Just a Little Crush(13)

“Hi.” She smiled and stuck out her hand. “I’m Cassidy.”

I wanted to hate her because she’d probably have Ryder’s tongue in her mouth later too, but she was nice.

“Brinley. Nice to meet you.”

“Cheese or pepperoni?” Noah called from the kitchen.

“Cheese.”

Cassidy and I sat at the small four-person table tucked between the living room and kitchen, while the guys ate sitting on the couch.

She made small talk, and I halfheartedly listened while trying to overhear what the guys were saying.

It was hard to make out most of it, but Ryder said something to Noah, who laughed in response.

“Works for me, man.” Noah wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge and started passing out beer cans.

Ryder’s gaze flicked to me and I looked away. “Drinking game time,” he announced.

Cassidy made a little hooting sound as she pumped her fist.

“I don’t really drink.” God, that sounded lame.

“Don’t worry. If you’re good at it, you won’t be drinking much.” Ryder’s smirk looked teasing but something about his green eyes conveyed sincerity.

“I don’t know how to play any drinking games,” I added.

“You’ll do fine,” he assured me.

I looked at him and he nodded once quickly, like he could guarantee it.

Wish he could. I’d have to find an excuse to leave early and avoid making an ass of myself.

The guys joined us at the table.

My phone chimed.

Fallon: U alive?

It had been closer to thirty minutes. Thankfully, I wasn’t hogtied in a trunk somewhere.

Me: Yeah, thanks.

Ryder’s gaze burned into me as I’d typed a response. Maybe he thought it was rude to text when hanging out with other people. Which it kind of was, but everyone did it. He probably texted on dates. Ugh. Why did I care what he did on dates?

Fallon: Tell your little boy toy I’m going to fuck his brains out.

Disgusted, I rolled my eyes.

Ryder slouched back in his chair and strummed his fingers on the table. “Ready?”

I slid my phone into my pocket and nodded. “How do I play?”

Noah twirled a quarter between two fingers. “You take this quarter and bounce it off the table. Your goal is to get it into the shot glass. You miss, you drink. You land it, you choose someone else to drink.”

He demonstrated. The quarter bounced from the table, tapped the edge of the shot glass then teetered out.

“Drink,” Cassidy ordered with a laugh. “My turn.” She missed, cursed and took a drink.

Ryder grabbed the quarter and, with a ridiculous amount of ease, dunked the coin into the shot glass. “Drink up, Cassidy.”

With a flirtatious grin, she took a swig then licked her lips slowly. If he was trying to get her drunk in order to get lucky, he was wasting his time. She looked ready to pounce into his lap.

I fished the quarter out of the cup. Noah had tossed it too hard. Cassidy had just flung it, but Ryder had held it flat and aimed about two inches in front of the glass. I mimicked what he’d done as best I could. It tapped against the front of the glass but didn’t make it in.

“Drink,” Noah said with a grin.

We went through another round with the same results except Ryder made Noah drink this time. On our third round, Ryder made eye contact with me prior to his toss. He lifted the quarter, demonstrating where he placed his fingers, and tossed it. It landed in with ease.

“Noah,” he said as he pulled out the quarter. He slid it toward me, a few inches in front of the glass. With his finger, he tapped the quarter and nodded.

I glanced at Noah as he walked to the fridge to fetch Cassidy and himself another beer. They hadn’t noticed what Ryder had done.

With the coin between two fingers, I aimed for the spot he’d pointed out. The quarter bounced, flipped twice, then landed perfectly in the shot glass.

“I did it!”

Ryder leaned back with an approving smile. “Pick someone to drink.”

“Oh, yeah. Um, Noah.”

As we played, Ryder continued to land them in and assign the drinking to Cassidy and Noah. I missed only a few of my shots. Occasionally the other two would get one in, but for the most part I was spared from drinking since they seemed to want to get back at Ryder. My beer had grown warm as Noah and Cassidy started on their fifth or sixth beer each.

I excused myself and went to the bathroom. When I stepped out, Ryder was there.

“Cassidy wants to play I never. I’m assuming you won’t have to drink much, but if I’m wrong, and I hope I’m not, just pretend to drink. At this point they won’t notice.”

He took off, leaving me completely baffled. When I sat, Cassidy laughed at something Ryder had said.