Lucky Number Eleven

Chapter Three

Chapter 3

Layla

"You're right, Layla. I'm going to love it here."

"Shut up," I hiss, trying desperately to take my eyes off the chiseled, sweaty man standing in the middle of my lawn next to my brother. "Who the hell is that?"

"That would be your hottie brother. And, damn, girl, he looks even better in the off-season when he's not quite so leaned out. That ass . . ."

"Not Finn," I groan, leaning forward to get a better glimpse as Mystery Man moves, the sun ricocheting off his drenched body. "Who is with him?"

"I don't know his name, but he looks like a damn good time."

They look our way and I slump back in my seat. "These windows are tinted, right?"

"If not, I'm fairly certain we aren't making a great impression," she laughs. "I'm assuming Finn isn't expecting us?"

My head bobs side-to-side as I watch Finn's friend. A pair of bright blue mesh shorts riding low on his hips, his thick, muscled body widening as my gaze travels up to his shoulders.

Finn says something to him that makes him throw the football he's holding towards my brother. He laughs, and although I can't hear the sound, it makes me smile too.

"You're fucked."

"Yes, please." Clearing my throat, I try to thrust my way back to reality. "Okay. Enough. We are all adults here."

"Which is why we need to stop gawking at their ridiculous bodies and imagining what their sweat tastes like and—"

"Really, Poppy?"

She laughs, picking her sunglasses up from the middle console. "You were thinking it."

"Here's the thing," I say, feeling some sense come back to me, "whoever that is was brought here by my brother. Between that and the way his body screams athlete, that means one thing."

"That his sex appeal is off the charts? Because I concur. If that man wants to give me babies, I'll take them."

I flip her a look. "It means that he's trouble. A football player. The kind of guy you just told me I need to stay away from."

"You do. Doesn't mean I do," she says, putting on her glasses and stepping out of the car.

"Damn you, Poppy." Heaving a deep breath, I open my door and step into the warm afternoon air. "Hey, Finn!"

My voice is a little wobblier than I'd prefer and my gaze a little too weighted on my sibling, but I can't look past him. My peripheral vision is catching enough movement to keep me feeling like I'm being swamped by the waves of Lake Michigan.

"What are you doing here?" Finn comes my way, his grin stretched ear-to-ear as he tosses the ball back to his friend. "I didn't know you were coming up."

"Last-minute decision," I say, tucking a strand of my sandy blonde hair behind my ear. "Didn't know you were headed this way either."

"Branch and I thought we'd get away for a few days before the pre-season starts." He looks away from me and his features darken just a bit. "Hey, Poppy Quinn."

"Hey, Finn Miller," she flirts. "Good to see you."

"I don't know how it gets any better than seeing you."

"Always a charmer," she smiles. "So, this is Branch Best, huh?"

"That's me."

His voice is more Southern than I expected, which only adds another cinder block to my already sinking mental capacity. The honeyed twang that's just barely detectable is enough to make my knees threaten to give out.

His eyes fall on mine, the pools of blue twinkling in the light. The corners of his lips tug up into a sexy, playful grin. One thickly-veined arm extends in front of Finn as he reaches towards me. "I'm Branch Best. And you are?"

"My sister," Finn warns, knocking his hand away. "No touching, Best."

"It's a handshake!"

"It starts with a handshake with you," Finn explains. "Or a spilled drink. Or an exchange of insurance information . . ."

"She ran into me."

"Maybe to start. But I'm pretty sure I walked in on you running right into her."

Poppy and I laugh as Branch sticks a football in Finn's stomach, making him bend over long enough for Branch to extend a hand to me again and flip me the most adorable smile I've ever seen. "Branch Best. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Before I can think twice, I slip my palm into his. On contact, I jump and instinctively pull away, but he clasps down onto my hand with his large, calloused fingers. He grins again. "Do you have a name, Finn's sister?"

"Layla. Layla James," I say. Gulping a breath to steady myself from the warmth radiating off him, I get a lungful of . . . sex. Or that's what it screams at Defcon One to my brain, anyway. It's a scent that pulls me towards him, makes me want to climb his slippery, impressive body like a tree. "Nice to meet you," I say, still sorting the heated, spiced scent through my senses.

He does me a giant favor and releases my hand. "Are you guys staying here this weekend?"

"We were going to," I say, looking at Finn. "Are you?"

"Yeah."

"It'll be one giant sleepover," Branch winks, getting an elbow in the side from my brother.

"One question," Poppy interjects, looking at Branch. "What position are you?"

"I typically like the bottom so I can watch—oomph," he says, getting another elbow from Finn. "Wide receiver. Why?"

Looking at Poppy, I can't help but laugh as her eyes light up.

"You got a problem with wide receivers?" Branch asks.

"You do," Finn interjects, giving me a narrowed glare. "They aren't any better than quarterbacks."

Branch looks from me, to Finn, and back to me. "Why do we not like quarterbacks?"

"My sister was dating Callum Worthington."

"No shit?" His face puckers like he just bit into a lemon. "How in the hell did that cocksucker end up with you?"

"He didn't. We're not together anymore."

Branch's eyes heat, the look causing my pulse to quicken. "I'm not a bit sorry to hear that."

"You better forget you heard any of that," Finn warns. "This is my sister, Branch. Not a cheerleader or reporter or some chick from a dating app. Got it?"

"Finn, relax," I say, shoving a swallow past the lump in my throat. "I appreciate the big brother spiel, but I can handle myself."

"I know you can," he says, pulling his gaze away from Branch. "But you can't handle him."