The Tight End (Red's Tavern 6)

“If we’re going out, we’re definitely not driving home, though,” Vance said. “Who’s going to be DD?”

“None of us are,” I said. “Let’s pitch in for a cab.”

“I second that,” Mike said.

Ten minutes later a cab was pulling up. We all huddled into the back and set out for the short ride over. Red’s Tavern wasn’t a far drive from campus, and soon we pulled up in front of the building, with its unassuming brick front and awning with dangling lights. There were a couple of big pumpkins on either side of the front doorway now, too.

Red’s Tavern always felt good. I hadn’t visited much, but ever since I’d turned twenty-one and been able to go, I’d tried to come around and have a beer whenever I could. We walked in and grabbed one of the big, round corner booths near the back, and a woman came to help us out right away.

“I’m Grace, I’ll be your server,” she said, giving us a warm smile. “What can I get you boys started with?”

We ordered a round of their new special autumn harvest lagers, and at the last minute, added in a round of tequila shots to start the night off right. After tossing them back, Mike and Vance got into a heated discussion about who was most likely to win the Super Bowl this spring.

It was ridiculous. February was months away. But I laughed as they debated, feeling the nice warmth of the tequila and beer hit my blood.

I sat back, letting my gaze linger on guys all around the bar, seeing if there were any prospects. My eyes fell on a guy who was sitting at the bar, facing away from me. His light brown hair was a mess, kind of like Logan’s usually was. A sexy kind of mess.

Actually, the guy really looked like Logan. At least from behind. He was wearing a fitted navy blue sweater that hugged tight against his body. That slim, superhero-off-duty look.

My cock stirred a little under my pants.

God, I liked it so much. Something about the disheveled, just-rolled-out-of-the-library look was turning me the hell on lately, and I wanted more.

It was settled. I was going to go over there, flirt like hell, and hopefully be able to take him home. I didn’t know why my dick was apparently so into the idea of getting with a Logan lookalike, but I wasn’t going to think about it too much.

As I started to stand up, the cute guy turned to talk to the girl next to him, and I realized immediately that I was an idiot.

I snorted, laughing at myself, now, instead of at Vance and Mike.

It was Logan.

My dumb ass had just never considered that a guy like him would be out at a bar on a Saturday night.

“I’ll be right back, guys,” I told Mike and Vance, sliding out from the booth and heading over to the bar.

As I walked over I couldn’t keep my eyes off of them. The girl he was with kind of looked like a female version of him—she was in glasses, wearing a sweater, and had her long hair back in a ponytail. Was it possible that he was on a date?

Shit.

It totally could be a date.

I froze in place, just a few steps behind them. I’d assumed Logan was gay because he’d agreed that Russell Crowe was hot, but for all I knew, he was bi, or maybe even just straight and comfortable in his sexuality. Here I was, potentially about to crash a socially anxious guy’s date, just because I didn’t think things through. Now who was the awkward one?

“Brody?” Logan said, turning just in time to see me. I was caught.

“Evening,” I said, trying to act casual as I walked up to them.

“You’re here?” he said, incredulous.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m celebrating with a couple of my teammates.”

“At Red’s Tavern?” he asked. “I thought you guys would be at a big frat house or a dance club or something.”

“Some of the team is probably doing that,” I said. “But we wanted a more chilled-out vibe tonight.”

I glanced over at the girl.

“Oh God, sorry,” Logan said, tearing his gaze away from me. “I’m so bad at introductions. Brody, this is my best friend, Danielle. Dani, this is my new housemate.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Danielle said, giving me a shy smile. “I’ve heard so much.”

“Not so much—” Logan started to protest.

“This is him?” a bartender said from behind the bar. He was fit, blond, and wearing a pink tank top that said I Like Big Butts on the front. He looked me up and down, clearly the opposite of shy. I was pretty sure I’d seen him working here last time I came in.

“Sam,” Logan hissed at the bartender, some sort of admonishment that I didn’t quite understand. He turned back to me. “I’m sorry, Brody. This is my cousin Sam. I was telling him about my new place tonight, and I… mentioned you.”