Never Have You Ever (The Love Game Book 1)

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Never Have You Ever (The Love Game Book 1) Page 13

by Elizabeth Hayley

Aniyah narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m more fun than you could even contemplate trying to handle.”

  Xander rose slowly, never taking his eyes off her. “Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re going out so you can prove it.”

  The stare-down continued until Toby spoke up. “Um, should we…I mean, are we dressed okay? Should we change?”

  I gave him a quick once-over. He was at least wearing jeans, so that was a step in the right direction.

  “You can borrow one of my shirts,” I told him. The idea of launching Operation Get Toby Laid was becoming increasingly appealing. Not to mention the fact that I couldn’t wait to watch Aniyah and Xander rage-grind all over a dance floor—not in a perverted way, but because I wanted to see how much angry friction they could create before they combusted.

  “Oh, I don’t think… Are we the same size?” Toby asked.

  We weren’t, but I’d fucking hand-knit him something to wear to make this happen.

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  And we did. Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed in a white button-down and a pair of dark jeans, and Toby was in a polo of mine that was so tight on me, it bordered on obscene. I usually reserved it for nights when I had an itch that needed to be scratched and wanted to be noticed quickly. It fit Toby well enough, and he seemed to like it even if he was a bit uncomfortable in peach.

  “Are you sure it looks okay?” he asked for at least the sixth time.

  I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It takes a certain kind of guy to pull off that color, and you, my man, are pulling it off.”

  His smile was wide and happy. Fuck did I like this kid.

  The girls had all disappeared into the bedroom to do whatever girls did in order to get ready for a night out. Xander continued to recline on the couch and play on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he was in sweatpants and a plain black Henley.

  It thankfully wasn’t much longer before the girls joined us. Aniyah was still wearing the tight red shirt and dark-rinse jeans she’d had on when she arrived, but she’d definitely added some makeup to her eyes.

  Taylor was also in jeans but had on a light-blue tank top that she was pulling a soft-looking white jacket over. Both girls looked good—great, really—but I only had eyes for Sophia, who was wearing a beige sweater-dress thing that came to mid-thigh and fell off one shoulder. She’d paired it with boots that came up to her knees.

  She stopped beside me, and my tongue felt numb when I said, “You look nice.”

  “Thanks,” she replied. “Figured if I was going to run for president, I needed to look the part.”

  I wasn’t sure how what she wore to a club would impact her role as president, but I also sure as shit wasn’t going to complain.

  “We ready?” Sophia asked everyone.

  Everyone murmured assent as we followed her and Taylor out of the apartment. I locked the door behind us, and we were on our way.

  The bar Aniyah had chosen was only three blocks from the apartment, so despite it being a bit chilly out, we decided walking was our best bet. Our hodgepodge of a group moved like a chatty blob down the sidewalk, causing people to walk around us as we made our way down the street.

  We hadn’t gotten far from the apartment when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I fished it out and saw a text from Carter.

  Hey, man. Did you know

  football players who can hold

  their liquor are a dying breed?

  I stared at the phone in confusion for a second, unsure what the hell he was talking about. Not that I should’ve been surprised. Carter had taken to texting me random things in the couple of weeks we’d known each other. I typed a response.

  I did not. I also find that surprising.

  Aren’t you guys all huge?

  His reply came quickly.

  The bigger they are the

  harder they fall, dude.

  I didn’t think you guys would

  drink much during the season.

  Ha! Half of these guys will be in AA

  by the time they’re seniors. But it’s

  worse than usual tonight because

  we have a bye this weekend.

  Ah. Gotcha.

  What are you doing?

  Heading to some bar with my study

  group and Sophia and her friend.

  Aniyah said it was called Tonic.

  I know that place. Total meat

  market. I’ll meet you there!

  I couldn’t help but laugh at his last text. Sophia must’ve heard me because she turned and looked at me quizzically.

