False Start (Eastshore Tigers Book 2) by Alison Hendricks Read Free Book Online

get some acknowledgments, but the only one who really looks at me is Mills.
    “Thanks for the drink.”
    He nods, and I see the barest hint of a smile touch his lips. “No problem.”
    As I leave the bar and head to the parking lot I feel more at ease than I have in a long while; like a young kid who’s just made friends after his first day at school. It’s ridiculous, I know. But considering my track record—and the fact that a lot of my friends in Connecticut were just friends with me for my connections—I feel like it’s a good start.

8
    Dante
    I don’t want to hate Erickson.
    If I’m real about it, I don’t really hate him at all. If he wasn’t a good player—if he wasn’t standing between me and a starting position—I think we’d get on real well. But there’s something more than that. He makes me feel a little unsettled, and it isn’t just what happened in the locker room.
    I have to tell myself I’m probably being stupid, though. Outside of Jason and Derek, I don’t have a lot of real friends. I can shoot the shit with the guys, but none of them know what I’m really like.
    Maybe I’m shooting myself in the foot by not giving Erickson a chance. As the other guys crowd around Erica for a picture, I stare at what’s left of my beer and try to figure out if I’ve been unfair. I already know the answer’s probably yes, I’m just not sure what I want to do about it.
    Inviting him here was a gesture of goodwill, right? Maybe he doesn’t think I hate him anymore, but as often as he looked at me tonight with uncertainty in his eyes, I’m guessing I’m still coming across as the brute who just wants to chew him up and spit him out.
    I should let myself be okay with that. It’s not like I need every guy on the team to like me, and it’s probably easier if a guy I’m competing with doesn’t. But there’s something about Erickson that gets under my skin. The way he smiles. The way he interacts with people. It all seems too eager; like he’s honestly trying to make sure everybody likes him.
    “All right, it’s a quarter past two. Finish up your drinks and get the hell out,” Ben, the owner of The Top says from behind the bar.
    There’s some good-natured groaning, followed by the sound of a bunch of already half-drunk guys slamming back what’s left in their glasses. I just take another sip of mine, the beer long since warming to a temperature that makes it damn near impossible to enjoy.
    Best to just close out my tab now and be done with it.
    Grabbing my wallet, I start up toward the bar.
    “Hey Mills, buy my drink too, will ya?” Trent says.
    “Sure thing, asshole,” I say, though there isn’t any hint of anger or even annoyance in it.
    I’ve run Trent to the ground enough times that there isn’t really anything but camaraderie between us. That’s the way it is with most of the guys. We give each other shit, but in the end, we’re still a team. I don’t know why I can’t seem to treat Erickson that way.
    I reach the bar and hand over my card, looking back to the tables we pushed together. There are four empty glasses in front of Trent, and he’s working on a fifth. I wince. He must’ve pulled the short straw to end up as the designated “finisher.” At least his place is in stumbling distance.
    “Tab’s already paid for,” Ben says, handing me back my card.
    “You sure you got the right one?”
    He lifts a brow at me. Good point. I’ve been coming here with the guys since my freshman year. Even a little bit before that, when I first started to get recruited in high school. Ben knows who I am. He wouldn’t mistake my tab for someone else’s.
    “Well who the hell paid it?”
    “An anonymous benefactor,” he says, contorting his voice to be a lot more formal than usual. He gives me a grin that spoils the illusion, but I don’t grin back.
    My mind immediately goes back to Erickson. It’s done that a lot tonight, but this time I’m thinking of one moment in particular