Page 48 of Draft Pick
I don’t want to hear about how well I played. Watch the game, support me and my boys, but don’t use it to get me to sleep with you.
Shit ain’t cute. And I’m too old for games.
My eyes scan through preoccupied couples and men simply here to watch the fights or the game. But just as Troy rejoins the bar, I’m about to call it a night when a familiar voice catches my ear.
Also sets my heart rate into a frenzy, but I won’t mention that.
“I’ve got to say, I never would have guessed that.”It’s her.
Now that I know Juniper is near, I can’t help but appear in her space however I can. This must be her date. Yeah. It has to be. No one shows up to Boone looking like every man’s fantasy without the intention of winning over a heart.
Why does my chest feel tight?
She’s in all black—no shock there. I can’t see everything since she’s sitting, but I can easily follow the fabric of her top that wraps around her neck. Her jaw and neck look dangerously slender and sharp against the tightness of her ponytail. It’s sexy when it shouldn’t be.
She shouldn’t be sexy to me. She should wear scrubs all day, every day, and never anything different. For my sake, purely.
Dr. Wilde came to play, and I just might have forgotten the rules.
I’m on my feet, planting myself directly in front of her and her date, whom I have yet to acknowledge both physically and mentally. Maybe if I pretend not to see him, he’ll somehow disappear.
Jesus, my mind is fucked right now.
“Crew. Oh, hey,” Juniper greets me, perking up in her seat against the wooden bar. I know what’s coming; her body language is issuing me a warning of the introduction to follow. But not so fast, pretty doctor. I’ll take it from here.
“Dr. Wilde.” I grin wide. “New top?”
Her eyes reach new heights, and I know I sound foolish. My mouth has a mind of its own at this point. She looks down and says cautiously, “It’s a jumpsuit.”
My brows furrow without a genuine clue what that is. “Well, whatever it is, it’s nice.”
I think I’ve stunned her.
Before she can respond, I finally decide to acknowledge the lucky, but also not-so-lucky man beside her. Lucky because, well, he gets to spend it with Juniper. And not so lucky because healsogets to look at my face all night. Not a chance I’m leaving here until they do.
He’s not horrible. Definitely not athletic. But not weak, either. Looks smart with Clark Kent-style glasses. Honestly, he resembles someone I’d probably pair her with myself.
I shouldn’t be pairing Juniper Wilde with anyone. Not a stranger. Not a friend. And definitely not me. But here I am, ready to compete. “Crew,” I greet him with very little effort. “What can I get you?”
“Vance. And I’ll take a strawberry daiquiri. Thanks.”
I can’t help it, but with two hands on the bar, I don’t look away. I can’t. Not when the dude’s name is fucking Vance. What mother sees her child for the first time after birth and says, “Hmm. I think I’ll name him Vance?”
Sounds like an *NSYNC knock-off.
A smirk tugs at my lips before my sights swing back to Juniper. “You look beautiful tonight.” I’m off to get their drinks before she can question me on it, giving myself time to figure out where I go from here.
I’ve already maneuvered my way into their conversation. Now, how do I find my way out?
15
JUNIPER
Nice top?I look beautiful tonight? Seriously?
What in the hell is his problem? One minute I’m chatting it up with Vance, who I’m learning I don’t have much in common with, yet is still very nice, and the next, Crew fucking Briggs decides he wants to intervene in the most abnormal way possible.
Oh, I get it. This must be some “I own the bar, I do what I want” bullshit. Well, not on my watch.
