Dirty Toe Drag (Nashville Assassins Next Generation 6)
“Yeah, porn would totally take you.”
His laughter fills my car as I grin widely. “Oh, I know it would. But thankfully, I don’t plan on getting hurt. Though, I should get some schooling. Maybe you can tutor me.”
“Sorry, I have enough jobs, and you’d be the worst student.”
He scoffs. “I would not.”
“Yes, you’re too handsy.”
“I am doing great right now.”
“Because we’re friends,” I remind him, and he snorts.
“Okay. And if you were my teacher, we wouldn’t be friends?”
“Nope. I’d be your teacher,” I say as evenly as I can. He’s making me completely hot. All I see in my head is some dirty teacher-student porn, and it’s just raunchy. How am I going to make it through tonight?
“Okay, whatever. I’d pay you more.”
“Ha! You can’t afford me,” I decide, and he chuckles loudly.
“Obviously no one can since you work all the time.”
“Oh, I don’t have to. My parents don’t make me work. I work for myself.”
“That’s amicable.”
“It’s not. I just really like money.”
He laughs. “Touché.” Ugh, I hate that I’m grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t you usually close?”
“I do, but I asked for tonight off to go to this party.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Yeah, if I don’t go, Lake will be pissed, and I don’t want to hear his mouth.”
“Is Lake a boyfriend guy?”
I laugh. “Not at all. He’s my very gay buddy.”
“Oh, the guy in your stories?”
“Yes, stalker,” I tease, and he seems a little embarrassed but not much. “We’ve been friends since I started school.”
“Awesome. He seems like a good time.”
“He is, so much fun,” I say happily, though guilt eats at me. I don’t know if he’ll be so much fun after I find my balls and go after my real dreams. “He’s a mess.” Wes doesn’t say anything to that, so I ask, “So, do you wanna talk about your day?”
“Eh, it was a day.”
I side-eye him. “What’s that mean?”
“Just a lot going on,” he says slowly, and I feel his gaze on my face. “You know about our coach and our goalie.”
I nod sadly. “I’m sorry. Peca is such a sweet guy.”
“Yeah. Just a lot of change.”
“I hate change,” I admit, more so than anyone knows. I don’t know if it’s the change that scares me away from chasing my dreams or if it’s disappointing my parents.
“Me too,” he says softly. “It seems like the hits keep coming.”
“I don’t think we’re talking about your face.”
He smiles ruefully. “Not at all. That was deserved.”
“I saw you talking shit.”
He chuckles. “I do it best.”
“So I hear,” I supply as I turn onto the interstate to head out of the city. “Are you in pain?”
“A little,” he admits. “But nothing I can’t handle.”
“Is that why you look like a beat dog?”
“Man, you don’t hold back. A beat dog?”
“You do! That’s why I invited you out with me. I felt bad for you.”
“Whatever. You invited me out because you want a hot, sexy man beside you at your party. Show me off to your friends.”
I snort. “You’re delusional, my friend.”
“Am I?”
“Completely,” I say with a grin.
Truth is, he isn’t wrong at all.
Not even a smidge.
* * *
“You’re good on the ice,” I say, tossing a bag in my hand. “So, please tell me you’re good at cornhole.”
Wes gives me a highly annoyed look. “I am good at everything.”
“Okay,” I draw out, shaking my head. “Don’t let me down. I never have a good partner.”
“Oh, don’t you worry, girl. I’m about to show you I’m an unbelievable partner,” he says, and I know that statement is extremely heavy with suggestion.
I ignore him, shooing him away as I see Lake coming. “Yeah, yeah. Go.”
Wes winks at me, and my stomach flips. Jesus. We haven’t been here long. The ride over was easy, small talk and lots of laughing. He wouldn’t tell me why he was upset, but I don’t think he is thinking about that anymore. He seems in good spirits and has enjoyed hanging with my friends. Of course, everyone asked what happened to his face, and as soon as he said he got into a fight at a game and it got out that he was a hockey player, everyone was gushing over me. If I had to say that we’re just friends one more time, I was going to scream.
But I did enjoy the attention from him. Not from everyone else.
He hasn’t left my side all night. We played a round of beer pong and then flip cup before heading outside for cornhole. It’s been a blast, and I’m so glad I brought him. He hasn’t stopped smiling, and he no longer looks like a beat dog. Problem is, every second that passes only makes me want to jump his bones even more. I should get an award for my restraint.
I glance up to see Lake walking out of the house, and I groan loudly at his grin that covers his whole face. He’s wearing a yellow bodysuit with biker shorts and a yellow wig. He’s so over the top, and I utterly love it. But I know for a fact that I’m not going to like what he is about to say.