Outmatched - Kristen Callihan Page 0,55

as he pulled a chair next to the table. “My brother’s wicked smart,” he said, straddling the chair and sipping his beer.

“We knew the answer,” Navin said, his geek pride rearing its competitive head.

Dean shrugged. “Six brains are better than four.”

“Six?” Ren shot Rhys an incredulous look, and while Rhys might have looked through my friend like his words meant nothing, anger suffused me.

I slammed my foot down on Ren’s under the table. I was still wearing my heels from work, so that had to hurt.

“Fuck!” Ren bit out. “What the hell was that?”

I gave him my most disappointed look, and he had the grace to appear ashamed. With a grimace and a sigh, he turned his attention toward Bill. His next lot of questions, we answered easily, while Rhys watched on with a bland expression I couldn’t decipher. Was he bored? Irritated? Indifferent. He was puzzling and distracting.

Why did I care so much?

“Last question,” Bill finally said. “Which animal does not drink water?”

We all looked at each other.

“Camel?” Elijah asked.

“I think they can survive a long time without water, but they still need it,” Dean said.

“It’s a kangaroo rat,” Rhys said, voice quiet so teams nearby wouldn’t hear.

“I’ve never heard of it,” Navin said, scowling.

“Probably because it’s made up,” Ren huffed.

“Write it down,” I said.

Ren nudged me. “What? No.”

Oh boy, he was really ticking me off. “If Rhys says it’s a kangaroo rat, it’s a kangaroo rat. Write it down.”

“Whatever,” my friend muttered.

I practically growled at him. He knew using the word whatever in that manner was a pet peeve. It was a word for petulant teenagers, not for adults. It made adults sound like immature morons.

“Okay, you all got your answers done?” Bill asked as he approached our table. “Hand ’em over. Sorry they were so fucking hard. I think Della must’ve googled a quiz from the fucking MIT website.”

Navin handed over the bit of paper and Bill scanned it. “Hey, looks like you guys might win.” He frowned down at it. “How the fuck did you know it was a kangaroo rat? I hadn’t even heard of that shit.”

A smug smile spread across my face as Ren turned to me with a sheepishly apologetic look. I turned to Rhys, who wasn’t smiling until he caught my expression. His eyes glittered with amusement as he took a swig of beer; I felt an unwelcome flutter of attraction in my belly.

Elijah pointed to Rhys. “Apparently this guy has.”

“Rhys, didn’t even see you there.” Bill grinned as he came around the table to clap a hand on Rhys’s shoulder. “How’s it going? You haven’t been by in a while.”

“Been busy, Bill. How’s you and Della?”

I studied Rhys as he talked to Bill, my eyes drawn to the hand resting flat on the table. He had big hands, big knuckles, long, surprisingly graceful fingers. It had never occurred to me that a man could have attractive hands. But Rhys’s were. I imagined they must have gotten pretty bruised up when he was fighting professionally, and that made me frown.

Thinking about him getting back in the ring was alarming. I was glad he no longer fought. The idea of him taking a hit made my stomach lurch.

Uh-oh.

I shouldn’t care if he fought or not.

But I did.

Oh hell.

“You and my brother seem to be getting along.” Dean’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I jerked out of my Rhys daze and turned to his younger brother. “Huh?”

Dean grinned mischievously. “What were you staring at?”

“Nothing.” I blushed furiously and sought to distract him. “You’re working with Rhys at the gym now, right?”

“Yeah. Place is kind of a mess, but Rhys is determined to fix it.”

Something about Dean’s derisive tone annoyed me. “His dedication to the gym is admirable.”

“I know that.” Dean dipped his head toward mine. “But my brother is trying to save it because of what it meant to our dad. It shouldn’t be his burden. He would be better off walking away.”

The idea that Rhys was stuck at the gym out of loyalty to his father’s wishes was more troubling than I’d like. My fake boyfriend’s happiness shouldn’t mean anything to me. “Surely he enjoys running the gym?”

“He likes training young boxers. And he runs junior classes that help keep kids out of trouble.”

“It sounds like a worthy job to me.” I scowled at him. “Why would he be better off walking away from that?”

“Financially, he would.”

“Money isn’t everything.”

“Says the woman who has money.”

“Fair enough.” I sighed. “But there are more important things. Like

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