Winning It All (Hometown Players Book 4)

by Victoria Denault

  Then this morning Shay mentioned her car was dead and I decided to be bold and just show up here and drive her to the party. I hadn’t thought twice about it until I got here. Now I have nothing to do but wait and overthink this bold move. Will she be grateful for the lift? Will she think it’s sweet? Stalkerish? Nah…she’ll like the confidence, even if she won’t admit it.

  Still, when she saunters out of the building at 5:15 p.m., I’m actually nervous. She’s changed out of the yoga pants and staff shirt and into a soft, black, strapless dress that reaches the sidewalk. She’s got on a turquoise necklace and matching earrings and her long, wavy brown hair is loose. She makes my dick hard.

  Shayne is digging in her bag, not watching where she’s going, so I step right out in front of her, and she slams into me. I grab her by the waist to keep her from falling over as she bounces off my chest. The impact causes her sunglasses to tumble back off the top of her head, and I reach out with one hand and catch them behind her back before they shatter on the pavement.

  “Good reflexes,” she says in a stunned voice. I take the sunglasses and slide them gently on top of her head again. My other arm is still around her back, holding her to me. She doesn’t attempt to step away.

  “You should watch where you’re going,” I say is a hushed whisper as I stare down at her intently. My head is dipped, and hers is tilted up, so our foreheads are almost touching.

  She blinks, regaining her composure. “You should watch where you’re going.”

  “I knew exactly where I was going,” I say and wink at her.

  She frowns, slips her sunglasses over her eyes and speaks with an aloof tone. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Date?” I can’t help but ask, even though I know the answer and that’s not it.

  “Plans,” she replies evasively, and shrugs her tiny, tanned shoulders. I wish those sunglasses weren’t covering her pretty gray eyes. They’re the most expressive part of her, and right now I’d love to know what she’s thinking.

  “So how are you getting to those plans?” I ask as I lean back against the light pole again. “Someone picking you up?”

  She laughs breathlessly and shakes her head. “Seattle has a very good public transit system, Frenchie.”

  She starts to walk down the sidewalk past me but I reach out and grab her wrist, spinning her back to face me. “You know what’s better than city transit? My Aston Martin.”

  “If you’re into pretentious vehicles that scream ‘I have a small penis,’ then yes, I guess it is better,” she retorts, but she’s letting me pull her toward the small parking lot where my car is.

  I click the remote to unlock the doors, and then I pull open the passenger door and wink at her. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with my size.”

  Her lips twitch at that, and she says simply, “The details are blurry. I don’t remember much about it at all, really.”

  Ouch.

  I motion toward the open car door, but she stands perfectly still and just stares at me. Is she really going to get on a bus instead of spending time with me? Really?! “I’ll take you to your barbeque.”

  Her eyes grow wide. “How do you know where I’m going?”

  “I called the psychic hotline,” I quip back. When the only motion she makes is to cross her arms I add, “Get in the car and I’ll explain on the way there. Promise.”

  She sighs heavily and takes a step toward the open passenger door. As she slips by me I whisper in her ear, “I remember every single second of that night.”

  “It was a long time ago,” she mutters quietly but with a tone in her voice that says that bothers her. Good. That means she missed me, even though she won’t admit it.

  “I know. I’ll explain that too. Eventually.” I slip into the driver’s seat and start the car and glance over at her. I swiftly veer out into traffic and hit the gas pedal. She glares at me through her sunglasses. “How do you know about the barbeque?”

  “We have mutual friends,” I reply.

  “Who?”

  “Relax, Shay, honey.”

  “My name is Shayne,” she huffs.

  “Whatever, Shay.”

  Chapter 7

  Shayne

  His middle name has got to be Arrogant Bastard because that’s what he is. He’s driving with this sexy little smirk on his lips and his eyes are sparkling and he’s winked at me more than once and my God, when did arrogance start making me hot? I could bail on him—jump out of the car at the next stoplight…but I won’t. I sat my ass in this delicious little sports car all by myself because I want to be here. But why does he want me here?

