Page 50 of Draft Pick
“Uh. Why would you see me there?” No, but really. I’m not a part of the team, nor do I have any reason to be there unless I was invited. Which I wasn’t.
“Because I like you there.”
I have to ignore him. The way my heart stops in my chest and pleads to know more about what Crew likes. I’m on a date with another man, and now is not the time. “Vance,” I say, turning toward my date. “I think I’m about ready to call it a night.”
He slurps his drink. “You sure? We didn’t get a chance to order food yet?”
“Technically—” Crew jumps to interrupt, but I stop him with my hand.
“I’m not very hungry and would like to go home.”
“Sure,” he mumbles, hesitation and uncertainty in his eyes. “Mind getting us the check?”
Crew pats the counter and throws a bar towel over his shoulder. “Comin’ right up.”
We sit in silence waiting for the check, only for Crew to slide the bill to Vance. I sit awkwardly, wanting nothing more than to get out of here and forget this date ever happened. I don’t know why I thought coming to Boone for a date was a good idea.
Silly me thinking Crew could behave like a grown adult.
Turns out, he has an insufferable side just like the rest of the male population.
“There must be a mistake,” Vance speaks up, holding the bill out to Crew. “There’s only my two daiquiris on here.”
“That is correct,” Crew agrees on a steady nod, resuming his mindless tasks. He begins rinsing our glasses when Vance speaks again. “If you don’t mind adding Juniper’s, too, that would be great. I’m covering the bill.”
Crew stills. “And I’m covering hers. It’s on the house.”
“Crew,” I interject. “You don’t have to do that. Just let him pay.”
A deep hum resounds between us, and for a moment, I fear what’s next. “Hey, Doc?”
“Yes?”
“Are we friends?”
“I think so, yes.”
“Then, you should know that friends don’t pay. You belong here. Whatever I have is yours. Take it or leave it. You take it, and you’ll never pay a dime if I have anything to do with it.”
I stare blankly, unsure what to say. I’m grateful to have a friend, but I’m also not convinced this is Crew trying to be my friend. It feels like more. “I’ll take it,” I say, standing from my barstool and turning toward Vance. “Ready?”
Vance looks confused as hell but doesn’t question it, throwing a fifty on the bartop. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. Keep the change.”
Crew grins, turning quickly to make a drink for another customer. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and we’re less than a few feet from the bar before he speaks again, my insides melting with heat. “Bye, Doc. See you bright and early.”
Resisting Crew Briggs is becoming much more of a roadblock than I anticipated. Can’t even go on a damn date.
16
CREW
“Aprons?”
“Check.”
“Ingredients?”
My eyes sweep across the kitchen counters. “Check.”
