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“That was a great stop. I see you found something too.” He winks.
“Yep. Can we go now? I’m done shopping.”
West just chuckles.
A second later, Mitch and Colby join us. I don’t look to see how many bags they’re holding. That’s information I do not need to know.
“Well guys,” Mitch starts, his voice laced with amusement. “Our captain has everything he needs now, and he’s ready to go.”
“Ready to go back to our hotel…or back home to Amber?” Colby teases.
Mitch smirks and I narrow my eyes at him. He’s going rogue today, apparently.
Giving up on my teammates being mature, I stride ahead of them, relishing the silence. The truth is, I’d give anything to leave California right now and head back to Amber. To hug her, to sleep beside her.
And yeah, to see her in that little nightgown. Which I likely never will.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
AMBER: SOPHOMORE YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL
First day of sophomore year, and I’m saving a seat in math class for Ford. He struggles with math, a lot. But I’m here to help him. I prefer art and English, but math isn’t horrible. Someone stops right in front of my desk, and I grin as I look up, thinking it’s Ford. My smile drops when I see Justin, the school bully, sneering down at me instead.
“Waiting for your loser boyfriend?”
I glare back at him, not standing down. “Ford’s not my boyfriend. He’s my friend.”
Justin holds his hands in the air, and his two minions flanking him snicker. “He’s not your boyfriend, but he sure wants to be. In his dreams,” Justin’s voice is mocking and annoying.
His two buddies high-five him. “That pip-squeak will never have a girlfriend. He’ll just wind up married to that stupid coin he carries.” Justin bursts into laughter at his own comment and his buddies join him.
Justin takes one step toward me, crowding so close to my desk, I have to look straight up to meet his gaze. His eyes are brown like Ford’s, but they’re a cold, muddy brown. They’re not warm and bright the way Ford’s are. “You know, I could take you out, Amber. Show you what it’s like to hang out with a real man.”
Ew. Gross. I don’t want Justin to show me anything. “No thanks. Not interested.”
He leans down, placing both of his hands on my desk, his mousy brown hair flopping into his eyes with the movement. “I know you’re just trying to save his feelings. You want me. I can see it all over your face.”
He’s probably talking about how red my face is. But it’s red with anger, not with a blush. Why is it the very worst teenage boys who have all the confidence?
“The lady said she’s not interested,” a deep, deadly voice echoes around the room. Justin eases away from my desk, and he and his friends turn to look behind them.
Ford stands there, towering over all of them. Yeah, I’m guessing Justin hasn’t seen Ford since he finally hit his growth spurt—and voice change—this summer.
Justin blinks a few times, unable to speak as he looks up at the man he referred to as a pipsqueak.
I bite my bottom lip to keep from smiling.
“Ford?” Justin asks in disbelief.
“Justin,” Ford responds, crossing his arms.
Justin’s minions have disappeared, and Justin is still staring at my best friend. Ford hasn’t threatened him or thrown punches. All he had to do was be his usual strong, steady self. My chest fills with pride at how awesome he is.
“I think you should find your seat, Justin. Class is about to start.” Ford blinks slowly before sliding into the seat I was saving for him, his long legs barely fitting beneath the desk.
Wordlessly, Justin turns and heads to the back of the class to take his seat.
