“You owe me money, you stupid sonofabitch,” Chris grumbled to Wes as he yanked out his wallet and slapped a twenty into Rita’s hand.
“Hey, I wasn’t the one who challenged the girls to a game in the first place,” Wes answered, holding up his hands. “I know better than to stick my hand in the cage.”
“All right, you and me, Rita—double or nothing,” Chris bargained, ignoring Wes. “I can’t have him on my team anymore—he’s a liability whenever Sam’s around.”
“You’re on.” Rita laughed before handing the twenty to Wes. “Why don’t you put yourself to some good use and get us another round of beers.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Wes held his arm out to Sam. “Care to keep your shitty-pool-playing boyfriend company?”
Boyfriend? Did he seriously just say that?
It was out there before he could stop to think about it. Wes held his breath and his smile as Rita and Chris swiveled around, mouths open. It was common knowledge that Wes didn’t do relationships. And while he’d had several longer-term hook-ups and multiple-night-stands, truth was, girlfriend wasn’t a word he would have used for any of the girls he’d spent any kind of time with in the past. So Sam was kind of his “first” too in a way. And Wes was privately pleased about that.
Sam stepped toward him, a grin on her face as she looped her arm through his. “You’re only playing like shit because I was cheating,” she admitted with a wink, not mentioning the boyfriend slip.
Wes exhaled the breath slowly, relieved she hadn’t made a big thing of it, then immediately wondering why he kind of wanted her to.
Because she’s yours, and like a damn Neanderthal, you want everyone to know it.
Wes ordered a round of beers from the jammed bar, finding the only stool available and setting Sam on it. He crowded her space, his hands on the bar beside her as he leaned in for a kiss while they waited on their drinks. Wes had been kissing her for days now, and it just wasn’t ever enough. Her warm and piquant taste, her jasmine scent, and the sexy hitch in her voice when she said his name: It all drove him wild. He’d lost hours to daydreaming about her when they weren’t together, and even when he was with her, Wes felt like he’d never be able to get his fill.
Sam pulled back as the bartender interrupted their kiss with a loud ahem, and Wes tossed the bill on the bar. “Keep the change.”
“Seems to me they oughtta be paying you guys for that show,” the bartender replied, nodding at the tongues wagging on the bar. Several people even clapped and cheered.
“Young love,” Wes excused with a little bow. “You’d be acting a fool too if you had a girl as hot as mine.”
Sam slapped his shoulder, though she was grinning as she picked up two of the beer steins. “Speaking of fools, let’s watch Chris lose his ass to Rita.”
“So you two are cool again?” he asked, gathering the last two drinks.
“Yeah,” Sammy nodded as they made their way back to the table. “She’s only able to stay pissed with me for about forty-eight hours. That’s the longest she’s able to manage without breaking down.”
“And what about De Soto?” Wes asked. He’d seen the fading bruises on her stomach the morning after he’d made love to her—had freaked out in fact, thinking he’d been the one to do that to her somehow. Now he just wanted to find a deniable way to maim the bastard who’d laid a hand on his girl.
“Alejandro and I are as good as we can be, I guess,” Sam said, distracting him from his thoughts. “We’re not scheduled to do any paired exercises until after the Challenge.” She rolled her eyes. “I can hardly wait.”
“You know what they’ll be?” he asked, curious.
“Not yet,” she replied with a short shake of her head. “If we’re lucky, we find out the night before. Sometimes the upperclassmen get some inside info, but knowing how competitive Alejandro is, he’s not going to let either of us risk losing if he can get some kind of advantage.”
“Win at all costs?”
“Something like that.”
They got back just in time to watch Rita cream Chris with a sidestroke that had just enough English to nail the ball into the pocket from the other end of the table.
“Mother of God!” Chris groaned, pretending to slam his head into his cue.
Rita propped her ass on the pool table as she swung her legs, lean and brown from running outside every morning. She lifted her hand, palm up, her smile triumphant. “Money, honey.”
