Tori snorted.
Holley took over. “We’ve worked hard to match you with a date based on the forms you filled out—”
“I didn’t fill out a form,” I grumbled. “I don’t have to do this because of that, right?”
“Shut up, Saylor,” Kinsley retorted.
Everyone laughed.
Assholes.
“Anyway,” Holley said, glancing at me with a look that would kill me if I were a lesser woman. “The guys are already inside and seated at a table with a number on. You’ll be given a ticket with your number in a second, so you just go on in and find your table.”
This was stupid.
So stupid.
“This is stupid,” Tori muttered in my ear.
“Mhmm,” I responded, taking the piece of paper that was shoved at me by Holley. Table thirteen.
Great.
This was already off to a good start, wasn’t it?
That was the table number everyone wanted. Ugh.
I unzipped my coat since it was much warmer in here and stepped into the bar. It was strangely quiet without the humdrum of people, and there was no way this place would have been shut down if it weren’t owned by Hollie’s parents.
“Colton? Are you kidding me?” Tori hissed from behind me.
I glanced at the number she was holding. It was table five, and a quick look up confirmed it. Colton was sitting at table five, looking about as amused as Tori was.
“Well, that’s got Kinsley written all over it,” I mused. “Colton. Ha!”
She snatched my number and looked, then got on her tiptoes and peered around the room. Her lips curled to one side as she handed it back. “Don’t gloat yet. Have you seen your date?”
I scanned the bar for the table with the number thirteen on. I caught Dylan’s eye on the way, and he smiled.
I didn’t smile.
I froze.
He was sitting at table thirteen.
Motherfucker.
CHAPTER FOUR – DYLAN
RULE FOUR: ALWAYS SMILE. EVEN WHEN YOU WANT TO PUNCH YOURSELF IN THE FACE.
This was fucking stupid.
I couldn’t believe I’d been talked into this—that I’d let Colton convince me to do this with him. He said he was only doing it for his sister, Kinsley, but he didn’t want to do it alone.
Since he and I were the only single guys in the group, I hadn’t had a choice.
Granted, I wasn’t as against this shit as Saylor was, but I also didn’t feel like dating. I was still settling into life in White Peak. It’d only been three months since I’d moved here, and I wasn’t ready to get myself into a relationship when I honestly didn’t know how long I’d stay here.
I’d only been hired by the Montana Bears to be Seb’s personal trainer while he was recovering. If he wasn’t able to play again, there was no telling what I’d do.
I wasn’t sure this tiny mountain town had a lot of business for a personal trainer. There wasn’t even a gym here. I had to go to the nearest town twenty minutes away if I wanted to work out alone.
I stretched my arms out in front of me and cracked my knuckles. This night was going to be a bloody nightmare, and I was not looking forward to it at all. I knew exactly how it would go.
I’d be asked about my accent, then inevitably, I would be asked whether or not I knew Queen Elizabeth.
I did not, in fact, know the queen.
Nor did I know anyone who knew the queen.
It was a question I would be happy to never hear again.
I sat back in the chair and looked up as the door to the bar opened. The other half of tonight’s poor sods were guided in, all holding a piece of paper in their hands. I knew every one corresponded to the numbers on our table, and my stomach tightened as I waited to see who would head in my direction.
Saylor and Tori were easy to spot—you could hardly miss Saylor with her pink hair, after all—and I watched in amusement as Tori’s expression soured. She’d looked in Colton’s direction, and I silently laughed.
I’d put money on Kinsley having a hand in that one.
My laughter was short lived, however.
Tori’s gaze cast across the room, and a smirk pulled across her face as she said something in Saylor’s ear. Saylor visibly froze and looked in my direction, then down at her card, and back up at me.
No.
No way.
She mouthed something that looked awfully like, “Motherfucker,” and my worst fears came true.
She headed in my direction.
Now, don’t think I was mad about this. I wasn’t; not angry, per se. I enjoyed Saylor’s company a lot, but the last thing I needed was to have an actual dinner date with her.
My roommate.
Whom I happened to be very much attracted to.
It was a daily effort to keep that to myself, and when she’d yanked her sweater off yesterday morning after crashing my morning cup of tea, I’d almost thrown her on the kitchen island and given her a real reason to have her boobs popping out of her top.
So, yeah.
This was not something I needed tonight.
And here I was, chuckling at Tori and Colton.
This was fucking karma.
“Well, hello,” Saylor said, sauntering up to the table. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” she added as if she hadn’t thrown out my fresh cup of tea this morning because she’d thought it was ‘cold.’
I stood and walked around the table, holding out my hand. “Dylan Parker. And you are?”
Her lips twitched as she put her hand in mine. “Saylor Green. It’s a pleasure.”
I brought her hand to my lips and kissed the back of her fingers, then winked. Her cheeks flushed a light pink, but I pretended not to notice. Instead, I moved to pull her chair out for her and help her with her coat.
She might have mouthed motherfucker when she realized I was her date, but that was my exact reaction when I saw what she was wearing.
Her dress was black with long sleeves and bloody skin-tight. It hugged every goddamn inch of her body, and there was a little cut out on her chest that offered just the hint of the cleavage I knew for a fact lay under that fabric.
This was not off to a good start.
I pulled out her chair so she could sit down, then took my seat again.
“So, Dylan, do you come here often?” she asked with the raise of an eyebrow as she picked up the limited menu that was in place for tonight.
I ran my tongue over my lips. “Really? We’re going to keep this up?”
“Keep what up? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her eyes glittered over the top of the menu, and there was a moment where I thought she was grinning, but she quickly whipped the card up so I couldn’t see for sure.
“Often enough,” I said, playing along, using my own menu to hide my amusement. “What about you? Are you local?”
“Born and raised,” she said brightly. “Now that you say it, you do look familiar.”
“Ah. That’ll be because you tipped my hot cup of tea down the sink this morning, sweetheart.”
Laughter exploded out of her, and she clapped her hand over her mouth to quiet it. I wished she wouldn’t—her over-the-top laugh was one of the best things about her—but I understood why she did.
God forbid she let Kinsley and Holley see we were having fun.