  By getting in the car did I just give him the impression it’s totally cool that we had sex, that I still don’t know his last name, and that he just disappeared for twelve days afterward? Is he interested in me? If he is, then why did he disappear? Is this his attempt at another random hookup? If it is, will I give it to him? Is that what I do now?

  No. It’s not. I just hate public transit and I’m lazy after a long day of work and maybe, just maybe, if I spend more time around him, maybe this will be something…more. Is that possible? Am I being naïve? Would veteran one-night-standers scoff at my stupidity? “Seriously. Who told you about the barbeque?”

  He drives like an Indy 500 champion—fast but in control. His eyes don’t leave the road. And the smirk on his pretty little lips doesn’t leave either. I sit staring at the cocky excuse for a smile, trying to decide if it angers me or creates that damn tingle.

  “And how did you know I was going? I need to know which friend shares my personal business with strangers,” I tell him in a clipped tone as I cross my arms like an angry teenager.

  “The hosts of the party invited me. You know, your college roommate and her boyfriend,” Sebastian replies flippantly. “They’re great, by the way. It’ll be your loss if you disown them.”

  “What?!” I’m beyond shocked. “Audrey invited you?”

  He smirks at my reaction, glancing quickly over at me before taking a turn fairly fast. “Josh did. He was at the bar last night too, and I know him. From Sutter Brothers. I just didn’t know he was dating Audrey. Small world, n’est pas?”

  “I don’t speak French,” I mutter back. He knows Josh from Sutter Brothers? Josh works at one of the biggest wealth management companies in the Pacific Northwest. Does that mean Sebastian is also a financial advisor? Or is he one of their millionaire clients? I stare at the luxurious car I’m sitting in. Holy shit, I think he’s a client.

  “Does he manage your portfolio?” I ask, trying to sound casual. I don’t care about money. I honestly don’t. None of my boyfriends have had a ton of money…Mind you the last time I had a serious boyfriend was college. And I repeatedly turn down my parents’ money. I could be living in a much nicer apartment, with a car that works, if I wanted to take their handouts. Seriously, money doesn’t matter, but…did I just bang a millionaire?

  Frenchie shakes his head. “No. His coworker Paul does. Do you know Paul? Oberman?”

  I shake my head and swallow, but my throat is unexpectedly dry, and I cough. He slows the car to an acceptable residential speed as we pull off a main street and start through the more residential area that leads to the park.

  “You’re a millionaire?” I manage to choke out and instantly regret it. I probably sound like a gold digger or something.

  He reaches over and pats my hand on my thigh. His smirk slips a little, but then he shrugs his broad shoulders. “Yeah.”

  “I thought you were an accountant or a lawyer or waiter or something.” Seriously, why won’t my mouth stop spitting out words? At least I managed to stop coughing.

  “You sound disappointed.” He is still smirking. I amuse him. Nifty.

  “I don’t care what you do for a living,” I say airily, finally gaining control of my words and actions again. “It was a one-night stand.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he replies in a deep whisper filled with promise.

  I bite my
lip and turn and stare out the window. He slows as two kids run through a crosswalk holding dripping ice cream cones, and I smile. When I glance at him, he’s smiling too, and it’s not cocky, it’s just pretty.

  Just past a newly renovated apartment building he takes a left down a road that looks like a dead end. There are only a few homes on it, and then the road narrows to essentially a one-way—even though it’s not—and the houses disappear. It’s nothing but overgrown grass and weeds. The property technically belongs to the city, but no one maintains it like they do the other park areas. It’s a popular place for locals because it’s less touristy than the other areas around the lake.

  Sebastian pulls over behind Josh’s red SUV at the top of the hill. Other cars line the rest of the narrow roadway. He turns the car off and hurries around to help me out. I ignore his outstretched hand, haul myself out of the smooth, deep leather seat, and storm ahead to the picnic tables by the water.