Chris yanked out his wallet and slapped another forty bucks into her hand. “You’re a damn hustler.”
“And you’re a sore loser,” she replied with a haughty little smile, pocketing the cash. “Sucker.”
“Here—console yourself with this,” Wes told Chris, handing him the beer.
“Got a game tomorrow,” Chris replied weakly, eyeing the frost on the glass with something akin to lust.
“Yeah, yeah, just shut up and drink it. It’s your one tonight, so I think you’ll live to die another day.” Wes shoved the glass in his hand, watching as Chris downed it like a man on fire.
Sam and Rita clinked glasses. “To your continued winning streak,” Sam toasted.
“Oh, we’re bringing home that trophy,” Rita assured her. “Maybe I’ll be the first woman in the Rangers,” she added with a saucy little wink.
“Maybe you will be,” Sam agreed. “And if you are, you’ll have no bigger fan than me.”
Wes gazed down at her in surprise. He knew Sam and Rita were tight, but he’d figured there was no way she’d lay down the gauntlet on a goal like that one.
“It’s good to hang out with you, man,” Chris said, tossing a lazy arm around Wes’s shoulders.
“You too,” Wes nodded. He’d been at Sam’s practically all week, when he wasn’t at class or working.
“She looks happy,” Chris commented, nodding toward Sam.
Wes watched her laughing with Rita, pushing her dark hair over her shoulder. “She’s amazing.”
“Yeah, she is,” Chris replied, finishing his beer.
Wes glanced at him. “We’re still cool, right?”
“Yeah,” Chris nodded, handing the empty glass to a passing waiter. “I wish I was the guy that lights her up like that, but—” he shrugged, as if to say c’est la vie. “It’s you, man. She loves you.”
Wes glanced at him in surprise. “She loves me?”
He knew Sam and Chris were friends, knew they talked and hung out when they studied. But had she told him she loved Wes?
“Lord, you’re dumb,” Chris marveled with the shake of his head. “Even the chickens under the porch know that girl’s gone over you.”
Wes’s eyes tracked back to Samantha. She caught his gaze at just the right moment, her lips curving in that slow, secret Mona Lisa smile of hers.
I am so in love with this girl.
“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Wes confided quietly.
“Don’t I know it?” Chris replied, squeezing his shoulder. “Just don’t fuck it up.”
Easier said… Wes thought back to his conversation with Miranda in the car. He knew why he’d picked Sammy. He just had no idea why the hell she’d agreed to it in the first place. Then he thought about his deal with her father. His mood darkened. If she ever found out…
Sam and Rita started a fresh game, their banter friendly but their game obviously competitive. Rita was dressed like a typical college girl—tight shirt, tight skirt, and plenty of skin in between. Sam was dressed in her usual jeans and tank top, sexy but not overt. As she tossed her hair back to lean over the table, the light caught the glint of the diamonds in her ears, the chrome of her fancy Swiss watch. She looked casual and elegant and rich. Not like the girl of a guy who took photographs, bartending and making fake IDs on the side.
“Why’s she with a guy like me?” Wes wondered aloud.
“World’s biggest mystery,” Chris teased, slapping him on the back.
“I’m serious.” Wes shook his head. “I’m
the first guy she’s ever been with, Chris,” he told him quietly. “Why me?”
Chris looked at him in surprise. “Seriously?”
Wes nodded, hiding his rumination behind a sip of beer.
Chris was silent a long time. “I know I give you a lot of shit, Wes, but why wouldn’t a girl like Sam fall for you? She’s lived on a path all her life. That’s easy enough to see. Then she meets a guy like you, playing by his own rules, living life in the moment—of course she’d be attracted to you. Why wouldn’t a girl who’s trying to figure herself out be with a guy who already knows who he is?”
Wes glanced at Chris in surprise.
“What?” Chris lifted a brow. “You surprised a big, dumb football player has got you all figured out?”
“You clearly don’t have me figured out if you think I know what I’m doing.”