  “It’s Carter,” I explained. “He’s gonna meet us at the bar.”

  “Cool” was all she said in reply, but her smile showed she meant it.

  I texted Carter that we’d meet him inside and then put my phone back into my pocket.

  We arrived at the bar soon after and paid a five-dollar cover to get in. I hadn’t thought to ask and make sure everyone in our group was twenty-one—some bartender I was—but everyone produced an ID, so I guessed we were set.

  Aniyah led us to a corner of the bar where there were two open tables. I paused to take the place in. The bar was huge and set in the center of the room, with leather-upholstered chairs surrounding it. Three bartenders shared the space, filling orders, while servers floated among the tables that lined the walls. The floor was wood, and the space had a kind of rustic vibe. Definitely not what I was expecting from a place called Tonic.

  “This place is nice,” I said.

  “There’s a second floor that’s more like a club,” Aniyah explained when we sat down. “I figured we could eat down here before heading upstairs. Have any of you been here before?”

  “I have,” Sophia answered, but everyone else stayed quiet.

  I was surprised there was a club overhead. They must have excellent soundproofing.

  We looked through the menus and decided to order a bunch of apps to share. The server was just returning with our drinks when Carter showed up.

  “Hey, can I get a Corona?” he asked her. “Thanks.” Then he plopped down into an open chair next to Toby and almost immediately leaned over him and extended his hand toward Taylor. “Hey, how’s it going? I’m Carter.”

  Taylor didn’t hesitate to grab his hand and introduce herself.

  Carter relaxed into his seat and turned to Toby. “Nice to see ya, man. Love that shirt. Very suave.”

  “Oh, uh, thanks. Brody lent it to me.”

  Carter sat back in his seat and regarded me. “That’s what my life has been missing. A gay friend to give me fashion advice.”

  I saw Taylor’s head whip toward Sophia, to which Sophia subtly shook her head. Taylor schooled her features, but I was sure there’d be a discussion happening there as soon as they were alone.

  “You’re gay?” Xander asked.

  “Oh, uh, yeah. Yup. Definitely.” Pretending to be gay gave me new appreciation for LGBTQ people. Coming out over and over again was exhausting.

  “Huh,” he said. “Never would’ve guessed.”

  Aniyah scoffed. “Why would you? What, you think all gay people look and act a certain way or something?”

  “Simmer down, Cujo,” he replied dryly. “I usually have great gaydar is all.”

  Aniyah opened her mouth to no doubt yell at Xander some more, but Carter cut in before she could.

  “Not me. A dude could basically blow me, and I’d have no idea.”

  Jesus Christ, I needed out of this conversation stat.

  “How come you’re out tonight, Carter?” Sophia, bless her, asked. “Doesn’t the team usually hang together after games?”

  “Nah, we have this week off,” he answered as the server dropped off his drink. He thanked her before taking a long pull.

  “Oh, that’s right,” Sophia said. “I forgot.”

  “You’re a wide receiver, right?” Toby asked. He hadn’t done much conversing with Carter on the few occasions they’d been in the same pr
oximity. Maybe the shirt was giving him confidence.

  Carter’s face lit up like the sun. “Yeah. You like football?”

  “I, yes, I do. There’s a lot of strategy involved that’s intriguing.”

  Carter wrapped an arm around Toby’s shoulder. “Where have you been all my life?”

  Toby’s smile was wide, and as he and Carter began talking about all things football, I suspected I wasn’t the only one who’d be taking Toby under his wing from here on out.

  S O P H I A

  Dinner went well. Carter announced proudly that he had the perfect costume for Aamee’s party, but he’d been having trouble finding a date to agree to be the other half. He refused to tell us who he was going to be, but since a good-looking football player was having trouble finding a date, I could only assume he wanted someone to be something like Wardrobe Malfunction Janet Jackson.

  “How ’bout you guys?” he asked. “Who are you going as?”

