Wright Rival (Wright)

“Oh. My. God,” a voice squealed. “Hollin?”

I glanced up at the unfamiliar voice. A petite blonde stared up at me with bright blue eyes and a sizable rack spilling out of some frilly pink dress. She looked vaguely familiar. Emily? Emma? Emmie? Fuck.

“Hey,” I said with a charming smile. “Can I help you?”

She strode forward two steps in white booties that Julian had claimed were in right now. Whatever that meant. He was the fashion guy.

“It’s Emily.”

Ha! I’d been right the first time.

She waited for a response to that, but I didn’t give one. “Remember, we went on a few dates in January? You said you’d call…”

“Right,” I said, rubbing my hand on the back of my head. I didn’t always remember the girls I had gone on dates with two months prior. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s totally okay. It’s good to see you. I came with a few girlfriends who love the winery.”

“Glad they like it.”

“So…” She bit her lip and looked down, trying to be suggestive.

I remembered that about her now. That she’d been really into biting her lip. As if it was the only seduction tactic she’d picked up. Her big tits and blonde hair and heart-shaped face usually got her whatever she wanted.

We’d gone on three dates, hooked up, and then I’d given up. As I so often did. Most girls like Emily couldn’t keep my attention for that long. I’d given her the benefit of the doubt for a third date based on her rack alone.

“So?” I prompted.

“Well, do you want to meet up again?”

Julian barely suppressed a laugh next to me. I shot him a look. He already knew my motto with things. It wasn’t that I had a three date rule exactly. I just got bored so easily, and I wasn’t interested in anything serious. I hadn’t been interested in that in a long fucking time. Most girls weren’t relationship material anyway. They weren’t for me at least. I was down with fucking around for longer than that. But I wasn’t a feelings guy.

My dipshit friends called it my three-date rule. But that made it seem like I was looking for a relationship. Like I was giving up on girls because I hadn’t found the one. When the opposite was true. I had no interest in finding the one, and I was pretty sure that person didn’t even exist.

Yeah, Jordan and Julian had each found their person, but they’d gone through a whole hell of a lot of shit to get there. I wasn’t willing to invest that much into anyone but myself. Sure, it made me look like a dick, but I wasn’t leading anyone on. People knew who I was upfront. Was it my fault if they wanted to change me?

“Thanks for the offer, Emily, but I’m going to pass.”

Her cheeks reddened. “Oh. You’re going to pass?”

“Yeah.”

She gulped and her head swiveled to her friends. They waved her back over, and she bit her fucking lip again. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“I, um…okay.”

“Could you have an ounce of sympathy?” Annie said with an eye roll as the poor girl scurried back to her friends.

“What? She knew when we tried that in January that I wasn’t Mr. Relationship,” I said to Annie.

“Yeah, but do you know how hard it is for a girl to ask a guy out?”

“And so I’m obligated to say yes when she asks?”

“No,” Annie said, smacking my arm. “But you could let her down easy.”

Jordan held his hand out to his fiancée, and she stepped into his embrace. “Listen to the doctor. She knows what she’s talking about.”

“I said thanks for the offer,” I said with a shrug.

“It’s a waste of time,” Piper chimed in.

My gaze found her. “And why is that?”

“Because you’re tactless. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

I grinned, taking a step forward, ready to lay back into her, but Julian smacked me in the chest. “Do not say whatever just came to your mind.”

I shot my friend a look and laughed. “What was I going to say?”

“Something obscene,” he guessed.

True. I was about to tell her that I could teach her new tricks. If she’d just let me instead of always mouthing off. Who the fuck was I kidding? I’d teach her new tricks while she mouthed off, and I’d enjoy all of it.

She must have seen all of that cross my face in a split second because she suddenly stood. Her chair knocked backward, scraping against the hardwood. “It’s time for me to head out. As much fun as it is to watch Hollin three-date-rule some poor girl and not get to drink at a winery, I have to work in the morning.”

Bradley rose to his feet as well. He hadn’t touched his wine out of solidarity, apparently. He set it down on the table we were all sitting around and dusted his hands off on his cargo pants. “Y’all have a good night.”