Wright Rival (Wright)

“Yeah. I guess she does.”

We stepped into our own private suite off of the main Owners Club. My eyes widened at the perfect, uninterrupted view of the Cosmere setup on the Dallas Cowboys football field. It was spectacular. Hundreds of seats had been added to the floor around a giant stage with wings on either side and a long runway through the front. That way, Campbell could walk forward during some songs, as if he were a part of the audience. It was brilliant. I’d never seen anything like it, and it wasn’t even lit up yet.

Jordan appreciatively ran his hand along the back of the first seat. “This is the way to live.”

I laughed as Julian nodded. “Isn’t this what you’re used to?”

Jordan and Julian had been raised in Vancouver under the tutelage of their douche father, Owen. Jordan worked for Wright Construction as an executive vice president. They came from money…a lot of money.

They exchanged a look and shrugged.

“Sure,” Julian said.

“I suppose,” Jordan said. “I didn’t have a whole lot of time to enjoy it though. That’s the beauty of moving to Lubbock. I work a lot less, believe it or not.”

That was hard to believe. Jordan was the biggest workaholic I knew. Even worse than Piper. Even worse than Annie, who was a doctor. But I was thankful that he had any time for the winery he’d helped us build from the ground up.

“Glad you have the time,” I said. “I’m glad you’re all here.”

Jordan leaned back against the seat, facing away from the show as the opener was announced. He crossed his arms. “So, what are you going to do about Piper?”

I ran a hand back through my hair. “Fuck if I know.”

“You can’t play games with her,” Julian said. “If you like her, you’re going to have to be straight with her.”

“Yeah. Sure. That sounds like me.”

“She’ll eat you alive if you pull the shit you pull on everyone else,” Julian said.

“I concur,” Jordan said, eyeing me suspiciously. “She seems like she’d be a match for you. Good luck.”

Just then the girls prowled back inside, drinks in hand, laughing. Piper met my gaze, and she smiled. She was having a good time. And I liked that she was having a good time.

The guys were right about one thing at least.

If I wanted her, I’d have to tell her.

And I intended to do just that.

11

Piper

Hollin wouldn’t stop looking at me. I’d chanced a glance at him through the first two openers, and he’d quickly looked away. I had gone to grab another dessert, and his eyes had followed me. I’d sung along to the hit song for the second opener, and I could feel him staring at my lips.

I didn’t know how to process this. How fast things had gone from us needling each other to this. Whatever this was, I had no idea. But I couldn’t deny that I liked the attention. I liked him watching me. I liked him looking appreciatively. But I didn’t know what it all meant. I didn’t know if he was being a dickhead like normal and there was going to be some antagonistic punch line, because that seemed more like him.

Especially after he’d touched me. I could still vividly remember the way it’d felt to have his hand on my thigh. And not just…touched. He’d held me down. Held me in place with that one massive hand on my bare skin. It had set fire to my core like nothing else. I should have abhorred that touch. And now, I couldn’t stop thinking about what else those powerful hands could do to me if I let them.

I hopped up from my seat. “I’m going to go look at the bar again. Anyone else want anything?”

“I’ll take another gin and lime,” Blaire said.

“You know the bartender can get that stuff for you,” Jordan said.

Annie swatted at him. “The girl wants to move around and get another dessert. Just let her.”

I laughed. She wasn’t wrong. The desserts were delicious. I’d tried them all. I was a fan of the pecan pie.

“My bad,” Jordan said.

“I’ll go with you,” Hollin said as he climbed out of his front row seat.

“Why?” I snapped before I could stop myself.

He raised an eyebrow. “I wanted to check out the whiskey selection. I heard they have an Owners Select Maker’s Mark, which was crafted by Jerry Jones himself.”

“Oh,” I whispered. “Sure.”

I wet my lips and backed out of the suite. Hollin fell into step with me. We rounded the corner out of the hallway for the suites and into the main area of the Owners Club.

“You like bourbon?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Want to try the Maker’s with me?”

I looked over at him, waiting for the antagonism. It didn’t come. “Sure.”

He ordered us both tasting samples while I requested the two gin and limes for me and Blaire. He swished the shot of bourbon around in its glass. I picked mine up and sniffed it. Smelled like Maker’s to me. I didn’t have a discerning palate for bourbon like I did for wine. But that was my job. This was just for fun.