempting. And if you haven’t noticed the way that shirt clings to your tits, that’s not my fault. I’m going to enjoy staring at them anyway.
It’s my turn to bowl, and I can feel Bryce’s eyes on me as I go up and take the shot, but I’m mixed up enough that I miss completely. Gutter ball. When I turn back his eyes are full of laughter. I pick up my ball again with steely resolve, and this time the ball goes exactly where I aim it. Strike.
I pull out my phone and type out a message to him.
Why are you doing this?
Doing what?
THIS.
You’re talking to me, aren’t you? I’ll take what I can get.
I feel a little shaky as I put down my phone and watch him take his turn. If he wants to stare at my ass, then I’m going to stare at his. Bryce has a great ass, and it’s cupped in the jeans he’s wearing. It would be a great ass even if I didn’t know what was underneath those jeans. But I do know, and that makes it both better and so, so much worse.
He throws the ball with perfect accuracy on the first try. “See, Katti?” he says as he comes back, brushing his hands together like he’s sweeping away invisible dust. “Two can play at that game.”
“I’m just getting started,” I say, showing him determination on my face.
My dad looks back and forth between us, a smile that’s both amused and confused on his face. “Play nice, you two.”
I smile sweetly. “I’m always nice.”
I land another strike on my next turn and come back to another message.
I like the view from back here. Perfect angle to enjoy your body.
You’re flirting with me.
Just stating facts, Katti. I have a very nice view of you when you throw the ball, and I have to say, I’m enjoying it.