  I glance down the small rolling hill to the party. There are about a dozen people already here. They’ve set up chairs and towels on the long, slim strip where the grass gives way to sand by the edge of the lake. Josh and some other guy in a trucker hat whom I recognize as one of Josh’s friends are placing rocks in a circle to enclose what will become a fire pit. I march toward Audrey, who’s setting up camping chairs around the fire pit the boys are building. She’s grinning at me like a fool.

  “So, how was your day?” She winks at me.

  “Fuck you, you traitorous whore,” I say flatly and flop down in a chair.

  “I see you found a ride.” She wipes the condensation off the can of beer in her hand and flicks the water from her fingers at my face. It splatters all over my sunglasses.

  As I remove them to clean them, I glance over my shoulder. Josh has jogged up to help Sebastian with the two coolers he’s pulled from his trunk. I didn’t realize he brought stuff. So now I’m the jerk who grabs a ride and abandons him. Perfect. I stand to go back up there, but with Josh’s help he doesn’t need me, so I allow myself to unabashedly admire the sight of Frenchie. He looks sexy as hell in his casual clothes. Just as sexy as he does in a suit. And in sweaty workout wear. His hair is an intricate, tousled mess, curling slightly at the ends. My fingertips tingle with the need to touch it. His hair was so soft and deceivingly thick when I held on to it that night while I came…

  I give my head a shake to fight the heat rising in my body. “You should have warned me.” I pull my gaze back to my best friend and give her a pointed stare.

  “You said you didn’t care if you ever saw him again,” Audrey reminds me, shaking the water out of her dirty blond hair. “You said it was no big deal and you were over it.”

  I swallow. I did say that. A few nights ago when she came over for wine and Scandal. And clearly I was rather convincing. Or maybe not, judging by the devious glimmer in Audrey’s brown eyes. I frown at her. “A heads-up would have been cool,” I repeat firmly.

  “So have you fucked him again yet?” she asks in a voice that is way too loud for my liking.

  I shush her and frown. “Of course not! We just drove here.”

  “I’d fuck in that car,” she replies with a shrug of her tiny shoulders, and I flip her the bird.

  Suddenly there’s a beer dangling in front of my face. I tip my head back and see Sebastian smiling down at me from behind my chair. “Something to cool off that hot little temper of yours, ma belle,” Seb says softly as he gives the can a little tilt from side to side.

  Butterflies take off from my belly and bounce off my rib cage. My hormones are clearly ignoring the memo my brain sent regarding this matter. I stand, turn to face him, and take the beer from him. He’s cracked it already. I tilt my head skeptically and switch the cans, giving him the one he offered me and taking the one he just sipped from.

  “You could have roofied this one,” I explain. “You can never be too safe.”

  With that I leave him standing there, his mouth hanging open. Audrey laughs and I hear Josh say, “Yeah, ’cause Sebastian has so much trouble finding a chick that he has to drug them.”

  I ignore them all and stomp over to where a few friends are playing volleyball.

  Chapter 8

  Sebastian

  Two can play at this game, I remind myself as I watch Shayne. She’s sitting on the top of the picnic table, legs crossed under her dress, while some dude in a trucker hat talks her ear off as she eats carrot sticks with ranch dip off her plate.

  She’s been talking to him, and only him, for the last hour. The sun is quickly setting and the whole lake is reflecting golden light from the pink-and-gold sunset and it’s making her look even hotter. And naturally that’s making me nuts. Josh started a fire. Audrey is pulling out marshmallows and hunting down sticks. The air is still muggy and warm, and my mood is making me even hotter under the collar.

  It’s one thing for her to brush me off. I mean, I guess I kind of deserve it since I haven’t explained why I’ve been MIA for almost two weeks. I really want to, but I can’t tell her I’m a hockey player just yet, and I haven’t figured out how to lie without really lying. I could say I was on a business trip, which is technically true, but what if she asks me what I do? I’ve already admitted I have money, which is also not a lie, so she’s probably curious how I earn it.

  I have to tell her what I do, but I want to get back to what we were that first night. And I’m not just talking about the sex part. I’m talking about the way she smiled at me, the way she flirted. The excitement in her eyes. I want to bring that out again. I want her to feel that again so she’s willing to make an exception to her silly hockey hate thing.

