Perfect Score (Easton U Pirates 3)

“I might need a foot rub tonight,” he said with a sweet smile. He reached up to swipe a strand of my hair back from my forehead. “I gotta get to the rehearsal.”

I waited outside the grand ballroom with the other guests while the wedding party met the minister and practiced the nuptials.

“How was Dawson?” I asked as we trekked to the restaurant with a few of the other attendees.

“Ignored me as usual.” He shrugged. “Even though I had to stand next to him.”

And speaking of the devil, when we got there, Dawson was already seated at the long table beside an attractive woman, no doubt his date this weekend—probably the date he mentioned blatantly at the tux fitting. He introduced her to people around him, including the bride and groom, and unless I was mistaken, Ryan had never met her before, which was very curious. She seemed nice, and Dawson was certainly trying hard to keep her entertained, his arm around her shoulder and making her laugh while constantly looking our way as if to see what we were up to. The server took our drink orders as people talked across the table with each other. We mostly listened and grinned at a story Kate was telling her bridesmaids about Ryan.

“I’ve been thinking about this,” I said to Morgan once we ordered our food. “Maybe Dawson’s bi or pan and just doesn’t know what to do with that.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He gave Dawson a quick, sidelong glance. “Or maybe he kissed me and decided he was so not into guys.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed, thrusting our kiss from the other night out of my thoughts so that I didn’t sport a semi in front of his family.

“I know. I’m being stupid.” Morgan sighed. “I’m just glad he wasn’t my first kiss.”

I pursed my lips, trying to think of guys he dated in high school. “He wasn’t?”

His elbow connected with my waist. “No, dummy, you were.”

My hand briefly covered my mouth. “Holy shit, I never thought about it that way.”

Morgan frowned. “I’m hurt that you don’t consider our horrible, sloppy kiss as your first too.”

“You jackass. Now that you mention it, I absolutely do.” I leaned toward his ear. “And you want to know what I remember most?”

“What?” He dipped his head in this endearing way as if afraid to meet my eyes.

“How warm and sweet and reassuring it was, knowing it was you.”

“Like a puppy!” he teased.

When we burst into laughter, Mrs. Miller threw us an amused look. The server came around and delivered our drinks, and there were toasts from both sets of parents that made Kate tear up.

“Obviously, I’m much better at it now,” I said and took a hearty sip of my beer. “The kissing, I mean.”

Morgan arched an eyebrow. “Same. Obviously.” Our eyes connected, and there it was, that spark between us, that something more, which I supposed had always been there, brimming below the surface. It made me want to kiss him, and as if reading my mind—which a lot of the time I was pretty sure he could—Morgan shook his head. “Don’t you dare. You would shock everyone at this table.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“I obviously know all your thoughts,” he said, poking my chest with his finger.

“No, you don’t,” I countered. And especially not lately.

“I absolutely do.”

“Are you two going to keep arguing or pass me the rolls?” Mr. Miller asked, and Mrs. Miller grinned, then winked at us. We’d been so immersed in our conversation, we hadn’t even noticed that the salads and bread had been served.

“We’re not arguing,” Morgan replied, lifting the bread basket and passing it to his father.

“Okay, quibbling like an old, married couple,” he said with a smirk.

“Hey now.” Mrs. Miller elbowed him playfully.

Ryan and Kate locked eyes and smiled, and Kate said, “Is that going to be us someday?”

“Sure hope so,” Ryan replied and kissed her cheek.

“Okay, gag,” Morgan said, and Kate laughed.

“I can’t wait to rub this conversation in your face someday,” Ryan replied.

I could feel Dawson’s hot stare, and as soon I looked over, he leaned toward his date and whispered something in her ear that made her blush. It was so clearly fake that I wanted to call him on it. But I also sort of felt sorry for him, especially if he couldn’t be his true self. I was still angry, though, about the way he’d treated Morgan and that he couldn’t make amends as an adult.

Feeling protective all over again, I lifted my arm and positioned it behind Morgan’s chair.

“What are you doing?” he asked when my fingers brushed his shoulder.

“Practicing.”

“He has a date, so it’s all cool.”

“Oh, okay, if it’s all cool, I can just pick up my regular shift at Melt tomorrow and—”

His eyes grew panicked. “You wouldn’t dare.”