  “Someone who thinks Greek life is a way to make money and steal people’s individuality,” Aniyah said.

  Carter looked around like he had no idea what she was talking about. “The theme’s musical couples, so you might wanna rethink that.”

  “I’m not going, Ochocinco.”

  He eyed her like he wasn’t sure what to make of that before saying, “You will,” as if it were his decision. “And I’ll choose to take the Ochocinco comment as a compliment.” Then he looked around at the rest of us. “What about all of you? Who are you going as?”

  “I haven’t thought much about it,” Drew admitted, and I said the same. If I were going to put my focus into a sorority event, it was going to be my own.

  After some peer pressure from the rest of the group, Xander said he’d consider going but couldn’t make any promises, and Toby was just shocked he was invited. I didn’t want to pop his pseudo-popularity bubble by telling him it was open to anyone who wanted to attend.

  It surprised me how much our odd little group got along, but there was no denying that we meshed well.

  Carter drained his second beer before putting it down loudly on the table. “We heading upstairs?”

  Everyone agreed, so we settled our tab and made our way up to the club. I’d been here a couple of times before—once for an eighteen-and-over night and another with a fake ID. It wasn’t normally my scene, especially since Greek life came with a built-in social calendar, but I was looking forward to blowing off some steam with Taylor.

  The club was much more crowded than I would’ve guessed, considering how laid-back it was downstairs. Music pulsed through the room as strobe lights flashed to a DJ’s beat.

  “Come dance with me,” Taylor yelled over the noise, and she began dragging me behind her before I could reply. Not that I would’ve refused, but I might have at least tried to make sure the others were following us. We were quickly swallowed by gyrating bodies, and I lost sight of the others.

  It didn’t take long for me to lose myself to the music. Sweat began to slick my skin as we moved to the beat. On the dance floor with Taylor, I let it all go: the bullshit with Aamee, the fundraiser I’d have to throw, the complicated mess with Drew, the stress of school, all of it.

  It was like the perspiration pushed it from my body and it dissipated into the air as we danced. Guys came and went, but Taylor and I paid them little to no attention, so they quickly moved on.

  Eventually, though, I began feeling my body getting sluggish. I leaned close to Taylor and said into her ear, “Wanna get a drink?”

  She nodded instead of responding verbally. I grabbed her hand so we wouldn’t be separated and led us to the bar. There was a throng of people—at least two deep—around the bar.

  “This is intense,” I yelled to her.

  “Maybe we should go to the bar downstairs?” Taylor asked.

  I was contemplating it when I felt a presence at my shoulder. “Need a drink?” a deep, raspy voice asked.

  I whirled around and locked on to a set of dark eyes. I didn’t know the man who’d spoken, but I was interested in rectifying that. He was gorgeous, with curly dark hair, a wide smile full of perfect teeth, and there might have even been a dimple. It was tough to tell in the dark. It could’ve been a shadow from his stubbled jaw.

  “Yeah,” I replied, motioning to the people in front of me. “But it’s probably going to be a while.”

  “I think I can help you out with that.” He gestured for us to follow him before making his way to the end of the bar, where there was a large assortment of glasses waiting to be put away. “Wyatt!” he yelled.

  I leaned in and saw a guy look over at him, hold up a finger to say he’d be over in a minute, and then finish the drink he was making.

  “He’ll be right over. I’m TJ, by the way.” He shook my hand and then Taylor’s as we each told him our names. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said to us, though he looked at me.

  “Jesus, it’s fucking packed in here,” Wyatt said, slightly out of breath. “What can I get ya?”

  “I’ll take a fresh one,” TJ said as he held up his glass. “And then whatever they’re drinking.”

  I didn’t want to order something that was a hassle to make so I asked for a Malibu and Sprite.

  “I’ll have the same,” Taylor said.

  Wyatt nodded and set off to make our drinks.

  TJ turned his attention back to us. Well, to me.

  “You guys from around here?”