“I didn’t say you know what you’re doing, smart ass,” Chris pointed out. “I said you know who you are. It’s one of the reasons you’re so damn cocky, isn’t it? You may not have everything nailed down yet, but you’ll get there. The confidence is there—the rest will fall into place, given half the chance.”
Wes’d never thought about it that way. But in a sense, he supposed Chris was right. He’d always been laid-back, largely because he wasn’t worried. Never felt like he had to be, not until Sam…
Sure, he’d wanted to be more than a decent photographer. But being more required a plan, and his idea of planning had always been going with the flow and seeing where life took him…but Sam was so not that. Worry teased the edge of his mind. For the first time since they’d been together, he felt a sliver of insecurity pervade his blithe happiness.
“What if I’m not enough for her?” Holy shit, did he seriously just say that aloud? Embarrassed color infused his cheeks.
Chris looked at him in surprise, then he gripped Wes’s shoulder tight with his massive hand, laughing so hard, he eventually had to wipe his eyes.
“Y’all all right over there?” Sam called out, lining up for a shot as Rita glanced at them curiously.
“Fine, fine!” Chris replied while Wes pushed him off with an annoyed shrug. “Dude,” Chris said when he finally got his breath back. “You’re definitely not enough for Sam,” he told Wes frankly. “But that’s why you want her so bad. Because you want to be, and that’s love, you stupid prick. Welcome to it.”
“You like feeling like this?” Wes asked, recalling Chris telling him how much he missed being in love.
“Well, yeah,” Chris looked at him like he was crazy. “Think about it, Wes—no man ever reached his full potential without a woman behind him, pushing him to do it.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Nah, man, that’s just the honest-to-God truth,” Chris argued. “If it’s not your mama, then it’s your sister, and if it’s not your sister, it’s the woman you love, and if it’s not her, then—”
Wes held up a hand. “I get it, I get it.”
“Look, you’re not equals, plain and simple,” Chris pointed out. “She’s loaded, you’re not. She’s smart, and you’re an idiot. She’s gorgeous and you’re just plain ugly,” Chris went on with a grin.
“Hardy har har.” Wes rolled his eyes.
“But that doesn’t mean you’re not giving each other something you both need,” Chris continued.
“Mind-blowing sex?” Wes smirked.
Chris winced. “Rub it in, would ya?”
“You deserved it,” Wes drawled. “For calling me ugly.”
“And you’re not offended by the rest?”
“Nah, the rest’s all accurate.”
Chris grinned, slapping his shoulder. “Look, just don’t sweat it too much, man. You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, and you damn well don’t try to give it dental work. Just be really freaking happy you got the girl. Lord knows I would be.”
Wes nodded absently, watching as Sam draw her elbow back, ready to take aim. She was two hits away from winning, Rita just barely ahead. Sam concentrated, closing one eye. Then she stood up, sat on the edge of the table, stuck the cue behind her back and made the shot, knocking both balls into the pocket with the ease of a seasoned player.
Rita’s mouth fell open.
Sam slid off the table, picked up her beer and finished it in a long gulp.
And all Wes could think was, Holy shit. That’s my girl.
Chapter 28
October—Sunday Night
Sam’s Apartment, Texas A&M
S A M A N T H A
“Stop! That tickles!!” Sam’s surprised laugh morphed into a thrilled gasp as she gripped Wes’s shoulders.
Her phone rang loud and long in the living room, startling her.
“Shit!” she exclaimed, scrambling up as she saw the time on her clock.
Wes’s head popped up from under the blanket, hair tousled every which way. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, grasping her waist as she tried to wriggle off the bed. “I’m just getting to the good part—”
“It’s Ry—I have to get it. We talk every Sunday night,” she explained quickly, pushing him off as she scrambled out from under the sheets.
“So call him back later,” Wes replied, perplexed, laid out on her bed in all his delicious, naked yumminess. As tempted as she was, Sam made it a point to never let Ryland down if she could help it.
“No way.” Sam shook her head as she tossed on his t-shirt. “I don’t stand that boy up. Ever.”
