It breaks my damn heart to tell her no, but I don’t have a choice. A photo of me at a bar with a pretty girl like her would be a huge liability, and there’s no way I could explain myself out of that if Coach caught wind of it. Besides, who knows what kind of caption this chick would place beside a photo of us? If there’s anything I’ve learned these last few years, it’s that some people seem perfectly normal at first glance when they’re anything but.
“I’m really sorry,” I say. “It’s not allowed. Thank you for being a fan though.”
Her sweet smile fades and her eyes flash dark. She doesn’t believe me, and I can’t blame her. It sounds like total bullshit.
“Screw you.” She storms off, not noticing Kai or Weston.
The pop and clink of breaking glass pulls my attention to my right, where a red-faced Kai is shouting over the music, his shirt doused in liquid and a broken martini glass at his feet.
“That fucking bitch,” he seethes.
I slide off the bar stool and make my way to where Weston is attempting to calm him down.
“Dude. Chill.” Weston grabs a towel from the bartender and hands it over. Kai dabs at his shirt, barely making a difference. Whatever he’s muttering under his breath is drowned out by the pulse of club music.
“What happened?” I ask, sensing the heavy stares of on-lookers around us.
“Apparently the blonde wasn’t feeling him,” Weston says, leaning in. “Tossed a drink in his face.”
“So who broke the glass?”
“Who do you think?” Weston huffs. “Our boy’s got to control his temper.”
“He doesn’t handle rejection well.”
“I’m going to find the blonde and apologize,” Weston says. “Do a little damage control before any of this gets out.”
I scoff. “Good luck. I’m going to get him back to the VIP lounge before he pulls any more shit.”
Thirty minutes pass with no sign of Weston. It’s just me and Kai in the VIP lounge, me nursing a frosty bottled water and him nursing a bruised ego.
“Hey, guys.” Weston appears from the other side of the rope, stepping through with a dopey grin on his face. “You’re not going to believe this, but the blonde? That’s Delilah Rosewood’s sister. They’re here.”
My heart sinks to my stomach. Never in a million years did I expect to run into them here – five hours from Gainesville – at some random bar in South Beach.
“Mind if they hang out with us for a bit?” Weston asks.
“No fucking way,” Kai grumbles and faces away.
“You were saying some pretty vulgar shit, Kai,” Weston says. “You can’t blame her for throwing a drink in your face.”
“She’s not coming in here.” Kai folds his arms, peering down his nose. “Fuck her.”
“Hey.” I smack him on the arm. “Grow the fuck up, man. Be the bigger person and let them in here. Show her you don’t care.”
Kai sits up straight, and for a moment, I think he’s coming around. Only the second Weston waves the girls in, Kai storms away, leaving the four of us alone.
“Hi.” The blonde takes a seat between Weston and me. “You must be Zane.”
“And you’re Daphne,” I say.
I glance over at Delilah who’s standing there, her arms folded at her waist and her face pinched as she studies me. I flash her a smile and hope to God I’m not showing all of my cards, but I’m actually stupid-happy to see her.
Daphne motions for her to sit down, pointing to my opposite side, but Delilah hesitates.
“We’re supposed to be having a sisters’ night out,” she says. “This wasn’t part of the plan. I don’t think she’s too thrilled about it.”
I pat the spot besides me. “You just going to stand there and stare?”
Delilah finally makes a move, plunking herself beside me as if it’s the last place she wants to be.
“What’s your problem?” I smirk.
“Seriously?” she leans in. “I can’t believe you followed us here.”
My jaw comes unhinged. “That’s the funniest fucking thing I’ve heard all night. Was about to accuse you of doing the same thing.”
“You honestly expect me to believe you just randomly picked this bar in this town five hours from home?”
“I don’t care what you believe. We didn’t follow you. Kai’s cousin owns this place. We just wanted to get out of town for a night.”
Delilah’s arms lock across her chest and she shakes her head. “Guess that’s your story, and you’re sticking to it.”