  The douche in the trucker hat leans down and whispers something in her ear. Shayne tips her head back to laugh, but when she rights herself, her eyes find mine. And I am suddenly very certain she wants me to see this. I stand up from the camping chair I’m sitting on by the fire and walk right up to a blonde I met earlier named Carly. She made it clear that she was interested in me earlier with the way she flipped her short blond hair and begged me to be her volleyball partner.

  “So how’d you do out there?” I ask, and nod my head toward the sandy makeshift volleyball court.

  “We lost.” She frowns and then puts her hand on my chest. “But I would have won if you’d been my partner!”

  I glance over to where my new friend Josh, who was her partner, is standing staring at us. He heard everything. I give him a quick “sorry, bud” look and he shrugs. I look down at her and give her my best puppy dog face.

  “I wanted to play,” I say, making sure my voice is soft and deep, the way I talk to sports reporters after a tough loss, because chicks have told me they love that. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret…”

  I let my sentence trail off and hold my breath as I glance around as if to make sure no one is paying attention, when in fact I’m making sure I have Shayne’s full attention. My eyes catch hers briefly, and she quickly looks away, which means she’s riveted to my little scene. I bend so my head is right next to the blonde’s ear, and I use my hand not holding a beer to push her chin-length hair back so I’m right against her ear. “I’m kind of injured.”

  As I pull back her big blue eyes flare and her hand moves from my chest to my elbow. She squeezes it sympathetically. “Oh my God, really?”

  Her voice got louder so I shush her, and I notice Shayne isn’t even pretending not to pay attention anymore. “Nothing serious, just a strained tendon in my wrist, but we start playoffs soon so I need to be careful,” I say quietly, because I haven’t told anyone—except the trainers and my coach.

  “What happened? Did you fall on it on the ice or did someone hit you with a stick or something? What do they call that? Slashing, I think?” I nod, and she smiles like she thinks she’s a genius for figuring it out.

  I smile and try not to think about the fact that the team doctor looked a little more concerned yesterday than I would have liked. “No big deal, I shouldn’t miss any gam
es. I landed a punch wrong in a fight. Just bad luck.”

  She nods and lifts her red Solo cup to her lips, taking a sip before smiling at me and batting her eyes. “Maybe your luck will change tonight?”

  I watch her walk away, back over to her gaggle of girlfriends by the shore. Wow. That’s too easy. But I want Shayne. Only Shayne.

  I glance over at her, and she’s staring right back at me. She says something to Trucker Hat, jumps off the table and makes her way over to the fire—right where I’m standing. She stops half a foot from me, her eyes set on the crackling fire in front of us.

  “Hope you brought a condom, Frenchie,” she murmurs, still looking at the fire.

  “You don’t have one in your bra this time?”

  Even in the low light I can see the red flush on her cheeks that that comment is causing. God, I fucking love making this girl blush. As always, she recovers much more quickly than I’d like.

  She steals a glance at me and subtly points to Carly with the index finger wrapped around her beer. “She looks like she’s got more STDs than IQ points.”

  “At least she’s not in a trucker hat,” I retort and snort a little in disgust. “Make sure he double bags it.”

  She can’t keep a straight face at that comment. She cracks a grin and I grin back. She’s got one hell of a smile. It’s like it starts in her toes and pulls up her entire body. It’s honestly contagious. I lean toward her. “Oh, and by the way, next time you stock up on condoms, make sure to buy Magnum. That one the other night was a little tight.”

  “Wet Hide and Go Seek!” Audrey yells from the water’s edge.

  A roar erupts and people start peeling out of their clothes. I look to Shay for some indication of what the hell that means. She turns her back to me and yanks her dress down, leaving it in a pile on the grass. She’s in nothing now but a coral strapless bikini, and the sight makes my jaw drop so low I’m surprised it’s not hitting the sand. I watch her step out of her flip-flops and take a few steps toward Trucker Hat, who is beckoning me from the shore.