  I always hated questions like that, because while it could be harmless small talk, it was also exactly the kind of thing a creep would want to know.

  “Not originally,” I replied, being intentionally vague.

  “Me neither. But I came here for college, stayed for a Master’s, and now I work downtown, so I guess I’m here to stay.” TJ’s smile was charming and endearing—the kind of smile I couldn’t help but return.

  Wyatt returned with our drinks, and TJ said, “Add them to my tab.”

  “Oh, you don’t need to do that,” Taylor said.

  TJ waved her off. “No worries. It’ll save Wyatt time if he doesn’t have to open a new tab.”

  That was likely bullshit, but there wasn’t much point in arguing.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “So, what do you two do for a living?” he asked.

  “We’re students,” Taylor replied before I had a chance to.

  “Oh, what are you studying?”

  “Criminal Justice,” Taylor said, the words thrown out almost like they were a warning. Though I couldn’t decide if it was because she usually had to deal with dudes who expected her to say something like Supermodel Training or because she was warning him that she wouldn’t hesitate to turn the law against him if he stepped out of line.

  “Nice. Going to go into law enforcement?”

  “Law School.”

  TJ nodded before turning his attention to me.

  “I’m a little more boring,” I said. “Marketing, with a minor in psychology.” I felt dumb after I added the last bit, but marketing wasn’t the most interesting field, while psychology was. Not that I was trying to impress this guy. Even if he was movie-star handsome and bought me drinks and looked at me like he wanted to devour me.

  Shit, I’m trying to impress him.

  Though, what was so wrong with that? I was single and therefore totally available to mingle. Sure, there was the awkward attraction to my pseudo–gay brother niggling in the back of my mind, like an annoying student raising her hand despite the teacher obviously ignoring her.

  But his eyes brightened, and he stood up a bit straighter. “Marketing, huh? I’m in advertising.”

  “Oh, wow,” I replied, because what else did one say to something that wasn’t at all fascinating while trying to pretend it was?

  “Yeah,” he said as he swayed a bit closer to me.

  I could feel Taylor burning a hole in the side of my head with her eyes, but I didn’t look back at her. This could be good. TJ had nothing to do with any of the
drama in my life. He could be an uncomplicated side note in an otherwise chaotic narrative.

  “Do you want to dance?” he asked me, his voice as low as it could be while still allowing me to hear him.

  “Sure,” I replied, though I kind of didn’t want to join him. I felt like I should want to, but…I wasn’t sure. The connection was missing. That desire to actually get to know a person wasn’t there, but it could get there. After all, it was only a dance. And maybe spending more time with him would make me feel…something.

  “Hey, TJ!” We all turned to see Wyatt motioning TJ over.

  “I’ll be right back,” TJ said with a vehemence that made me think he was worried I was going to pull a Cinderella on him.

  “I’ll be here,” I replied with a smile.

  As soon as he walked away, Taylor rounded on me. “He’s cute. Oh, and, what the fuck are you doing?”

  I felt my brow furrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you dancing with him?”

  “Because he asked,” I responded slowly.

  “What about Drew?”

  “What about him?” My voice sounded too casual and dismissive, even to my own ears.

  She glared at me, an effective strategy that always made me cave and fill the silence.

  “There’s nothing going on between Drew and me. You know that.”

  I’d spilled all the details regarding Drew, even about the almost-kiss. I had maybe skimmed over my feelings surrounding the kiss, allowing it to be written off as a drunken mistake, but did that really matter? I couldn’t act on my attraction to Drew, so acknowledging my feelings out loud wouldn’t change anything.

  “Nothing physical is going on, but…” Taylor trailed off, casting a glance to where TJ was still talking to Wyatt.

  “But what?”

  She sighed. “You look at him. A lot. And he does the same thing.”

  “Of course I look at him. I live with him. I see him every day.”

  “Don’t be intentionally stupid.”

 

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