Twisted Collide: The new sports romance in the Redville Saints series
Twisted Collide: Chapter 53

A few days after our lunch, I’m pleasantly surprised by Molly’s invitation to join her for drinks tonight.

I glance around the bar, a nervous energy coursing through my veins. My heart races a mile a minute, and I’m not sure why.

Okay, that’s a lie. I know why.

I just don’t want to admit it to myself.

Dane.

He’ll be here soon.

Not that it matters since he won’t even speak to me when he’s here, but just having him in the vicinity makes me jittery.

Maybe I’ll be able to lure him away, sneak into the bathroom, and have my wicked way with him.

Looking around the bar, I spot the team. Hudson turns, and the moment he sees me, he waves.

I make my way through the crowd, and with each step I take, I search for Dane. Finally, as the crowd parts, there he is.

He doesn’t see me at first, but then he tilts his chin up, and our gazes meet.

His features look tight, and his stare is unsettling, but then what looks like a small smile lines his face.

A rush of warmth fills my veins, and I’m sure my cheeks are crimson.

How does this man do this to me?

One look, and I’m a puddle on the ground.

When I reach the table, he turns to face Hudson, and my heart feels like it was stabbed with a serrated knife.

“How’s my favorite intern?” Hudson teases, and a small, slender hand flicks his shoulder.

“Don’t flirt with her. Not unless you want Coach to know, and you get benched or, worse, traded . . .” Molly says. I can’t see her face, but since I’ve been spending time with her recently, I’d recognize the voice anywhere. “Actually—keep flirting.” She leans forward until she’s visible. “Sorry, Josie, but can you take one for the team? Hudson’s a menace.”

“Sure.” I shrug. “Flirt away.”

“Not nice, princess. I’m wounded.” He raises his hands in mock defeat.

“Her name is Josephine.” There’s no mistaking the rough and gravelly voice. Dane isn’t happy, not that he ever is.

“Jeez. You’re even more of an asshole tonight than ever. What’s up your ass?”

“Nothing. Just not in the mood for your shit tonight.”

“Touchy. At least Molly—”

“Molly? Nothing,” Molly chides. She stands up from her seat and heads in my direction, pulling out the chair directly beside me.

“With all this testosterone in the air, I figured us girls should stick together.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Thank God, because it was either you or Laurie.”

“Laurie isn’t that bad.”

“She isn’t good, though.”

I laugh because her assessment is spot-on.

It takes me a minute to get into the conversation. I’m pretty lost, seeing as I showed up late, but I try my best to mingle in a way that’s not obvious.

Mason eventually returns to the table with a pitcher of beer, and I pour myself a glass. Unfortunately, when I do, a little dribbles out of the pitcher and gets on the table and my hand. I see a pile of napkins that I reach for, and when I do, I notice I’m not the only one who went for them.

Dane’s fingers brush against mine. And although I know it was an accident, he lingers there. The moment stands still, voices fade away, and all that is in that room is him, and it feels like jolts of energy course through me as our skin touches.

“Sorry.” Dane pulls away, and I want to beg him not to leave, but I really don’t have a choice.

“It’s fine,” I respond, my chest pounding.

The touch is brief, but the effects linger. My face is warm and flushed.

This man does crazy things to me.

Dane moves to separate from me, and when he does, I get a clear shot of Molly.

She’s looking right at us. Her eyes narrow, and her jaw clenches.

Shit. What did she see?

Does she know?

And if she does, what will she do with the information?