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This conversation would probably be smoother and end faster if I could keep my face neutral. But I can’t. For the first time since last night, I grin wide.
“Told you.” I nudge him with my elbow. “Wait, first there was my birthday. When was the second one?”
“Last night.” He pauses to take a sip of his juice and makes a face. It either tastes like piss or he wishes it were a beer, like I wish I were drinking instead. “The party was at my friend’s place.”
“Hey, Brett!” Nate raises his hand, and to my surprise, my roommate high fives him. “Pretty wild last night, huh? Did you get that girl’s phone number?”
“No,” my roommate grouches.
My head’s spinning with all this new information. Then again, theirs might spin right off their necks if they learn who I was with last night.
Stifling a sigh, I take out my cell phone and find her contact. I miss her. I want to pick up where we left off. We’d been playing a shooting arcade game, and Tinker Bell couldn’t get her aim right. So like she did with me for the axe throwing, I tried to give her some instructions. The kind that made her break out into goose bumps and that let me sneak in a few rogue kisses down her neck.
Me
At O’Malley’s. Wanna come so we can escape together in secret?
She doesn’t respond right away, but I can feel someone trying to snoop. Except that as I tuck my phone back into my pocket and glance up, I don’t find Nate watching like I expected. Rather, it’s the girl who thought it was okay to take liberties earlier.
“Hey there.” She probably thinks she looks hot licking her lips like that. They’re red like a fire engine, and some of the tint sticks to her front teeth.
“Have you met my friend Brett?” I ask, pulling at my roommate’s shoulder.
The poor guy blinks like an owl. “Uh…”
But the huntress doesn’t even give Brett a glance. She pushes Nate out of the way and slides up against me. As in, she wedges my arm right between her boobs. Resting her chin on my arm, she looks up with bedroom eyes and says, “No, sorry. All I can see is you.”
And all I can see is the exit. Which is, of course, where I find Tinker Bell surrounded by Strikes, walking into the pub. And their captain’s eyes are trained on me.
CHAPTER 28
LUZ
Our last game before the holiday break is tomorrow, and instead of nursing their nasty hangovers in bed, all my teammates want to do is hit O’Malley’s.
I check my phone on the way. The school’s website is open on my browser. I take a quick look at the results from the Bolts’ game and scream on the inside. They won, thanks to a hat trick from my boyfriend. I wish I could’ve seen that from the stands. I would’ve screamed his name so loud it probably would’ve gotten me kicked out of the arena.
But I can’t do that. The Strikes would pile on me if they knew I’m dating the leader of the enemy. Even though they collectively agree that Max Cassiano is the nicest one of the bunch. And they also think he’s the hottest. Because he is.
His text message pings right then, as if he can read my mind. Like he knows I’m thirsting for him from wherever he is. Before I can read it, though, Chelsea snatches my phone from my hand.
“S’more? Who’s that?”
“Give it back if you want to keep your nose intact.” Maybe she sees the threat is serious, because she places the device on my open palm.
Not without giving me a chill-inducing smirk. “Are you dating someone, Captain?”
“Me?” I laugh like it’s the silliest prospect. Even though I very much am dating, and not just someone, but the sweetest, sexiest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on. And hands. Although I want to lay them for longer. “Uh, where do you get that idea from?”
“Who are you trying to escape with, Rodriguez?”
“Oh?” JT picks up on that thread. “Are you off to some secret tryst?”
That was the plan. Obviously, now that’s impossible.
Huffing, I walk into the pub. There are more bodies here than in front of a goalie during play. But even then, I sweep my eyes across the place just once and find him right away. Max. My delicious, secret little S’more. With some unknown girl hanging off him.
I’m glad no one can see how I ball my fists, since they’re stuck in the pockets of my winter coat. My feet are rooted to the spot, blocking the way for the rest of the Strikes.
