"Put your money away, darlin'," she replied, reaching over the counter to pat my cheeks. "Enjoy your night."

Grinning, I swiped a shot glass up and quickly tossed it back. "Thanks."

"Uh-huh." Offering me a wink, she turned on her stripper heels and hurried off to serve her other customers.

"You do realize that she's a gold digger."

"Who – Janice?"

"No…" Ash drawled. "Although that trailer trash grandma is definitely one of those. But I was referring to your little side-kick."

"We are talking about the same Molly Peterson, right? You do realize that she's got more money than me – shit, more than most of our grade put together?" I shot back. "She has an inheritance that rivals Rourke's. Trust me, she's not interested in my money."

Ash rolled her eyes. "Maybe she has more money than you now, but once you're drafted, you'll be a cash freaking cow."

"Ah," I mused and tossed another shot back before saying, "but I'll never be your cash cow."

"You're making a mistake with her."

"What's your problem?" I demanded. "What the hell happened in your life to twist you into the bitter bitch standing in front of me tonight?"

"Life happened."

"Nah, girl, Britt happened," I corrected. "I've known you all of your life, remember, and you used to be nice. Before that spiteful bitch got her claws into you."

Ash reddened. "She's my best friend."

"And you're her favorite minion," I shot back. "On call to do her dirty work whenever she snaps her damn fingers at you. But Molly? She's an innocent. She doesn't deserve Britt's crap and deep down inside you know that."

She stared at me for a long moment before blurting, "Playing that song over the intercom at school wasn't my idea."

"I know," I told her, reaching for another shot. "But you didn't stop it, either. You stood back and watched her do it. You're an accomplice to her bullshit, which makes you guilty by association." Tossing back the last shooter on the tray, I grabbed the glasses of rum and cokes and stepped around her. "Stop being a bystander in your own damn life and step the hell up."

26 Daryl

As fate would have it, I ended up finding my wide-receiver without having to look for him at all.

Thank Jesus for small mercies…

"Great minds think alike," I said, colliding with Rourke in the foyer of the hotel, where he was laden down with four glasses of Jack and coke, and looking hella rattled. Raising one of my glasses to him, I swallowed deeply. "You good, man?"

"No," he bit out, voice strained. "I fucked up."

I cocked a brow. "How?"

"I called her Britt."

My brows furrowed. "You called who…" Reality dawned on me and I gaped at his stupid face. "Tell me you didn't!"

"I did."

"Let me get this straight; you called Mercedes – your current squeeze – by your former squeeze's name? The same former squeeze that's been making her life a living hell for months?"