Page 18 of Red Card


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“Don’t worry, they’ll all show up at your games to cheer you on. Everyone at Prescott can’t wait to see our new bad boy in action.”

“Mmm, that sounds a bit like jealousy. Are you jealous, St. James?”

I scoff and a small puff of air slips past my lips. “Of what? Your ability to collect women like you do rugby medals? Not particularly.”

For a second he’s quiet, thick silence hanging in the air between us, and I wish I knew why my pulse was beginning to pound.

“You know, since you’re apparently God’s gift to women and can do so much better, please go find one of those girls, right now, and prove how easy it is for you.”

He lifts his water bottle to his lips and takes a pull before shrugging. “Fine. Pick one.”

I lift a brow and cock my head.

“Point her out. I bet you I can come back with her number in”—he glances down at the watch on his wrist before pulling his gaze back to mine and smirking—“two minutes.”

Two minutes?

Seems like an incredibly short amount of time, but then again, the damage I could do in two minutes is nothing short of impressive. Honestly, after seeing him inside with those girls earlier I have little doubt that he could probably get multiple girls’ numbers in that time, but now I want to call him on his bluff.

Just to see if he folds.

“Okay. Perfect. Her,” I say as I point into the living room window at a tall girl with long, curly auburn hair.

I picked the first person I saw, but he just smiles, one that reaches his eyes causing them to crinkle at the sides, and stands from the bench.

“You going to time it, or should I?”

I nod, pulling my phone out of the pocket of my joggers. “Yep. Go get ’em, big guy.”

He rolls his eyes before taking off toward the front door unhurriedly, more like a leisurely stroll. Okay, so selectively mute, grumpy butthole also has an overly inflated ego. Totally surprising.

Not.

I watch through the window as he strides into the house and walks directly over to the girl. He leans in, murmuring something in her ear, and her eyes widen slightly before she nods and then dips her head to his ear, whispering something in return.

A second later, he pulls out his phone and she quickly types something in it before he turns and walks away without another word.

My God, he didn’t evensmileat her. He just… did that broody, smoldering thing he does with his eyes, and she basically threw it at him.

When I glance down at my phone there’s still thirty seconds left on the timer, and I have to admit, I’m impressed… slightly.

A little.

“See?” he says when he walks back up the gazebo steps toward me. He turns his phone and shows me the screen with a number and the name Larissa. “Do I get bonus points since she offered to let me fuck her in the bathroom?”

“Smooth. Tell me, how did you manage that when you’re such a dickhead?”

He shrugs, pocketing his phone and taking his seat again. His expression is bored as he gazes at me, his eyes dark and stormy in the dim light of the gazebo. “They don’t have to like me for me to make them come, St. James.”

I can feel my cheeks heat at the crudeness of his words, but I shake my head, rolling my eyes with a dry laugh. “Whatever. You win. You get a trophy. God, I just don’t understand how it’s so effortless for you.”

He grunts a response but otherwise remains silent.

Perfect, we’re back to grunting as communication. Just the way I like it.

I wish I could flirt, and be sexy, and confident to guys like this. Any guy really. I wish I could walk up to a guy that I thought was attractive and have a conversation without making a fool of myself… or worse, immediately being friend-zoned.

Tonight was the prime example. So much for taking Fitz’s advice.