She leapt toward the phone before the voice recorder could pick up.
“Hey, hey,” she answered, breathless.
“You all right?”
“Dad!” She straightened immediately, unconsciously tugging Wes’s shirt down over her ass. “Is Ry alright? What’s going on? Where is he?”
“All right, all right, calm down,” her father replied. “He’s in the next room, finishing up dinner. I wanted to talk to you before he did.”
“Okaaaay,” Sam answered slowly, fidgeting. She’d yet to tell her father about being disqualified from the Challenge. Partially because she didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say about it, and partially because she’d been too distracted by the sex haze she’d been lost in over the past week with Wes.
“Ry wants a hayride for his birthday,” her father told her, interrupting her thoughts. “I know it’s the weekend before the Challenge, but you know how blue he’d be if you weren’t there—”
It was definitely time to fess up. She didn’t have to worry about being gone the weekend before anymore, just to make it home for her little brother’s birthday. She wandered back into her bedroom.
“It won’t be a problem,” Sam told him, noticing Wes slipping off the bed, looking lean and gorgeous like some golden god. He pulled on his jeans and pointed toward the kitchen, looking to give her a little privacy.
“Why not?” her father asked, drawing her attention. “I figured you’d all be on lockdown right before the competition.”
Sam took a breath. “I won’t be going to the Challenge, Dad.” She sat down on the bed. “I got eliminated last week.”
Her father said nothing for a moment and Sam chewed her lip, the tension getting her back up. Was he happy? Was he pissed? God, she wished she could see her father’s expression. But at the same time, she was relieved he couldn’t see hers as she admitted her failure.
“How?” he finally asked. “You were at the top of all the training sessions.”
“It’s a long story.” She rubbed her brow. “I’ll tell you about it later. But I’ll definitely be there for Ry’s birthday. Hell, I’ll even drive the tractor for the hayride if he wants,” she offered, trying to keep her tone light.
“He’d love that,” her father replied before a heavy pause. “You alright, Sammy? With what happened?”
Wes came back into the room with a lopsided grin and handed her a glass of water. Sam shifted the phone between her shoulder and ear, grabbing his hand as he turned to go. She squeezed his fingers in thanks,
and Wes lifted their hands to his mouth, eyes twinkling as he kissed her fingers.
I’m more than alright, actually. I’m better than I’ve ever been.
“I’m fine now,” she answered honestly. “Took me a few days to get over the news, but there’s always next year I guess.”
“I know you worked hard, Sammy—”
“And I’ll keep working hard, Dad,” she interrupted. “It’s just a setback is all.”
“All right, that’s it,” he replied, droll. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?”
Her brows lifted. “What do you mean?”
Her dad sighed. “Even though I didn’t want you to do it, Sammy, I’d understand if you were completely torn up over this.”
“I was upset,” Sam admitted. “I won’t deny that. But…” She looked up at Wes. “I’m trying to get a little perspective. Expand my horizons a little.”
Wes’s eyes twinkled as he laughed softly.
“Speaking of which…” Sam wondered if it was too much, too soon, but she went for it anyway.
“Go on,” her father responded.
“You cool if I bring a friend home?”
Wes blinked in surprise, realizing she was asking him to join her at the ranch.
“Sure,” her father replied easily. “You know Rita’s welcome anytime.”
“No, Dad.” Sam took a quick breath, steeling herself for a battle. “I meant a friend of the male variety.”
The silence was so kinetic, it nearly crackled over the line. Wes lay down on the bed beside her, sipping from her water glass as he leaned back on his elbow.
“You mean a boyfriend, I suppose?” her dad finally asked, a certain resignation in his voice.
“Yeah.”
Another long silence stretched out between them as she waited, her breath caught somewhere in her throat. Wes kissed her knee.
“You being safe, Sammy?”
“Jesus, Dad.” Her cheeks flamed. Wes glanced up, startled. He drew a question mark in the air and Sam waved it off, mortified.
“I just don’t want you to be taking unnecessary chances, Sammy.”
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